Piltover - Council Room

3 Months Later...

The bathroom was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air ducts above. Inside, Jayce Talis leaned heavily on the porcelain sink, his knuckles white as they gripped the edges. His chest heaved with every labored breath, his face pale and strained. His long hair, unkempt and falling messily around his face, framed the intensity of his expression. A scuffed beard covered his jaw, evidence of sleepless nights and the weight of his thoughts.

Eyes clenched shut, he tried in vain to steady himself, but the echoes of the earlier conversation rang in his mind like the toll of a distant bell. The words, the pressure, the fear of what was coming—he couldn't escape them.

"Hextech isn't a miracle, it's a curse. We have to end it, Viktor. We have to."

His own voice haunted him, the conviction in his tone now dripping with regret and doubt. He shook his head as if to dispel the memory, but Viktor's retort came swiftly, like a dagger finding its mark.

"You've seen different. Something happened. Now I see it, you too have touched the Arcane."

Jayce's breath hitched. The memory was too vivid, too real. He opened his eyes and glanced down at the sink, his reflection just barely visible in the polished chrome of the faucet. His chest felt like it was being crushed under the weight of it all.

Suddenly, a knock at the door jolted him upright.

"Jayce," a voice called from the other side, muffled but firm. "Is everything okay in there? The meeting is about to start soon."

Jayce gasped softly, scrambling to compose himself. "I—I'm fine," he stammered, his voice unsteady. "Just... give me a minute!"

The sink's handle squeaked as he turned the water on, splashing his face with the cold liquid. He let it run for a moment, the sound grounding him as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. The man who stared back looked anything but fine—haunted eyes, a trembling jaw, a faint sheen of sweat glistening under the bathroom's harsh lighting.

Grabbing a nearby towel, Jayce wiped his face, exhaling slowly. His hands steadied just enough to turn off the water. Another deep breath. He smoothed his hair back and adjusted his suit jacket before heading toward the door. The ceremony couldn't wait, even if he wanted it to.

As he stepped out, standing a few paces away with her arms casually crossed, was Mel Medarda. Her golden eyes held a glimmer of concern, the confident air she always exuded softened by something more genuine.

She stepped closer, her voice low and steady. "Are you okay?"

Jayce gave a half-hearted nod, his lips forming a faint, forced smile. "I'm fine," he replied, though his tone betrayed him.

Mel reached up, her hand resting gently on his cheek. "With everything you've been through, Jayce, you don't seem fine." Her touch was warm, grounding, as her gaze searched his eyes.

Jayce closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "I just... I don't understand." His voice wavered, raw with unspoken emotion. "When I was in the Arcane with him... why would Viktor push me away? As if he wanted me to live."

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He paused, his brow furrowing as the memory resurfaced. "Was I wrong to let him do that? Should I have fought to stay?"

Mel tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful as she took in his words. "Jayce," she said softly, her voice filled with conviction, "I may not have answers to what he did, but maybe he wanted you to keep pursuing—not perfection, but purpose. To make Hextech what it was meant to be: not a weapon of mass destruction, but a tool to improve lives, to defend those who can't defend themselves. He pushed you away because he gave you another chance. He wanted Piltover to continue thriving. And he knew that would only happen if you lived."

Her words hung in the air, heavy yet comforting. She hesitated before adding, "I know how much you cared about Viktor. And I believe he cared about you just as much. That's why he didn't want you to take the sacrifice with him. Because he believed in you. He believed that you still have a purpose."

Jayce opened his eyes, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as her words sank in. The ache in his chest didn't disappear, but a faint glimmer of understanding began to take its place. He reached up, placing his hand over Mel's, his touch a quiet acknowledgment of her support.

"Thanks, Mel," he murmured, his voice steadier now. "I think... I needed to hear that."

She smiled warmly, the somber air around them beginning to lift. "Good. Because one day, when all this is behind us, you'll need to clean yourself up. Though," she added with a teasing grin, "I have to admit, the long hair and beard do kind of suit you."

Jayce chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, is that right? Says the woman who just revealed she has newfound powers three months ago and expects me to act like that's normal."

Mel raised an eyebrow, her smile turning sly. "Fair point. I'm still getting used to them myself."

Jayce smirked, some of his confidence returning. "Well, if you can adjust to that, maybe I can manage a haircut... eventually."

The two shared a brief laugh, the moment lightened as they found their footing amidst the weight of everything ahead. But as the laughter faded, Jayce's expression turned somber. He glanced down, hesitating before speaking.

"Your mother..." he began, his voice faltering. He paused, his eyes briefly meeting hers. "I'm... sorry for what happened to her."

Mel's face shifted, her smile disappearing as her expression hardened with a quiet pain. She took a moment before responding, her voice steady but tinged with emotion. "Even if she was my mother, her actions do not justify her innocence. Blood was shed—Piltover's blood. And while it hurts to see her gone... we can't ignore the damage she caused, alongside Atriox, against this city."

Jayce nodded, his throat tightening at her resolve. "I can't imagine how hard it must've been for you."

Mel's golden eyes softened slightly as she continued, her tone calm but resolute. "It wasn't easy. But she made her choices, Jayce. Choices that brought suffering to Piltover and its people. We have to be better than that. We can't let her legacy—her mistakes—define the future."

Jayce looked at her with a mixture of sympathy and admiration, seeing the strength behind her words. "You're right," he said quietly. "We'll make sure Piltover moves forward. Together."

Mel gave a small nod, her expression softening as she rested a hand briefly on his arm. "We have to. For Piltover—and for the people who still believe in us."

Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the corridor. A towering figure emerged from the shadows—it was Arbiter, his presence commanding as always. His deep, resonant voice broke the moment. "The council is waiting for both of you."

Jayce nodded, squaring his shoulders. "Thank you Arbiter, lead the way," he said firmly.

Arbiter gave a curt nod before turning on his heel, his steps steady and deliberate as he made his way toward the council chamber.

Mel glanced at Jayce, her sharp gaze softening. "Are you ready?" she asked, her tone quiet but laced with expectation.

Jayce hesitated for a moment, then inhaled deeply, the weight of the moment pressing on him. Exhaling slowly, he met her eyes. "Ready as I'll ever be," he said, his voice steady but carrying a hint of vulnerability.

Mel offered him a small, reassuring smile. "Good. Because they're waiting for us, not just you. We'll face this together."

With that, they followed Arbiter down the long hallway, the doors to the council room looming ahead like the threshold of another battle to be fought.