As light as a feather you jumped to your feet and rushed past the desk.

Your newly acquired purple eyes jumped through the room. You could see everything, from the old, almost vanished footprints on the marble to the crenels of dust and the white hair that must have fallen out of Heimerdinger's white fur.

The smell of dust was in the air, mingled with old paper and glue.

Nobody was around, but your ears picked up dull mumbling and talking in the distance. It seemed to come from the crowded hall.

For a moment, you took the time, held your breath and tried to see if you could spot Viktor's voice in this sea of noises.

Words washed over you.

Sentences formed, ripped apart and reconnected with ends that didn't belong to them.

Irritated by the overwhelming response to your new hearing abilities, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to silence the mess.

But the words grew louder and louder.

Clapping mixed into it, first very calmly and then like the static noise of a broken electric machine.

A headache started to pound against the inside of your skull, stabbing your brain.

Small spots of light flashes before your inner eye.

Shaking your head, you managed to regain a fragment of your senses and clear your mind enough to make out a dull voice in the eye of the storm.

Low mumbling filled your ears.

Then, everything ripped apart and the words of Viktor reached you.

He had a habit of talking himself through the steps while working on something. Whenever he did so, his accent got a bit heavier and his voice a little less soft.

It was as if he tried to be his own teacher, not allowing a single mistake to be made. Whenever he had an idea stuck in his head he wouldn't rest until it was sitting in front of him, made in metal and screws.

Viktor thrived for perfection and nothing less which only made you wonder even more why he had fallen for something as flawed and broken like you.

He mumbled something to himself about how he would put certain parts together to make a whole.

The calmness of his breathing told you that he was composed and well put together on the outside. He wasn't letting anybody see how fast his heart beat.

A soft breath escaped his lips, to others probably mute, to you as loud as a scream.

"(Y/N).", he whispered with pride and a smile in his voice.

It was enough to make you falter.

The noise reappeared and flooded your mind, making everything drown in ringing and throbbing ear pain.

All at once, the strength that the liquid had given you was gone and you stumbled. Helpless, you fell to your knees.

Your hand shot up to seek support, grabbed one of the shelves and pulled it down.

Books fell onto your head.

Except for one.

One of them remained perfectly standing straight.

As another wave of strength put you back on your feet, you took another glance.

It was a simple mechanism, ridiculously so. You had seen Viktor build more complex hideouts than this to store away his valuable creations and other things he had made money of off.

With a sarcastic huff, you pulled the book back.

A clicking sound filled the silence.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Again, you pulled the book back.

Another click.

Nothing happened.

A flinch chased through your purple eyes.

You felt rage rising inside of your chest, making you clench your teeth and fists.

"I swear to the gods!", you hissed and grabbed the book with so much force that the sound of something ripping and breaking filled the room.

Struck by surprise, you blinked at the torn out book that you were now holding on your hand.

You had not expected this to happen. You didn't even know you had used such an amount of force.

Somehow, this was something that upset you.

The liquid didn't just enhance your hearing but all of your senses. Including your strength.

But in exchange it made you blind to your abilities and brought anger to your heart.

Whatever it was, it was something dangerous. Something that couldn't be controlled.

But now it was too late anyways.

Hopefully the effects would only be temporary.

A few moments passed in which you took the time to examine the mechanism that was hidden inside the book.

Then, very slowly, the shelf in front of you pulled back and revealed a gap, barely big enough for a dog to slip through.

A dog.

Or a Yordle.

"Fuck!", you cursed and dropped to your knees to check if it really was the only way.

You wouldn't fit through there, not even in a million years. Maybe if you'd break both of your shoulders but that wasn't ideal.

Irritated by this unfortunate turn of events, you pulled a face and grabbed the edges of the gap.

Almost immediately, wood splintered under your touch. A few pieces dug into the palm of your hand, cut the flesh and made it bleed even more.

But instead of pain, you felt rage conquering your body.

Your gaze managed to slip through the gap and past the secret entrance, right into a room that wasn't just filled to the ceiling with all kinds of strange looking things but the air was also beaming with the power of the Arcane.

As you pushed your hand through in an attempt to grab one of the containers, you felt a tingle run through your body.

It was just like when you had cracked the lock.

At first, the touch of magic was soft and tender. But then another wave of tension and pain hit you.

Struck by the shock, your eyes rolled back your body moved upwards.

As you lost control, your hands tightened and the wood shattered.

Thousands of little pieces dug into your palms.

Drops of blood splattered all over the floor.

Your vision flickered and for a short moment the world drowned in purple and anger.

Not even knowing what you were doing, you moved up and threw yourself against the shelf.

Glass shattered.

A way opened.