Capítulo 29: Chapter 29: The Beginning of Something New

Tarren stood before a statue. It depicted a man he didn't recognize, a detail his mentor, Professor Heimerdinger, seemed keenly aware of. The statue's shiny stone glinted in the pale sunlight, casting long shadows over the staircase around him.

Heimerdinger, the aged Yordle, stared at the statue with a wistful expression. His bushy mustache twitched slightly as he turned to Tarren.

"Do you know who this man was?" Heimerdinger asked, his voice filled with nostalgia.

Tarren shook his head. "No, professor. I don't."

"This is Stanwick Pididly," Heimerdinger began, gesturing to the statue. "An old friend of mine, from a time long past. He wasn't a man of great acclaim—most of his work, quite literally, blew up. But he excelled at something far more important: teaching. His students remembered him fondly for that. It's a legacy that lingers even now."

Heimerdinger's eyes lowered to the ground, his smile fading into something softer, sadder. "Compared to me, who… well… had a pupil exiled."

The words hung in the air like a distant thunderstorm. Tarren shifted uncomfortably, unsure whether to speak or let the silence stretch. In the end, he chose the latter.

After a moment, Heimerdinger looked up again, his face brightened by a determined smile. "But mistakes are meant to teach us, my boy. I've learned from mine, and I won't repeat them. I'm sure you've already guessed, but your research on this… hextech will be closely monitored by the academy. As dean, I'll oversee it—but much of the responsibility will lie with my assistant."

"Your assistant?" Tarren asked, raising a brow. "You mean Viktor?"

"Yes, Viktor," Heimerdinger replied. "Anything you wish to pursue must first be submitted to him. He'll determine if it's appropriate and safe, both for the academy and for Piltover as a whole. You're delving into uncharted territory, Tarren, and with great potential comes great risk."

Tarren sighed. "Alright, professor. Thanks for the heads-up."

"Let me make this perfectly clear," Heimerdinger said sternly, his tone sharp enough to cut glass. "If you're caught researching anything unapproved, you'll be expelled immediately. No exceptions this time."

Tarren nodded. "Understood."

The professor's stern demeanor softened, and he gave Tarren an encouraging pat on the leg. "Now then, I'll leave you to it. I imagine your mind is already brimming with ideas. Progress Day is just around the corner, after all! You'll want something to showcase, I'm sure."

Tarren watched as Heimerdinger turned and walked away, the Yordle's small figure blending into the crowd of the academy.

—

Now, Tarren is in his own place, the quiet hum of his workspace a stark contrast to the lively academy outside. He sat at his bench, goggles perched on his face, manipulating a piece of metal with delicate movements of his fingers. The alloy floated in the air, twisting and shaping itself under the influence of his ferromancy. Slowly but surely, the material formed into a giant needle, one of many scattered across his workbench.

A knock at the door broke his concentration, and the needle fell with a loud clatter. Tarren cursed under his breath, standing to answer the door.

When he opened it, he found Viktor standing there. The man's posture was straighter now, his cane replaced by the mechanical brace Tarren had designed for him.

"Viktor?" Tarren said, surprised. "Do you need something from me?"

"Well, look who's been busy," Viktor chuckled. "I'm sure you've heard about my new position."

"Oh, right. You're my babysitter now," Tarren said with a sigh, opening the door wider. "Come in."

Viktor smiled faintly, stepping into the workshop. His sharp eyes scanned the cluttered space, taking in the array of tools, prototypes, and scattered blueprints.

"How have you been?" Tarren asked, leading him further inside. "The professor isn't pushing you too hard now that you've got the brace, is he?"

"Can't really complain," Viktor replied. "I've been keeping myself useful to the academy."

"Well, you're about to get a lot busier." Tarren smirked as he opened a drawer, revealing a pile of blueprints. Some looked crisp and new, while others were worn and faded, their edges frayed from years of handling.

"My, my," Viktor murmured, picking up one of the designs. "You've been more productive than I expected."

"It's mostly just afterthoughts," Tarren said with a shrug. "Stuff I thought up before… well, before everything went to shit."

Viktor's gaze flicked to Tarren, his expression softening. "I heard about your family. My condolences."

Tarren's response was a quiet hum, neither dismissive nor accepting. "Right. Anyway, could you start looking over these? The sooner you approve them, the sooner I can get to work."

Viktor nodded, thumbing through the blueprints with ease. "I'll do what I can, though some of these will likely need Professor Heimerdinger's input. I'm no expert in the arcane, but my background in workplace safety should help streamline the process."

