Work Text
A single candle illuminated the lab, casting an orange glow across the room that decayed into inky blackness. Shadows crawled from one wall to another, plunging the far corners of the lab into complete darkness. It must have been well after midnight, as the last bar in Piltover’s bustling University District had shuttered its doors for the night. For Jayce and Viktor, however, the work was just beginning. The blueprints for the Hexgates had been finalized earlier that week, which called for several days of celebration–and alcohol. Now that they’d sobered up, the Council had asked the Talises to determine a location for the Gates. Jayce spearheaded this endeavor, hailing from a family who worked closely with architects and city planners. With his knowledge of engineering and design, Jayce figured this decision would be easy. Of course, Hextech projects always turned out to be more complex than they first let on.
—
“And you suppose these could help… boost the Gates’ potential?” Viktor inquired.
“We already know the crystals create an impressive magical charge when in close contact with each other. I’m predicting we can amplify that charge if we could somehow tap into the ley lines. The Gates are the biggest Hextech project we’ve ever attempted– imagine how much stronger they could be if they drew from the lifeblood of the Arcane itself!”
Jayce feverishly pored over the books and parchments in front of him, gears turning in his mind. Viktor sat hunched over on his lab stool, elbow resting on his cane, listening earnestly to Jayce's mad ramblings as the night crept on.
Over the course of his life, Jayce had amassed hundreds of books, covering everything even tangentially related to the Arcane. In recent months, however, his collection of magical memorabilia had grown so large that it began to encroach on their shared living space at the Academy. Tomes were
everywhere,
peppering shelves, floors, and everything in between. Viktor specifically recalled that Jayce had lovingly left a copy of “Cloaks and Crystals: A Survey of Ionian Mage Attire” atop the toilet. Parchments and artifacts seemed to wedge themselves into every corner of the flat, and Viktor had become accustomed to the pain of a loose Hex Crystal jamming into his foot.
All this clutter completely shattered the illusion that the people who lived here were anywhere near sane– a facade that Viktor had so carefully constructed for himself in the years prior to meeting Jayce. For all his clean-freak tendencies, though, Viktor didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he quite enjoyed seeing Jayce light up at the mention of any of his passions. How Jayce’s hands flailed wildly whenever he explained a new concept, as if casting a spell. Magic was Jayce’s first love, Viktor thought to himself. Who was he to stand in the way of that?
The newest addition to Jayce’s collection lay splayed open on the lab desk: an atlas depicting all of Runeterra’s ley lines– hotspots of magical energy that ran like rivers deep beneath the earth. Over the past few weeks, Jayce had been up all day and night developing a new theory– that Hextech could leech off this energy, given a low enough depth. Viktor almost wished that Jayce had come across that atlas
after
they’d started construction on the Gates. Almost wished that every conversation didn’t lead directly back to the ley lines.
Almost.
It was worth it to see Jayce so excited, so alive, so dedicated. A brilliant scientist right in his element. Viktor’s eyes flickered in the candlelight, watching with endearment as Jayce shuffled through the clutter before him.
Jayce cross-referenced the atlas with a modern-day map of Piltover. The tome was so old that the land that would eventually become the “City of Progress” lay undeveloped, save for a small portside town.
“Oshra Va’Zaun,” Jayce squinted, stumbling over the word. “Any idea what that means?”
“Your pronunciation is terrible,” Viktor chuckled. “But yes, that would be the ancient name for the Undercity. Nobody really uses it anymore.”
“Wow. I never knew.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from Piltover's most ‘Distinguished Innovator’.” Viktor raised his eyebrows lightheartedly, hoping Jayce caught the sarcasm. “In all seriousness though, the Academy is… lacking… in its Undercity history department. Doesn’t help that much of the old script is still indecipherable.”
“That’s terrible, you deserve to know about your people,” Jayce acknowledged.
“Eh, it’s to be expected.” Viktor shrugged. “I have heard though, through the grapevine, that some fringe groups are attempting to bring back the name in a modernized form. Zaun.”
“What do you think of that?”
“I’m certainly not opposed. It’s been so long since I’ve visited, but it’s a nice gesture. Giving the Undercity a name again… Anyway, you should get back to your work. The Council’s been at our throats all week for daring to celebrate our inventions our way. Don’t want to disappoint, no?”
