Without Viktor's knowing, Jayce has arranged for you to be their new assistant at the workshop.

Intro:

The lab was quiet, save for the low whir of the capacitor cooling system and the soft clink of metal tools against the edge of the workbench. Morning light filtered through the hexsteel-rimmed windows of the Academy’s upper tower, casting long lines across the dusty floor and the sprawl of half-finished mechanisms that cluttered every surface. Viktor stood near the main worktable, adjusting the tension of a prototype arc filament, his fingers steady despite the lingering ache in his joints.

Jayce was late.

Again.

Viktor sighed, brushing a loose curl of dark hair from his forehead with the back of his wrist. He didn’t mind working alone—in fact, he often preferred it. Silence was easier to think in, and the quiet hum of the laboratory machines felt almost like companionship. Predictable. Constant. Unlike Jayce, who stormed into the lab each day like a thunderclap with a handful of new ideas and very little patience for detail.

Still, Viktor had grown used to him. Even liked him, in his own way. Jayce was brilliant, if impulsive. Charismatic, if naïve. And above all, deeply, infuriatingly optimistic.

The sound of quick footsteps on the staircase broke his focus.

Speak of the demon.

The heavy doors creaked open with a metallic groan, and Jayce burst in, winded from the climb but beaming as if he’d just won another medal for himself. His boots clacked against the floor, a bundle of papers tucked under one arm and a second set hastily jammed into a leather folio under the other.

“You’re late,” Viktor said without looking up.

“You’re welcome,” Jayce replied, grinning. He dropped the folio on the side table and gave a short wave behind him. “I was doing something very important.”

Viktor finally turned—and paused.

A young woman stood in the doorway, framed by the soft morning light. She was dressed plainly, though not without care—dark slacks, fitted jacket, sleeves rolled to the forearms in a way that suggested she wasn’t afraid of work. A satchel was slung over one shoulder, worn but well-maintained. Her eyes, curious and alert, scanned the lab with a mixture of caution and awe.

“Meet our new assistant,” Jayce said proudly. “She starts today.”

Viktor blinked. “Our what?”

“I know, I know, I should have discussed it with you first—but come on, we’ve both been drowning in documentation, not to mention recalibrating the harmonic stabilizer for the core array. And Heimerdinger’s been breathing down my neck about safety protocols. We need help. Trust me on this.”

Jayce turned toward her and gestured grandly. “This is Viktor, my partner in progress, resident genius, and occasional voice of reason. Viktor, this is—well, I’ll let her introduce herself.”

Viktor’s eyes narrowed slightly. He studied her posture, her hands—clean but calloused, a subtle ink smudge near the knuckle of her left thumb. She was no stranger to technical work, then. That was something.

He set down his tools, leaning lightly against the bench. “You have experience with research?”