Yes, he's heard all of this. Spoken to people who were apparently sent back and returned, with no memory of this place as they moved along their proper timeline, in their own world. He has no idea how this could work for them, even though they're only separated by a matter of days. Would Viktor have a chance to get things right, with the Hexcore? Would his own future be different from the one Jayce experienced? There's no real way to tell. All he can really do is the best he can, here, with what he has.
Viktor wants to tell himself that it wouldn't matter if they were sent back home, with none of what they've learned. At least home is a known quantity. There's investment. There's a working Hexcore that Viktor still believes in, not having yet made the horrible mistake that Jayce is convinced he makes. Returning isn't necessarily a death sentence, and at least they wouldn't be fighting someone else's war.
"The Summoning ritual. That could be part of it."
Of course, he doesn't really know that. But he and Jayce found each other once, so they could do it again. He knows, now, how long the feelings have been there--isn't getting back to where they are now just a matter of probability? Naïve, perhaps. Viktor is well aware that it's the very specific circumstances of this place that brought them together. Back in Piltover, with Jayce as a Councilor and Viktor immersed in his work, it seems unlikely. He's reminded, again, of everything he hoped to do, and how allowing himself the indulgence of a relationship would only hinder his goals.
Would he do that? Would he erase all of this, with Jayce, if it meant doing what he's supposed to be doing--helping the Undercity? The fact that he can't answer this for himself, not definitively, unsettles something in him. Makes him feel selfish all over again. If returning home is a possibility, then maybe it would be for the best, to forget.
Viktor drags his good leg up onto the mattress and leans forward on it, resting his chin on his knee in apparent thought. A suitable reply doesn't come.
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Viktor wants to tell himself that it wouldn't matter if they were sent back home, with none of what they've learned. At least home is a known quantity. There's investment. There's a working Hexcore that Viktor still believes in, not having yet made the horrible mistake that Jayce is convinced he makes. Returning isn't necessarily a death sentence, and at least they wouldn't be fighting someone else's war.
"The Summoning ritual. That could be part of it."
Of course, he doesn't really know that. But he and Jayce found each other once, so they could do it again. He knows, now, how long the feelings have been there--isn't getting back to where they are now just a matter of probability? Naïve, perhaps. Viktor is well aware that it's the very specific circumstances of this place that brought them together. Back in Piltover, with Jayce as a Councilor and Viktor immersed in his work, it seems unlikely. He's reminded, again, of everything he hoped to do, and how allowing himself the indulgence of a relationship would only hinder his goals.
Would he do that? Would he erase all of this, with Jayce, if it meant doing what he's supposed to be doing--helping the Undercity? The fact that he can't answer this for himself, not definitively, unsettles something in him. Makes him feel selfish all over again. If returning home is a possibility, then maybe it would be for the best, to forget.
Viktor drags his good leg up onto the mattress and leans forward on it, resting his chin on his knee in apparent thought. A suitable reply doesn't come.