“Right,” Jayce smirked. With a ruler, he drafted a ley line onto the map in blue, taking care to ensure the geographic features were aligned. Check twice, mark once. Check twice, mark once. Rinse and repeat. With each addition, Jayce turned to plot the exact same line onto a below-ground geological survey of Piltover, a map detailing all of the Undercity’s chasms and caverns. The Hexgates needed to extend deep into the earth to build up the charge necessary to accelerate whole airships, so an existing cave was ideal for excavation.
As he watched Jayce at work, Viktor couldn’t help but notice how dextrous the man’s hands were. Despite his strength, Jayce treated the papers with the utmost care, fingers brushing ever so cautiously over the priceless documents. Maintaining a firm, but flexible grip on the metal ruler. Each digit artfully flexed in a way that drove Viktor crazy. His grip tightened around the shaft of his cane, mind flooded with evil, evil thoughts.
Soon, a twisted matrix of blue covered the entire Piltover isthmus. Jayce stood up and scanned the desk, tracing the endless web with his eyes. Fist pressed to his face, he weighed the options. Dozens of factors went into determining the best location: proximity to the sea, noise concerns, ley lines, the list continued ad nauseam. It was a miracle that Jayce didn’t pass out when first given the task. Like always, he dove into the project headfirst, along with Viktor, who helped perform much of the calculations regarding the Gates’ weight and structural integrity under stress.
“Here!” Jayce pointed to a spot on the map near the river.
“
This
is the optimal location for the Gates. It’s close to the port, but still a ways away from any historic buildings. Good elevation, too. And… look at
this
.”
He ran his finger excitedly over a line that he’d drawn on the map, a waxy cerulean mark splitting the city in two.
“Directly over one of the strongest ley lines coursing through Piltover! I’d need to conduct another survey on the ambient magical energy in the area, of course- but! If my theory’s correct,
this
could give us the potential to boost the output of the Gates by several orders of magnitude!” He turned his focus to the below-ground survey, lifting the parchment off the table to better face the light.
“There’s a sizable cavern underneath, but it appears to be a satellite fissure, not near any major population center. That ensures that we’d spend a lot less time excavating; much easier on the miners. We’ve already calculated the approximate energy output of the Gate, but imagine the potential if we utilized the ley lines! If we could capture and store some of that excess, we could provide a…”
Jayce’s voice drowned out amidst the racing thoughts in Viktor’s mind. His eyes darted from the map, to the atlas, to the survey, back and forth, back and forth. He wasn’t so sure. All night he had been staring at that survey, searching for why that cave felt so familiar, when it suddenly hit him all at once. He had been there before.
As a child, Viktor had visited that stretch of the fissures with his mother in search of medicine; a huge shantytown deep within the Sump. An isolated community, far-flung from the urban jungle of the greater Undercity, populated by a strange and squalid people. In the belly of the cavern, he recalled the sheer density of the encampment’s dwellings. Pitched canvas, loose wooden boards, and scrap metal all melted into each other. They morphed, almost biologically, into one unified structure. A structure so expansive, its borders stretched into the deepest recesses of the cave, swallowed up by the Gray. As odd and reclusive as they were, the people of the Sump provided Viktor and his mother what they were looking for. Despite their destitution, they offered him a sliver of kindness when he was most in need. A people that, even through hardship, still produced art and stories, still loved and bonded over their shared circumstance. They couldn’t just dig that up, even if the Hexgates would help Piltover prosper beyond its wildest dreams. Viktor sat up. He had to say something.
Jayce was still raving, prattling on and on about some kind of renewable energy, completely oblivious to Viktor’s dissociation.
Viktor stirred. He knew it was now or never.
“–possibilities with some kind of infinite energy source. I think, with enough research, we could refine the Hex Crystals to the point wh–”
“Jayce, I think we would be better off with a different location,” he interrupted.
“Oh?” Jayce looked puzzled. “How come?”
“There’s a known Undercity encampment right in that spot. A pretty big one.”
“Oh. That… complicates things. Okay.” Jayce pondered, racking his brain for a solution. He pressed a hand to his temple, elbow planted on the desk.
“Maybe… Maybe we could set aside some of the money from the Hexgate grant. We can provide them with housing for a few months– help them get back on their feet.”
