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Chapter One

I looked upon the face of Death itself, and asked, "What do you desire?"

While the lidless skull had no flesh to shape into an expression, it still managed to convey confusion with a subtle tilt of its head, eye sockets dark, but with an ethereal blue glow that cast no light.

WHAT?

Shrugging, I opened my hands. "Class A trades in souls and suffering, B in favors and fables, even if it's yours, C is, well, it's going to be something hyper-specific, odd, and more than a little distasteful, E trades in personal power, of one sort or another, but Class D? With access to the Multiverse, physical goods should be easy to get, life-force is easily farmable, so what should I get for the undead?"

YOU ARE AN AGENT. Death noted. IT WOULD BE EXPECTED FOR YOU TO RECRUIT TALENT.

"Well, yeah," I replied. "And I will, with time. But past that? What do the people here like? I was recruited by Class B, and did my research for them, but I didn't expect to be traded off." Which was a possibility I hadn't known existed, and one that hadn't been mentioned in our Basic Training.

Our Final Exam had gone well enough, though I'd never be able to look at Sailor Moon the same way again, and we'd done our job with a minimum of issue, keeping everyone alive and relatively whole, but this had been unexpected. To be valued for what I'd done was something I could get, but to be valued for what another version of me had done was a bit... well, I was still getting used to just how differently The Company worked.

And hearing about what he'd done... I could understand it. After I'd heard the situation he, I, the other me had found ourselves in, I could even see myself doing the same thing. I'd been focused on making sure my friends survived, our Flag-Bearer backing me on that, which had been a pleasant surprise. Stacy was... well, she was an idiot, but she was fully aware of that fact, and had picked our mission not understanding the situation she was dropping us into. It was aggravating, but I couldn't really blame her, and neither could the rest of our squad.

She was a Class D recruit, but so was Steven, which hadn't told me that much about their hiring policies. We'd all said our goodbyes, the girl becoming an empathetic vampire, of all things, which was in line with what little I knew of this department's empowerment scheme: A seed of supernatural ability that could pay off, in time, growing into something far grander. However, since I was a Class B recruit, I'd gotten a different contract, an older agreement, and a much more front-loaded, open-ended set of options.

I'd checked, and the terms were still in place, but, now that I was working for The Company equivalent of not only a different county, or country, but continent, that meant I was walking in nearly blind to a completely unknown culture.

THE FAIR FOLK ARE NOT THE ONLY ONES WHO TRADE IN FAVORS Death informed me. AS THE LEGAL EXPERTS, WE TRADE IN ALL THINGS. WE OVERSEE AGREEMENTS AND DEBTS AND PAYMENTS AND IN THE END ALL THAT ARE OWED RECEIVE THEIR DUE.

"Oh, that's... useful, I guess?" I replied, as that didn't help me in the slightest. "I'm... I'm not going to get anything for Class A. There's making deals with devils, and there's going out of your way to appease them, and that's not me."

THE FAVOR WOULD NOT BE PAID IF YOU WERE.

I blinked, "Oh, um, cool. So what do you like. Personally."

The incarnation of Death considered that for a moment, before pronouncing, ... CATS.

Nodding, that tracked with something Stacy had said one night, about the Husbando she wanted if she survived. "Oh, so like Garfie-"

THAT IS NOT A CAT.

Or not. "Fair enough," I agreed. "And, actually, just wondering, but does the name Rincewind mean anything to you?"

YOU ARE NOT RELATED TO HIM, Death replied, which was a yes. I HAVE CHECKED.

Feeling honestly better that this Death was that Death, I continued my original thought. "So, my bad for being too specific. And too vague. A better question would be that if I was going to go out of my way to find things that would help you, as my overseer, while I'm doing my own thing, what should I keep an eye out for?"

NOVELTIES, Death informed me, after a moment of consideration. OUR REACH IS WIDE, BUT THERE IS ALWAYS SOMETHING NEW TO FIND. CREATE, INVENT, AND DEVISE ORIGINAL PHENOMENA. YOU MORTALS CAN BE SO FASCINATING, the Grim Reaper remarked, then sighed, AND YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW REPETITIVE POWERFUL BEINGS CAN BE.