"Fair enough," Tarren said, leaning back against his workbench. "Thanks, Viktor."

Viktor glanced up from the designs, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Don't thank me just yet. Let's see how many of these actually pass review."

—

Tarren sat stiffly in Viktor's dimly lit office, his fingers drumming against his thigh in a restless rhythm. The walls were lined with shelves stacked haphazardly with books, scrolls, and tools, and the air carried the faint tang of metal and oil. Across the desk, Viktor leaned back in his chair, a look of exasperation etched across his face.

With a sigh, Viktor slid a piece of paper across the desk. "Here."

Tarren snatched the paper, scanning it quickly. His eyes widened in disbelief.

"90% rejected?" Tarren exclaimed, holding the paper aloft. "Come on… seriously?"

Viktor pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly trying to summon patience. "Most of your 'blueprints,' Tarren, are weapons," he said matter-of-factly. "Of course they're going to get rejected."

"They're not weapons," Tarren shot back defensively. "Well, most of them aren't."

"Most?" Viktor echoed dryly, reaching into a box by his desk. He pulled out one of Tarren's blueprints and spread it out on the table. "This 'beam emitter,' for instance. You wrote this yourself: 'This has the capability of vaporizing a wall in an instant.' And you're trying to tell me it's not a weapon?"

"It's a tool—"

"For destruction," Viktor interrupted. He pulled out another blueprint. "And this… this battle armor? Are you planning to start a war, or are you expecting one?"

Tarren grabbed the blueprints and rolled them up, muttering under his breath. "It's a personal project, alright? Look, if nothing else, at least approve the crystal stabilization research."

"That's even more dangerous," Viktor countered, shaking his head. "You're proposing to overload the crystal until it collapses on itself. If anything goes wrong, you'd take out half the academy. Possibly the entire city. Even without being an expert in the arcane, I can see how reckless that is."

"Viktor," Tarren pressed, his voice rising, "if that research isn't approved, you can kiss the idea of hextech being in everyone's daily lives goodbye. The crystals in their current state aren't stable enough for widespread use."

Viktor let out a long breath, leaning forward in his chair. "I might consider it," he said finally, "if—and only if—you can secure a research facility with adequate safety precautions."

"Great," Tarren said, throwing up his hands. "Then find me one."

"It's not that simple." Viktor's tone grew firm. "The academy is hesitant to pour infinite resources into a project like this. Thus far, all you've shown them is the potential of hextech, not a concrete invention or application. You need something tangible."

Tarren's mind churned with possibilities. "I could ask my sponsor," he said after a moment.

Viktor frowned. "I wouldn't recommend it. Councillor Kiramman is a powerful ally, yes, but you need to think carefully. If hextech becomes associated solely with the Kirammans, it could create monopolistic control. This technology is too important to be owned by a single family."

Tarren sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face. "Politics. Of course."

Viktor offered a small, understanding smile. "Stick with the academy for now. They're a neutral party. Build your reputation, prove yourself with your work. You're still young, Tarren. You have time to make an impact. For now, focus on one project and present it at Progress Day. Let that be your cornerstone."

"Just one project?" Tarren asked skeptically.

Viktor reached for another blueprint, unfolding it with care. It depicted a simple yet elegant design: a long cylindrical tube with intricate devices affixed to each end.

"This," Viktor said, sliding the blueprint toward Tarren. "It's still theoretical, but the concept is extraordinary. If you can make this work—especially on a large scale—you won't just prove yourself. You'll revolutionize the way we live. This invention could change everything."

Tarren studied the blueprint, his brow furrowing. "I don't know," he said slowly. "It works in theory, on a small scale. But scaling it up… I'd need to rework the entire design. A massive use of the crystal could result in a catastrophe."

"I thought you were doubting yourself for a moment," Viktor said, a glimmer of excitement in his usually reserved tone. "Think of the possibilities. This isn't just a stepping stone, Tarren. It's a leap forward. If you do this right…"

Tarren hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. I'll focus on this. I'll have it ready by Progress Day."

Viktor leaned back, his expression softening into one of approval. "Good. Prove yourself with this, and then we can discuss your 'personal projects.' I'm sure Professor Heimerdinger will want to see it, if you ask me, I know he has a hidden interest in pyrotechnics."

Tarren clicked his tongue in irritation but said nothing. He rolled up the blueprint and tucked it under his arm. "Fine. I'll see you in a few weeks, then."