“A admirable prospect, Jayce, but no.” Viktor straightened his posture. “We’re practically begging the Council to fund the Hexgates as it is. As much as it pains me to say, they would never approve of their money being used for something like that. Heimerdinger maybe, but the rest would probably deem it a ‘frivolous passion project’. Besides, these people have a unique way of life. I’ve seen it. Even if we were to undertake this, no place– topside or bottom– is going to have enough vacancy for everyone. We’d be splitting up communities. Families.”
“I still think if we explained my theory, they’d understand why we need-”
“Be reasonable, they’re politicians. They don’t
care
about your theory unless it deepens their pockets. But you’re not just looking to prove your theory. Something tells me there’s another reason why you want that spot.”
Jayce sighed.
“The size and shape of the cavern
is
ideal for the base of the Gates,” he admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The Hexgate budget is impressive, but I’d rather not spend it all on excavation. There really isn’t a better option, and I think… if it came down to it… we would have to…”
“No, absolutely not, we are not
forcing
people out of their homes-”
“It’s not like I don’t care, okay! I do, Viktor, of
course
I do, it’s just… this isn’t a good use of our time right now. We shouldn’t let this minor setback-”
“
Minor setback
? We are playing with people’s lives here, Jayce! Even if we were somehow able to move the community as a unit, they’d still be starting from square one. And, in case you forgot, the Undercity is much older than Piltover. Whatever’s down there could very well be ancient history. Don’t you care about that? Isn’t that reason enough for you?”
“Fuck, Viktor,
obviously
the people themselves are reason enough…” Jayce fidgeted with the tattered edges of the survey parchment. “I still think– Wouldn’t they be better off with actual places to live? Actual
homes
and
jobs
to go back to? Why wouldn’t it help to provide them with that? Tell me how that’s not better than what they’re living in right now?”
“Listen, I get your reasoning. I get it, you want to help.”
“Don’t patronize me, Viktor.”
“I'm just
saying
it’s a lot more complicated than you–”
“What would you have me do then, huh?” Jayce pleaded. “This might be our only option. The Hexgates
need
a boost from the ley lines, they
need
as much magical backup as possible! I’m choosing a path of least resistance here! What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know, Jayce!” Viktor threw up his hands. “I don’t know. But your naivety betrays you. Why can’t you understand that there are going to be problems out there that you can’t just… throw money at!”
Viktor collapsed into his lab stool, exhausted.
“I’m telling you, Jayce. Move it somewhere else.
Please
. What we’re doing here is
wrong
.”
“I… I can’t- I can’t…there’s no other way…”
Jayce’s breathing quickened. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, vision narrowing. He clenched his fist around the underground survey, crumpling the one-of-a-kind document he had specifically ordered for this project.
The Hexgates
needed
that backup.
He
needed that backup. The thought of doing harm in the name of science, in the name of progress, ate away at him. But he had no choice. His stomach churned, anxiety manifesting as an inky pit deep inside him. God, why did this have to be so
complicated,
he thought.
I lose no matter where I put it. Every time. Every time, I always lose.
Jayce knew he wasn’t built for the world of politics. The backlash from their controversial win at the Distinguished Innovator’s competition a couple years ago had already landed them in hot water. The constant stares and snide remarks about “cheating using magic” had nearly pushed Jayce to his limit back then. God, he couldn’t even imagine how disastrous it would be if the Hexgates failed. He could already see the headlines. “RUNETERRA’S LARGEST PUBLIC WORKS PROJECT TOTAL BUST– BILLIONS WASTED ON INVENTOR JAYCE TALIS’ ‘HEXGATES’.” Jayce Talis, international laughing stock, the history books would say. Jayce Talis, who plunged a national economy into complete bankruptcy. Jayce Talis, who wasted his whole life pursuing a dangerous and impossible dream, with the foolish notion that he could change the world.
Hextech was supposed to be his way out. A new path, diverging from the one that everyone expected him to follow. As much as he hated dancing with the Council over whether his inventions even deserved to exist, he couldn’t imagine going back to what life had planned for him. He couldn't resign himself to the decades of back-breaking labor that “a Talis is supposed to do”, only for a factory accident to cut his life short, just like it had done to his father. He couldn’t become “just another Talis”. All this work, all this money, all these years. It
can’t
have been for nothing. Hextech was his
everything.
