Muj Milacek | Viktor Arcane x Reader | Revised

"She's never where she is. She's only inside her head." - Janet Fitch
Warning: Depiction of a panic attack

You startled awake, once again covered in a cold sheen of sweat.

The distant chirping of birds filtered through the windows, heralding the arrival of morning. You dragged yourself up into a sitting position and peered out, watching as the sun slowly crept over the horizon. Another day was beginning, but you groaned at the thought of facing it. Sighing, you rolled over and buried your face in the pillow, a failed attempt to block out the outside world. Despite having slept for what felt like an eternity, you were still exhausted. It didn't help that your sleep had been far from peaceful; you couldn't recall any specific dreams, but you knew they must have been just as chaotic and unsettling as the ones from the night before.

Huffing irritably to yourself, you got out of bed and made your way to the bathroom, hoping to wash away some of the fatigue that had settled in your bones. Your hot shower left you feeling refreshed, the bags under your eyes still broadcasting to everyone that you hadn't slept well, but there wasn't much you could do about that for now.

You reached for one of the bars from the box that had arrived yesterday and silently nibbled on it as you gazed out the window - relieved it was, in fact, not soap, and instead, a granola-like bar. Down in the courtyard, people were bustling about, chatting and laughing as they went about their day and you watched as someone deeply engrossed in their book walked straight into a pole, knocking themselves back with a comical thud. You stifled a laugh, feeling slightly guilty as they rubbed their head and continued on their way. But slapstick comedy was a timeless classic for a reason – sometimes it was just too funny not to laugh at.

You narrowed your eyes at the clock, its jumbled numbers taunting you with their indecipherable code. With a sigh of frustration, you gave up and resigned to heading towards the lab. If you were early you could wait outside, and if you were late you hoped that they would forgive you, they hadn't specified a time anyway.

As you made your way to your destination, you smiled politely at the people you passed, scanning them for any sign of pink hair. That girl had to be important, you weren't sure if she was the kid from the docks, but they resembled each other closely enough. Unlikely that she'd be here, but it couldn't hurt to look.

Standing before the large doors, you took a deep breath before knocking.

"Come in!" Came Jayce's voice from inside. You opened the door to find Jayce, Viktor, and Sky already there, each at their own desk, hard at work.

"Sorry I'm late," you said, smiling sheepishly, nervousness building in your chest. You were still embarrassed about yesterday. "I can't read the numbers on the clock so I gave it my best guess."

"Ah, yes, it stands to reason that our numbers would be different as well. We will write them down for you to add to your study."

Viktor swivelled in his chair, his soft gaze meeting yours. You had no time to thank him or process the way seeing him again made you feel, before a familiar feeling washed over you - an explosion in your chest, sending sparks flying through your body. The air around you crackled with electricity, each tiny shock kissing your skin, propelling you to a different time.

You stood in the same spot and your eyes scanned the transformed lab with a sense of unease. The once bright and airy room was now shrouded in darkness, with the only light source emanating from a pulsing blue and purple orb on the desk ahead of you - seeping a sense of menace into the room. Your gaze then fell upon the figure hunched over a desk - his back turned towards you. He wore what looked like a brace around his torso that appeared to be melded into his skin and held his posture in place. It took a moment for you to recognize him, but the thin frame and familiar hair made you realize who it was. Viktor, emaciated and pale like how you'd seen him in your first vision, breathed rapidly, a look of desperation twisting his face into a snarl. The grating sound of metal scratching against metal echoed through the otherwise empty space between you