"Is that why your Class doesn't give out full Catalog access?" I questioned. "Because adversity, and limited capabilities, breed innovation and ingenuity?"

At the skeleton's nod, and statement of, IT IS ONE REASON, a plan started to form.

I'd had ideas of being a dragon, or of being a hero, but I didn't feel like either right now, so perhaps taking a different tack would work better. And I could always be both, later. "I can work with that. Start small and work my way up."

YOU DO NOT NEED TO, Death noted. THE MULTIVERSE IS YOUR MOLLUSK.

I chuckled, "Yeah, but I know me. Given a blank check, I'd go somewhere safe, or somewhere I could do a lot of good. Or both, if I could get away with it. Tell me, have any of my other incarnations chosen to be Jayce Talis?"

The embodiment of mortality's end gave me a skeptical look, which was impressive since he lacked eyebrows. TIER FIVE IS NOT STARTING SMALL. ALSO NO, THEY HAVE NOT.

"Oh, I'm not dropping in there," I smiled. "After all, if I'm going to walk a new path, it's far easier to start at the beginning."

​

Eyes that had not been mine a moment ago flashed open, even as a girl's voice called, "Jayce!"

My head hurt, but that's what happens when you hit your head hard enough to die, this Dimensional Variance one where he'd been thrown just so by the blast, and hadn't survived. Having a Reaper-Man for a boss made manipulating such moments easy, and Standard Isekei Insertion Variant D was a go. I was healed enough that I'd live, but it'd look bad, covering any 'settling in' issues, or even personality shifts, The Company an old hand at maintaining Masquerades.

Throwing myself forward, and to my feet, I looked left, to where blue hair framed worried and fearful cobalt eyes. "Stay there, Caitlyn!" I commanded, stumbling as memories of my old body warred with my new one, my proprioception severely out of whack. "I saw someone, and need to see if they're okay, but it might be dangerous!"

Not bothering to wait for her reply, I charged into the cloud of floating blue sparks and through the door into Jayce's, into my apartment, a pink-haired girl who looked every inch a Zaunite urchin, maybe Caitlyn's age, glancing back at me as she ran for my balcony. I wanted to get to her, find a way to spin this, however, I could see the energy from the detonated hexite crystal spreading and reacting in ways that Jayce had always been incredibly careful to avoid, azure bolts of mana flowing out in electric-like arcs and eating away at the mortar holding the building together.

"Get back!" I yelled, motioning for them to pull away, the girl looking at me strangely, confused, "It's going to collapse!" I told her.

Her eyes widened and she practically leapt to the balcony, where two boys and a young girl with powder-blue hair had sprawled, the older girl grabbing the heavier of the two boys, who in some ways looked like I had when I was younger, and dragged him to his feet, away from the sparking stone.

A moment later I saw the outside wall give way, along with the balcony proper, the stripped wood and bricks of my apartment floor still able to rest upon each other, but the wall and overhanging stone wouldn't have any support once the destructive effects of the unregulated mana ran through them.

Taking several more steps inside my workshop, I called out to them, "Are you all okay?" The older girl looking over her four-man crew, then gave me a hesitant nod. "Thank goodness. I don't know what happened," I lied, "but-"

I was cut off by the sound of brass horns, the city guard being alerted, and I winced, explaining this was going to be a bitch. The pink-haired girl swore to herself, the other two members of her group standing up as well, and I tried to speak with a bit of extra oomph, trying to use the Lure I'd just gotten.

"I'm sure I can explain this to them, if yo-" my throat burned, and I coughed, my hand reflexively coming up to cover my mouth, and coming away bloody, the power not fully settled, just like I'd been warned.

Even if it had worked perfectly, it wasn't a command, only a Suggestion, and what I'd gotten out wasn't enough of one, as the girl looked conflicted for a moment, before she shook her head, as if clearing it, turning to the others and shouting, "Go!"

I took another few steps, but they were fast, and I only had enough time to choke out a, "Be careful!" before they'd leapt over the railing, and were gone, despite this being the fourth floor. "Fuck," I swore to myself, my initial plan not having worked, but that was fine.

