[ Among everything, Viktor had barely noticed the cloaked figure. But when it turns, his own older, lined face is staring out from the shadows of the hood at him--
And all Viktor can feel is horror.
It should be fascinating. But he's being looked in the eye by another version of himself and told that the only place his path leads is utter ruination. That other self-- it's obvious that he destroyed this world, that he transmuted Jayce and potentially millions of other souls into featureless empty shells. And now all he can do is pass this message on. To try to stop his other selves in other timelines from doing the exact same thing.
All Viktor had ever wanted was to help. And his destiny is this.
He breaks away from Jayce with what feels like a scream building in his chest, unable to bear looking at him. The memory shatters around them, leaving them in a dark expanse, and then Viktor yanks from them even that-- abruptly, they are back in the bathtub, and his expression is contorted with more emotion than he's ever worn in this body, the cracks in his body glowing bright with agitated magic. There is a lessening, somewhere, the hexcore's claws being worked out of his mind one by one, emotion returning in great, overwhelming waves. All it took was a shattering of his determination, one chink in the armor.
Viktor claws his way out of the tub, and staggers to the doorway of the dwelling. The commune outside is howling, his internal torment infecting the shared consciousness. ]
How can you say that-- [ He grits out, forcing it through his teeth. ] --after what you just saw? That world, those people-- I did that, and you can still love me?
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And all Viktor can feel is horror.
It should be fascinating. But he's being looked in the eye by another version of himself and told that the only place his path leads is utter ruination. That other self-- it's obvious that he destroyed this world, that he transmuted Jayce and potentially millions of other souls into featureless empty shells. And now all he can do is pass this message on. To try to stop his other selves in other timelines from doing the exact same thing.
All Viktor had ever wanted was to help. And his destiny is this.
He breaks away from Jayce with what feels like a scream building in his chest, unable to bear looking at him. The memory shatters around them, leaving them in a dark expanse, and then Viktor yanks from them even that-- abruptly, they are back in the bathtub, and his expression is contorted with more emotion than he's ever worn in this body, the cracks in his body glowing bright with agitated magic. There is a lessening, somewhere, the hexcore's claws being worked out of his mind one by one, emotion returning in great, overwhelming waves. All it took was a shattering of his determination, one chink in the armor.
Viktor claws his way out of the tub, and staggers to the doorway of the dwelling. The commune outside is howling, his internal torment infecting the shared consciousness. ]
How can you say that-- [ He grits out, forcing it through his teeth. ] --after what you just saw? That world, those people-- I did that, and you can still love me?