And so Jayce leaned down and kissed him, right on the broad, smooth plane of the Herald’s mask. There were no lips there to receive him, but the metal warmed nonetheless, and they both swooned just a little—a momentary, heady lack of gravity—because for Jayce this was Viktor and for Viktor this was Jayce, and that was all that mattered in the end. It wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty damn close.