I didn't have one plan.

I had dozens.

"Jayce?" I heard behind me, and turned to see Caitlyn, looking in. "Jayce, you look terrible!"

"I'm fine," I replied, shifting to the next one in sequence. I had a bolt-hole, and, not having passed out, I had time. Not enough to go into the Undercity, and really stop things, but enough to mitigate the damage. The research the previous owner of this body had been doing was only not highly illegal because it was so cutting edge there weren't that many laws against it, but a lot of the equipment was restricted, forcing him to source it from the undercity, so if I could stash the worst of it Home. . .

Looking around, foreign memories cataloging everything I saw, I winced as I very much wouldn't be able to stash it all in the few minutes I had, and with an observer to boot. Catching sight of myself in a broken mirror, I winced again, as I looked even worse than my apartment. Blood was dripping from my nose, the corners of my eyes, and my mouth, a splotchy bruise spreading across half my face, a dark stain spreading on my shirt, another on my pants from shrapnel, and the room did tilt a little, but I was promised I'd be fine, and I'd trusted The Company this far. There was no reason not to do so now.

"Oh," I stated, but shook my head. "I'm, I've been worse," I deferred, okay, Plan B couldn't work with them gone, and C, no, torching this place would look too suspicious, and would set off another blast. There's more Hexite here that Powder didn't grab. Plan E then. "I, I might not be feeling the best," I admitted, not having to fake the weakness I was experiencing, but able to power through it. "Maybe go get someone?"

The girl nodded, quickly running out the door, and I sighed, calling on Jayce's memories to figure out the time it'd take her if there was someone right outside, which was less than I would've liked, but more than I needed. With a thought, I called my Company phone to myself, opening a portal Home. Even if things went really bad, with just a few pieces of tech here, I could complete Jayce's research.

After all, unlike him I knew it was possible, and all of his skills had been added to my own.

So, open a portal, and move, grabbing the stabilizer, the secondary crystals, the extrapolator, the proto-matrix, and with a few steps, I moved out into another world, my own private domain.

It was a nearly featureless concrete room.

Well, this works, I thought, quickly putting the devices down, spotting a doorway in the back, with stairs leading up. Turning around I saw the gate, which was something else entirely, but I didn't have time to gawk, I needed to go.

Back in, more tech, back out, drop off, back in, more tech, back out, drop off, back in, and I could start to hear footsteps on stairs in the distance. Dashing to my bedroom, I re-opened the portal and hurled the most important books through, and the less breakable devices, then one trip through and back for the fragile things, and I could hear them in the hallway.

With time running out, I grabbed the mana detector and flicked it on, as I needed to know if this would be spotted, and reached deep again, taking a breath and Speaking. "Don't worry," I commanded, and smiled when the needle didn't budge. Flicking it off, I fell onto my bed as my throat seized, and I coughed up more blood, but that meant half my remaining plans were still on the table.

If Siren's Song was Magic, the way the people on Runeterra understood it, then there was a chance, in the city meant to get away from mages, they'd have some way to detect my using it. Would do it, with the very same device I'd just utilized, one that was only mildly restricted, and which I didn't toss into the portal, only because I'd already stowed my backup there, and I needed something for them to find.

However, whatever it was that gave my words a little extra weight, some sort of psychic effect if I had to guess, it was Out-Of-Context for the people of this magic-rich realm, and thus still a valuable tool. I wasn't the Purple Man, and, just like any sort of Mind Control ability, the more radical the Suggestion the more the recipient would be able to resist it, or realize there'd been anything out of character in their actions after the fact, but as an ace in the hole, it wasn't bad, let alone my Full House.

Laughing at my own terrible pun, and wincing in pain, I closed the portal to said House as two guardsman ran inside, looking around, one with his hand cocked back, a bolas ball at the ready. "Over here," I tried to call, coughing again as Caitlyn pushed her way through, calling my name.

"I told you he was hurt!" she chided them, and the two men at least looked sheepish, the one with his arm raised lowering it, shooting his partner a look, and running back down the hall.