His
reason
for living. The
reason
why Viktor was able to talk him off the ledge that fateful night. After the trial, even Jayce’s mother told him to stop chasing magic. Viktor was the
only
person to believe in his dream. And yet, here he stood. The last obstacle between Jayce and unimaginable success. The Gates
had
to work. They
had
to. He
needed
them to. Jayce struggled to breathe, throat closing up as the world spun around him.
They had to work.
He threaded his fingers through his hair, grasping at the roots. Head hung over the desk, Jayce’s eyes lost themselves in the vibrating lines of the maps beneath him.
Oshra Va’Zaun, Oshra Va’Zaun, Oshra Va’Zaun,
he repeated in his head.
FUCK.
Suddenly, everything came to a stop. In the midst of his spiral, Jayce had an epiphany. He raised his head, fingers untangling themselves from his scalp. Viktor didn’t
actually
care about the Undercity, he thought. If he did, surely he would have visited by now. Wouldn’t Viktor have gone back at some point, or taken Jayce to see his family? Why was he only bringing this up now? To get a leg up on him? Some kind of moral superiority?
It didn’t matter. Jayce was done with arguing. Viktor wanted to be difficult? Fine. But Jayce was going to get the Gates built, one way or another. He inhaled sharply, lips drawn into a taut line. No more pleading like a dog.
“You know, Viktor,” he scoffed, almost in a sing-song tone. “You pretend like you care about the Undercity, but what have
you
done?”
Viktor’s eyes widened, taken aback by Jayce’s sudden shift.
“Excuse me?”
“You love to pretend like you’re better than me when it comes to this. So high and mighty. But what have
you
done for them? May I remind you, oh exalted one, that you haven’t been back
once
since you left for the Academy. What’s up with that, huh? Oh, but the Undercity, the Undercity! Give me a fucking break.”
“Jayce, I… This is
uncalled
for. I am your partner, you do
not
speak to me this way–”
“I know what it is,” he snapped. “You’re scared. Scared to go back. You know the Undercity’s gotten so much worse since you left, and that’s why you haven’t been back. We’ve all seen the articles about Shimmer. What it does to you. How it rots a person from the inside out. Turns them into a monster. Face it, the Undercity is
festering
. And all this time, you’ve been living it up in Piltover and never
once
thought about them, so don’t start now. I’m offering a solution, but you wanna leave them down there? You think that’ll help them out? Sure! Go ahead. But just
try
and go back to that cave. You and I both know that you wouldn’t stand a
chance
down there.”
“Jayce…”
Candlelight flickered across Jayce’s contorted expression. The fire in his eyes moved like a rolling boil, glaring at Viktor like a target, an animal in his sights. Viktor had never seen him like this before. Frustrated, desperate, sure– but never anything like this. Flared nostrils, furrowed brows. Seething, hateful eyes. Though he’d never seen it in Jayce before, Viktor immediately recognized the expression. This was the face of a man who had everything to lose– but nowhere to go. An animal backed into a corner, using its claws, teeth, or whatever else it had, to get even an inch of leeway. Viktor’s fist tightened around his cane, then released. His gaze lowered in contemplation. He wanted to say something,
anything
, to scream, cry,
hurt
Jayce, but he froze. Words failed him, lip trembling. Viktor couldn’t bear to look Jayce in the eyes, still staring daggers at him, awaiting his response.
Jayce didn’t know this, of course, but Viktor had always,
always,
thought about going back. Never a day went by where he wasn’t reminiscing about the smoky streets of the Undercity; those green-lit bridges and winding alleyways, where life always felt like an adventure. Where he felt intertwined with something so much bigger than himself. Every night, he would dream about the moment he finally crossed the bridge again. Finally
home
.
He could never bring himself to do it. There was never a good time, and time became a precious resource once he started attending the Academy. Studying, working, living within its confines. His partnership with Jayce in recent years only served to exacerbate the problem, carving Piltover’s emblem deeper and deeper into his flesh. Even now, his attire matched that of the perfect Piltie. He loved Jayce, of course, but nothing would ever erase the fact that he would always be an outsider to him. Viktor would always be the “other”, no matter how much he tried to cover it up with gold, crimson and white. Even his crutch, something so intrinsically part of him, bore the colors of a Talis.
