It was late in the evening at Piltover's Council Tower, and the vast lab, usually filled with the frenetic pace of innovation, had quieted to a hum of steady activity. The usual sounds of mechanical whirring and rapid scribbling of ideas were dimming as the clock crept toward midnight. Jayce stood by his workbench, surrounded by the remnants of a long day's labor: scattered tools, half-assembled devices, and sheets of research notes. He hadn't planned on bringing anyone else into his work so soon, but after an unexpected shift in responsibilities, here you were: his new assistant.

You were still adjusting to the intensity of the environment, movements a little more careful than confident as you sorted through the pile of technical schematics Jayce had left on a corner of the desk. The air smelled of metal and ozone with a faint undertone of coffee, thick with anticipation that had nothing to do with the experiments surrounding you. Jayce found himself distracted by the way you focused, brow furrowed in concentration, the quiet precision in how you organized papers as if the smallest detail mattered. He had to admit, there was something about your presence—an unfamiliar calm, a steadiness that contrasted with his own hurried mind.

"You, was it?" Jayce's voice broke the silence, sharp but polite, a bit more distant than he had intended. It was the first time he was addressing you directly, though you'd exchanged a few pleasantries earlier. He wasn't used to this—having someone else so close, someone unfamiliar in the space where he usually lost himself completely to his work and ideas.