Chapter Text
You were still disturbingly good at this.
It was like a plug had been pulled, and inspiration flowed freely now that you were back to making weapons of mass destruction.
You didn’t know what Jhin already had, but you did know he stuck to the black and red motif religiously. With that in mind you drew up some drafts and threw out the ones that weren’t doing it for you, leaving four blueprints that hopefully would live up to your expectations. And Jhins for that matter.
Oddly enough, the prospect of making things for him was giving you something almost like stage fright. Perhaps it was because he was so committed to the ‘aesthetic~’, or maybe your professional criticism calluses just needed to grow back.
Either way, you were trying not to let your fervor run away with you, nor let it be stamped out by the prospect of being disappointing. It had been eight years after all.
Catching yourself, you slap the papers on the desk and glare at the wall.
You didn’t need assurance. You didn’t need validation.
What you did need was a break. A reality check ideally.
Grabbing your coat, you walk out the door and down to the bar below. Simon would set you straight. In no way shape or form would you ever be worried about Jhins opinion of you.
Your life may depend on keeping his interest when it comes to engineering weapons, but that was where it ended. Even then you would not chase his favor though. No you would rather just let him kill you and that was that.
Hm. Actually. That's not a good mentality. That was actually your indignation talking again. Killing yourself over the smallest principle, that was 24 year-old you’s cardinal trait.
The door whistles as you walk in, making Simon look up and smile once he sees your face. You sit down at your unassigned-assigned seat and greet him.
He nods back and smiles politely, not conversing with you just yet. Once he finishes whatever he was doing behind the bar he turns his attention back to you, looking slightly concerned now.
“You don’t look like you’ve had a mental break.” He remarks, as though he had been told otherwise.
“Mental break?” You huff a disbelieving laugh.
“A friend of yours came by, wondering if something had happened. Since you weren’t home she came down and asked if we knew anything.”
Looking at him puzzled, you wonder why Vayne was talking to people instead of just paging you. “I saw her just a few days ago.”
Simon squints slightly. “Did you? She says you up and vanished after you all went out one night and hardly ever text back.”
Oh shit. Wait. “Who was it?”
“Her name was Rhea I think. She seemed really worried. She mentioned that a friend of yours had passed and was trying to get over it, but then something happened.”
You rest your forehead on your palm. You completely forgot to say anything to your friends after Jazze’s call failed that one night. As far as they knew the ‘guy’ Jazze saw over your shoulder had you trapped in a cell or something, unless they saw your interview on TV.
“Right… A lot happened, it slipped my mind.”
Simon just hums in response and gives you a ‘if you say so’ look. “Did you want anything or…?”
You ask for something simple, and Simon gets right to it. While he does that you make haste and text everyone back, searching for their contacts through the spam you got after the mall incident.
The bar is calm and warm, as well as clean, thanks to Simon. Almost every place in the City has some form of clutter in a corner or some tarnishing on some surfaces, but Simon has made it his personal mission to prevent that, making this place look like it belongs a few dozen stories higher.
In some ways it feels safer than your home upstairs, more now than ever. You felt less isolated, and therefore less out in the open. The company of other people, even if they weren’t paying any attention to you, was grounding. Alone you would find yourself staring at nothing, your brain spinning plans and fighting theoretical battles.
After your meeting with Jhin, you felt off kilter. One half of you was just as angry as you were when PROJECT showed up and demanded your silence. The other half wanted to move away and do your damnedest to disappear, even though you knew better and knew you were in too deep to get out now. Not with so many strings tied around your life.
Simon kept you occupied, which you appreciated. You both watched and commentated on the TV. It was showing a battle royale of some sort. The contestants had gone through extensive procedures to ensure that their ‘deaths’ were not permanent. Black and gold filigree everywhere– it felt very tacky.
At some point you both were drawn in too deep to talk much and focus at the same time. In the silence your mind wandered off the game itself and to the stylistic choices the game made, and the hubris of the champions after any small victory.
You huff a hollow laugh, one brow tilting upwards with a funny thought. Jhin would hate this game, but these people were just like him. The comparison would probably set him off, but it was true all the same.
An idea strikes.
You say your goodbyes to Simon, who gives you a concerned look as you hurriedly take your leave. You had only just gotten there, so no doubt he was wondering what had you so pressed to leave. Nonetheless he waves as you run up the stairs and return to your office, finding it wonderfully empty of uninvited guests.
You set to work immediately. One of the drafts that you had drawn up was only spared from the fire because the idea was so insane that you had to be sure it wouldn’t work before you threw it out. You had no idea what it would look like before, but you had a vision now.
This was not a weapon but a frontal cortex upgrade. The original plan was to allocate all decision making that concerned target selection to this one upgrade. In a fight, the upgrade would be the first thing all trigger reflexes run through before anything else, letting you defend yourself before you even knew you were being attacked.
For obvious reasons, it was completely insane. To override human decision making and put hardware in the admin chair was all kinds of fucked up, but you were making this for a specific person. A person who you knew would love the idea.
In the event that you were being swarmed by similar enemies, the upgrade would have a background process that used pattern recognition to assume details about each one. If they were all MORDEKAISER sentries for instance, you would already know where to hit each one because you already killed the first.
It would have to be an external upgrade, centered around the head, since you already knew that such a task would require its own coolant system and CPU.
The name came clearly in your mind when you sat back and looked over the paper.
Hubris.
That's the only way to describe what this is. You are designing a machine that waters down everything to its weaknesses.
For the next 14 hours, you did nothing but work on Hubris. The software link between the user and Hubris was called Ataraxia, and it took up most of that time. The prototype you fashioned in the liking of a laurel wreath, giving it a black glassy exterior and a golden finish. Of course, you would probably end up changing it to fit in with Jhins black and red aesthetic he had going on, but for now this was what you wanted.
You have been awake for 32 hours now, and you were starting to feel it. However, you refused to sleep until you have tested it. You didn’t want to go to sleep and wake up to find you made some mistake. You wanted a finished project waiting for you.
You pick it up and stand, placing it on your head as you start up Ataraxia, unpacking and fastening the link between you and your Hubris.
The first thing you noticed was the sudden lack of stimulus. You were seeing and feeling everything the same, but your mind seemed dulled to small details, as if you were bored.
You make a disgruntled face and look around some more. You knew better than to pick up a weapon right now, even if you were trying to be sure it was working properly; but you couldn’t think of anything else you would rather do. The plan was for you to see if you could do crossword puzzles faster or something, but that was stupid now that you thought of it.
Well it works. You roll your eyes and terminate the link, taking the wreath off your head.
The base levels, you would test it properly there tomorrow. Destiny also needed a tune up.
(V’s Theme (B-Side MegaMash) by Tribula)