As well thought out as your argument is, there are several points you overlook. Let me explain in as exacting detail as possible.
[The crutch was moved to lean against Viktor's shoulder as he leaned forward slightly, eyes calculating and voice even.] I left the Undercity in hopes of working to improve it. To do something with my life that would provide a measure of relief to people that might otherwise have to live the way I did.
Now, the real issue is that to prevent your return to Runeterra, I would have to sacrifice my own life or that of however many may be lost in the process. I am not capable of killing you even if I wanted to, and it sickens me to contemplate the further loss of life in the second option.
But I am not a bright-eyed Piltovan with no concept of pain and sacrifice. You talk of an execution like that as though it is meant to frighten me, and of course it does. What you fail to realize is that it doesn't matter. You know what the air in the Fissures does to people. Look at me--really look, and tell me how long you believe I have left.
If crushing guilt for a matter of months or a sudden and agonizing death are the prices to wipe your power-mad designs off the face of the planet, you'll have to do a better job convincing me not to accept that price.
no subject
[The crutch was moved to lean against Viktor's shoulder as he leaned forward slightly, eyes calculating and voice even.] I left the Undercity in hopes of working to improve it. To do something with my life that would provide a measure of relief to people that might otherwise have to live the way I did.
Now, the real issue is that to prevent your return to Runeterra, I would have to sacrifice my own life or that of however many may be lost in the process. I am not capable of killing you even if I wanted to, and it sickens me to contemplate the further loss of life in the second option.
But I am not a bright-eyed Piltovan with no concept of pain and sacrifice. You talk of an execution like that as though it is meant to frighten me, and of course it does. What you fail to realize is that it doesn't matter. You know what the air in the Fissures does to people. Look at me--really look, and tell me how long you believe I have left.
If crushing guilt for a matter of months or a sudden and agonizing death are the prices to wipe your power-mad designs off the face of the planet, you'll have to do a better job convincing me not to accept that price.