As he spent more and more time topside, however, he came to a realization. At least Piltover had the grace (if one could call it that) to feign empathy for those less fortunate, less able. The “City of Progress” buried its deepest failures under a sickeningly sweet coating of idealism. Always promising a better tomorrow for everyone, but conveniently, tomorrow never came. The Undercity, on the other hand, for all its beauty, made no secret of the fact that those who couldn’t cut it in the Lanes were as good as dead. Even if he were to go back, where would he go? Who would take him?
Viktor was caught between two claws, both pulling at his extremities. Each twisted hand trying to force him over to their side of the bridge. Tugging with such vigor, to the point of tearing him open. Still, it wouldn’t matter if either got their way. He would never fit in quite right. No matter which side of the river he ended up on, his wound from all that pulling would eventually open up and spill out onto the floor, weeping, bleeding, festering for everyone to see.
Though Piltover would never view him as anything more than “trencher trash”, in the Undercity's eyes, he really had become more topside than bottom. More Piltover than “Zaun”. The fact that he only learned of that movement recently, through the Piltover Times of all places, made his stomach sink. His own people, redefining themselves without his involvement, forging a family name where before there was none. A nameless, faceless people, literally buried beneath their oppressors. A people meant to be forgotten, rising from the ashes on their own accord. And what did Viktor do? Skipped up topside when things got tough. Happily took the name of the first Piltie who so much as looked at him twice. He didn’t deserve to be called a Zaunite, he thought to himself. He sighed. But that’s all Piltover would ever see. Despite everything, he could never forget where he came from. He wouldn’t let himself forget. Viktor’s thoughts cleared, maybe for the first time in his life. He breathed calmly, finally finding the words.
“You’re right, Jayce,” he admitted. “I am scared.”
Jayce’s expression softened ever so slightly, perplexed. Still, he glared at Viktor, eyes simmering like hot coals.
“I’m scared. Scared that the more money we put into this, the further they’ll be left behind. In the mud. In Piltover’s shit. I admit it, the situation in the Undercity has gotten out of control… and it terrifies me. But that’s exactly why I don't want us to make it
worse.
Your inability to see through the fabrication that the Council has been feeding you is truly disappointing. I thought you were smarter than that. Think about who the Gates are really for, Jayce. For just a second. We’re diverting so many resources to this, and for what? I thought our goal was to help people, what happened to our dream for Hextech?”
“The Gates will help people–” Jayce tried to interject, but Viktor quickly cut him off, rising from his chair.
“What exactly do you think is going to happen when we open the Gates and Piltover becomes the richest nation in Runeterra overnight?” Viktor hissed, voice nearly breaking. “You
seriously
believe, that ‘out of the goodness of their hearts’, they would share that wealth with those they deem untouchables? Addicts?
Subhuman?”
His cane clattered to the floor. Hot, angry tears streamed down Viktor’s face; his throat shredded from yelling. He heaved, looking down at Jayce, expressing the very same vitriol Jayce had doled out moments before. The same glassy eyes. Jayce sat motionless, body twisted to face the desk, grasping its edge with one hand. He breathed shakily through his slightly open mouth, rendered speechless. It was clear, Viktor thought, that Jayce didn’t have anything else to say. Couldn’t
think
of anything else to say. Still, Jayce’s eyes met Viktor’s, leering up at the man through his eyebrows. Two sets of golden eyes, locked into each other's orbit like a binary star system, doomed to collide if they got too close.
After an unbearable silence, Jayce leaned over to pick up the cane, but not before Viktor got to it first. He made a show of getting it on his own, even though the nerves in his leg felt like lava as he bent down unsupported.
“You forget yourself, Jayce,” Viktor spat, tucking his cane under his arm. “I’m going to bed. I don’t care what you have to do,
find somewhere else
to put it. Not like you needed my help for this anyways.”
He stormed silently out of the lab, nudging the doorstop with his foot on his way out. The heavy wooden door slammed shut, leaving Jayce completely alone with his books. The candle wavered at the sudden breeze, dwindling flame almost burned to the base.
Viktor traveled the Academy’s grand hallways with a surprising assuredness, the journey between his room and the lab burned into his muscle memory. He ambled down the impossibly long corridor, cane tapping on the ground with every other step. Pale moonbeams passed through the hallway windows, segmenting the endless carpet into a grid of blue squares. So refined, so orderly, Viktor thought. Every step meant a new square, something clean, isolated, fresh. Not at all like the writhing, twisted nature of real life.
