"Well ain't that a bitch."
Rotating with violent swirls of energy, the Hexcore hovered. It pulsed with power, radiating and controlling the Arcane like a miniature Dyson sphere, simultaneously pulling and pushing magical energies. The problem, however, was that it was laced with something else—something wrong.
Void energy.
Orion could feel it. Had felt it for years in Stillwater, resonating with the trapped void inside him. This sickly, distorted magic called to him like a siren, and the amulet Janna had given him trembled faintly in response.
"I don't think I can get closer," Orion grimaced.
"Why not?" Viktor asked, his brow raising as he stepped forward. There was a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. Jayce crossed his arms, watching skeptically.
"It's been corrupted," Orion said. "Void energies have mixed with the Arcane. I can feel it. It's toxic to me and volatile in ways even you might not comprehend."
"Void energy? Like from those ancient myths?" Jayce asked, clearly unconvinced. "You expect us to just take your word for it?"
Orion's gaze hardened. "I stand by my decision to destroy it."
Viktor, clutching a stack of rune-covered papers, walked toward him. "Then at least study these. If you can't get closer, perhaps you can decipher what's happening from a distance?"
"I don't need to." Orion nodded toward the Hexcore. "You've already used this to mimic life, haven't you? And it died- withered. Didn't it?"
Viktor's frown deepened. "Yes."
"That's the Arcane giving and the Void taking. If it were pure Arcane, you'd see things like in Ionia- growth, harmony. What you've created here is… a devourer."
Powder stepped closer, finally speaking. "So you're saying this thing eats magic?"
"Eats everything," Orion murmured. "If you leave it unchecked, it'll consume your lab, the city, everything."
Jayce leaned in. "Is there a way to separate them? The Void and the Arcane?"
"There is," Orion said. "You can either destroy the Hexcore completely… or use celestial magic to cleanse it. I've been trying to convince Janna to help, but she can't do it alone."
"What does she need?" Viktor asked quietly.
"What else?" Orion exhaled. "Believers."
Jayce scoffed. "It'd be easier to convince the Noxians to become pacifists."
"You're telling me," Orion said, shaking his head. "But think about it. You both claim to wield the future. That Hexcore was your future, Viktor. And it's failing. If you want to fix it, then maybe you don't need to just understand it. Maybe you need to revere what can fix it and give it power."
Viktor looked to the Hexcore again, more contemplative now. "What if divinity... was part of the equation? If machines were conduits, not just tools?"
Jayce said nothing, but his frown was thoughtful.
Powder blinked between them. "You're all starting to sound like cultists."
"No," Viktor replied softly. "Like engineers of something higher."
Powder rolled her eyes. "Next thing you know, you'll both be dressing in robes and chanting to the sky."
Viktor's eyes stayed fixed on the Hexcore. "We already treat science like religion. Equations are scripture. The lab is our altar."
"That wasn't metaphor," Powder muttered, nudging Orion. "They're actually starting to believe it."
"It's not belief," Viktor said, voice distant, as if he were only half-hearing her. "It's recognition. Magic was always part of this. We used runes as pathways. Arcane flows through them like blood in veins. But we never asked why. Or who might be listening on the other end."
Orion crossed his arms. "It's not about listening. It's about presence. Magic has will. And when you try to contain it in something as rigid as steel... it resists."
Jayce scoffed, arms folded. "And now we're giving magic a conscience?"
"No," Viktor said. "We're admitting it has laws. Just like science. Just like machinery. Laws we didn't write."
Jayce was silent, his fingers tapping against the scroll he still held. His voice came quieter. "Then that means we've been violating those laws every time we turn a wrench."
Orion didn't reply.
Powder leaned back on a railing, her expression unreadable. "So what? You gonna make a church of gears now? Start blessing your hammers and praying to old wind goddesses?"
Viktor actually smiled faintly. "If that wind goddess purifies corruption more effectively than any prototype we've made? Maybe."
Jayce turned slowly toward Orion. "If you could help guide it- help us shape it so it doesn't destroy everything- would you?"
Orion gave a tired shrug. "I'm not your priest, Jayce. But if you're building something that breathes and feels, then yeah. I'll keep it from tearing out your throat."
Jayce exchanged a look with Viktor.
"This isn't what we signed up for," Jayce muttered.
"No," Viktor agreed. "It's something more."
And from behind them, the Hexcore pulsed once- dimly, almost like a heartbeat- as if listening.
The Hexcore's pulse faded into silence but the sensation lingered, like the air itself had changed.
"I don't like it when it does that," Powder muttered, eyes narrowing. "It's like it's… watching."
Viktor's fingers twitched at his side. "It responds. That shouldn't be possible unless it's drawing from something reactive."
Jayce let out a slow breath, his knuckles white around the handle of his hammer. "And we thought we were just engineering miracles."
"No," Viktor murmured. "We were trespassing."
Powder glanced between them. "So now what? You gonna shut it down?"
Jayce and Viktor exchanged another glance. This time, there was no hesitation.
"We cleanse it," Viktor said. "Not just the core- but our designs. Our assumptions. No more unchecked prototypes."
"We work with the flow," Jayce added, quieter this time. "Not against it. Not… above it."
Orion studied them both, a trace of guarded approval in his gaze.
"If you're serious," he said, "then this isn't just engineering anymore. It's devotion. You'll be walking a line that'll get you mocked. Or worse."
"Better that than burying a city under our ambition," Viktor said.
A pause. Then Orion nodded once. "Then we start with truth. I'll tell you what I know. About Janna. The balance she used to keep... and what was lost when Piltover forgot her."
Powder clicked her tongue. "I swear, if either of you starts levitating and talking in tongues-"
Jayce cracked the faintest grin. "Then you'll know it's working."
The moment passed in tense silence, the Hexcore gently humming behind them, its glow dimmer now, less oppressive. The air felt clearer. Not clean, not safe. But changed.
And in that change, something new had begun.
Something between faith and function.