Chapter 31: Chapter 31: Progress Day! Again…

The sprawling tent of the academy bustled with the energy of Progress Day. Students and inventors proudly displayed their creations, each vying for attention and approval. But the centerpiece of it all was unmistakable—Tarren's invention, stretching from one end of the tent to the other, demanding space, attention, and skepticism in equal measure.

At one end of the device stood Cassandra Kirraman. She moved with the ease of someone well-versed in the art of diplomacy, her every gesture calculated to attract attention. With a sweep of her hand, she beckoned the group of merchants and high-ranking nobles closer. Her smile never faltered.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she began, "allow me to present Tarren, my family's apprenta, an innovator whose brilliance has already begun to shape the future of our great city."

Her words were designed to draw them in, to replace doubt with curiosity. Cassandra's demeanor hinted at a certainty that could not be questioned, as though the groundbreaking potential of Tarren's research was already the truth.

"And this," she added, gesturing toward the massive contraption behind her, "is just the beginning. Tarren's work is not merely a testament to his own genius but to the future of Piltover itself—a future filled with progress and unparalleled opportunity."

Even so, she couldn't entirely mask the skepticism that lingered in the eyes of her audience. Some merchants exchanged wary glances, their expressions betraying lingering doubts about both Tarren's invention and the bold claims surrounding it. A few nobles murmured among themselves, their words too soft to catch but their raised brows hinting at incredulity. Cassandra, however, was unshaken. She met their gazes directly.

"Today, you stand on the precipice of history." She continued. "What you witness here will not just be remembered—it will define the era to come."

The crowd shifted, her words beginning to chip away at their initial hesitance. Though doubt lingered, curiosity had taken root, and all eyes now turned to Tarren and his machine. Cassandra stepped aside with a subtle, satisfied smile, knowing she had set the stage for what was to come.

Tarren, meanwhile, lingered at the control panel of his device, making final adjustments. He wasn't nervous—he rarely was—but he found himself longing for the moment this whole ordeal would be over, after all, he had done this 'presentation' multiple times already, all to the same fat faces of the nobles.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Cassandra announced, turning toward Tarren, "allow me to introduce the mind behind this remarkable invention. He will explain it in his own words."

The crowd shifted their attention to him. Tarren straightened as he began with a faint smile.

"This," he said, gesturing toward the massive contraption, "is what I call the acceleration machine. Its purpose is simple: to temporarily multiply an object's speed by up to a thousand times, without causing any lasting effects or damage to the object. Once the acceleration is complete, the object returns to its original speed, as though it had never been altered."

The murmurs began almost immediately. Doubt and confusion spread through the crowd like wildfire.

"Impossible," someone muttered.

"How is that even feasible?" asked another voice, louder this time.

Tarren's faint smile remained. "Magic," he replied simply.

The word sparked a commotion. Protests erupted among the nobles and merchants. Magic was a taboo topic in Piltover—a relic of the past, something that belonged to barbarity, not the scientific age of the City of Progress.

Cassandra quickly stepped in. "Ladies and gentlemen, I assure you that this research has been thoroughly authorized by the academy. Some of you may recall the incident a few weeks ago—the explosion in one of the city's apartments. That, I admit, was a result of early experimentation. But the project has been closely monitored ever since, with every precaution taken to ensure safety."

The murmurs softened, though doubt lingered on many faces. Cassandra turned toward Tarren, offering him a pointed look. "If you would, Tarren, a demonstration."

Tarren nodded, stepping toward the machine. From his pocket, he retrieved a simple glass marble. He held it up for the crowd to see, its ordinary nature plain and unremarkable.

"This is just a marble," he said. "No tricks, no enhancements." He placed it into the tube, giving it a gentle push so it began to roll very slowly down the track. With a quick motion, he sealed the tube and returned to the control panel.

The machine hummed to life as Tarren flipped several switches. Blue magical circles began to form along the length of the tube, glowing brighter as the machine powered up. The crowd shifted uneasily at the sight, but no one spoke.

Finally, Tarren pressed the activation button. With a sharp crack, the blue circles disappeared in an instant, replaced by a powerful ripple that shot through the tube. The marble vanished, leaving an audible gasp from the audience.

Tarren calmly walked to the opposite end of the device. There, he unsealed the tube, revealing the marble still rolling slowly out as though it had never stopped or its speed been altered. He picked it up and held it aloft.

"As you can see," he said, "the marble remains unharmed. The machine's enchantment only temporarily multiplied its acceleration. Once the process ended, the marble returned to its original speed, with no lingering effects."

For a moment, the crowd was silent, absorbing what they had just witnessed. Then, an older man's voice broke through.

"Incredible," he said. "This will revolutionize how we trade with other cities. If applied en masse, we could transport goods across the continent in a fraction of the time."

"It could be done," Tarren replied, "though it would be an expensive and complex endeavor."

The man nodded, a smile breaking across his face. Slowly, the rest of the crowd followed suit, applause swelling through the tent. Cassandra's smile was serene, but there was a glimmer of triumph in her eyes. Her family's investment in Tarren was already bearing fruit, and she knew this moment would only elevate their influence further.

Tarren, however, remained distant. As the applause washed over him, he stared down at the marble in his hand. Pride? Disgust? He couldn't place what he felt. The invention wasn't truly his idea—it had come from another life, another time. But the execution? That was all him.

Perhaps, he mused, this was his way of life now. Whether it was hextech or something else, all he had ever done so far was build someone else's ideas. Maybe that was enough.

Tarren slipped the marble back into his pocket, raising his head as the crowd continued to cheer.