Viktor turned a corner, heading deeper into the Academy, passing Heimerdinger’s lab on the way. He counted one, two, three doors on his right, stopping at the fourth. Their living quarters. Viktor had been living alone for years, but he’d invited Jayce to move in with him shortly after their relationship had begun. Viktor reprimanded himself for extending such a favor. He inserted the key, sighed, and opened the door.
Even in the darkness, the apartment’s clutter was evident. As he made his way inside, he felt the crumple of papers beneath his feet, and kicked away some kind of metallic trinkets in order to carve a clear path to the living room. He traipsed onward, cane almost sliding out from under him thanks to a loose parchment on the floor. Viktor cursed under his breath, shoving boxes out of the entrance hallway, each full to the brim with items from Jayce’s collection. Everything was a mess, as per usual. He turned to head to the bedroom, but stopped himself at the doorway, opting for the sofa instead. Even though a night on the couch would be terrible for his back, the pain of waking up next to Jayce in the morning would be so much worse, he decided.
He laid his Talis-branded cane across the coffee table, yet another one of Jayce’s intrusions into his life. God, why did he do that? Why did he allow Jayce to consume so much of him? Even his house, what used to be his space, wasn’t his anymore. Frankly, there wasn’t
any
space that was just Viktor’s anymore. Everything had changed since they had met, transformed into something meant for the two of them together. Jayce was always following him around, and when he wasn’t, Viktor was always present in the back of Jayce’s mind. Maybe he once thought of that devotion as endearing, but the only memories Viktor could conjure were that of annoyance.
He unbuttoned his shirt, sliding his arms out of the sleeves. He didn’t have the energy to change into his nightwear, so boxers it is, he thought. He slid half a dozen books off the couch and collapsed onto it, using one of Jayce’s fleece blankets as a cover.
Though his body ached with exhaustion, and the nerves in his back screamed under the instability of the couch cushions, Viktor’s mind continued to buzz. He knew he wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon. He shifted to his side, facing outwards into the living room. His eyes grew heavy, burning from how long he'd been awake. Still, they remained fixated on the open doorway opposite the couch. Their shared bedroom. Viktor remembered he had drawn the blackout curtains closed that morning, meaning the room manifested itself only as a door-shaped void. Floaters and specks of color danced in the blackness, a painful reminder that the human eye was not meant to see in such low light conditions.
Viktor sighed, breath growing shaky as the reality of what just happened set in. He didn’t know how they were going to come back from this. Everything they had said to each other that night, how Jayce had looked at Viktor like an animal, the way Jayce would throw out everything they had built together just for his
stupid fucking Hexgates,
all bubbled back to the surface at once. His eyes pricked up with tears, everything washing over him like a wave. More memories flooded in. How kind Jayce had been before, everything he had done for Viktor. After tonight’s argument,
everything
flipped over on its head, as if it was all meaningless now. As if the Jayce he knew had been lost to Progress. He couldn’t take it anymore. Viktor began to quietly sob into his hands. He hunched his shoulders, gasping for air between voiceless cries. He held a corner of Jayce’s blanket up to his face, soaking it with tears and spittle. With every muffled breath, Viktor slowly curled in on himself, wrapping his arms and legs around the blanket, holding it tight to his body. He clenched his fists around the blanket, face still pressed deeply into its soft fabric. In between awkward yelps, he breathed deeply, smelling whatever traces of Jayce he could pick up with his stuffy nose. God, Viktor hoped that Jayce wouldn’t walk in and see him like this. Wouldn't see that Viktor’s feelings could get the better of him. He hoped that he would already be asleep, exhausted from crying by the time Jayce returned.
—
Jayce didn’t come back that night. After a few futile attempts to find an alternative location, he shoved everything off the table in a fit of rage, papers flying. He cursed the mage that had inspired him to go down this crazy journey in the first place. Maybe his life was just a dead end, he thought. Chasing an impossible dream. He ended up sleeping in the lab that night, hunched over his desk, his work scattered around him. The candle eventually burnt itself out, smoke wisping without disturbance into the still air. Alone in the dark.
End