My patron's, well, Jayce's patron's daughter ran up to me, as I bled a little on my sheets. "Oh my goodness!" she cried in dismay, and I just gave her a half smile, warned about this in Basic.

I could keep going for hours if I needed to, but, if I relaxed too much I'd pass out, which was a feature of my state, not a bug, allowing me to dodge questions as my subconscious finished adapting to my new form. "You're okay, right?" I asked her, just to check.

"Of course I'm okay! I was nowhere near-" she started to respond, before looking back and commanding the guard, "Get a doctor like I told you to!"

The uniformed man walked over, "My partner's getting one now, miss. We needed to make sure it was safe for you. With who you're family is. . ." he trailed off.

The girl's outraged expression was adorable, or maybe that was the concussion talking, and I put a hand on her shoulder, Caitlyn's attention snapping back to me as I looked at the guard with a grateful smile. "Thanks, and I completely understand. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna take a little nap."

Letting go of my focus, darkness started to crowd in on my vision as the blue-haired girl called my new name, and consciousness faded. With the guards here, I wasn't getting away until I talked to the people in charge. I didn't know the timeline that well, but I should have enough to make this entire thing work.

Plan F is a go.

​

I came to as a terrible smell burned my nostrils, a man's voice saying, "Here he is."

Cracking my eyes open, it was mid-afternoon, a good five hours since I'd passed out, and, as I looked around, there were a lot of guards in my apartment.

All told, I felt... not bad.

Blearily glancing about, I slurred a little as I asked, "Caitlyn?"

A woman's answered, older, and with an impressive amount of vocal fry without sounding forced. "Ms. Kiramman has gone home. I know you're injured, but if you could answer some questions?"

I gathered my wits, seeing an Indian woman with graying hair looking at me, an older white man packing up a medical bag. I was shirtless, with a bandage on my chest, another one on my thigh, my pants half-cut off me. "I, sure. Um. Can I put something on?"

She nodded and stepped out, along with the probable doctor, another guard stepping in, watching me. Jayce would've complained about privacy, but I just asked, "Can you get the door?"

He nodded, closing it, watching me carefully as I slowly opened my dresser and pulled out another pair of pants, thankful my underclothing hadn't gotten bloody, and went to put them on, only to realize I was still wearing my shoes. Wincing, I took them off, while the other man still watched, stone-faced, and I took my time getting presentable.

Nodding to the guard, he opened the door and waited for me to leave before following, directing me to a chair set up in the middle of the wreckage of my workshop. The man whispered something to the sheriff, who gave a single nod and turned to me. "We've talked to the others, but if you could tell me what happened? You might have seen something the others missed."

I gave them an accounting, including a vague description of Vi, Powder, and the other two. Guards had chased them for several blocks, so 'older pink haired girl, younger blue haired girl, fat guy, and skinny guy with big hair' wasn't anything they didn't already know. After that, I told them I checked to make sure there wasn't anything left unstable while Caitlyn was gone, and then had sat down, waiting.

"That matches what we know," the older woman nodded, referencing a clipboard. "But that doesn't explain this. There's a few restricted items here, and I don't see any permits. You want to tell me how you got them?"

I almost wanted to flash my Psychic Paper, but it specifically didn't work on geniuses, and, as I talked, I noticed Viktor, the headmaster's assistant, walking around with his cane, looking over the calculations and schematics sketched out on the remains of my chalkboard. That was a man who absolutely qualified. "I was still working out a working theory, and I didn't want to waste the Academy's time, so I asked around. I was careful."

"Apparently not," Viktor noted, turning around. "What happened here?"

"Cascade energy release," I shrugged, which hurt a little. "I was doing Science."

The Sheriff gave me a dry look. "Last time I checked, science didn't require illegal equipment."

"Nor was this approved by the Academy," the crippled man noted, still looking at my notes. "Who authorized your research?"

"Independent study?" I offered with a self-effacing smile, "And, you look familiar, but I don't think we've been introduced."

My response surprised him, his eyes flicking over to me, before he continued taking in the room. "I'm assistant to the Dean of the Academy, who it may serve you to remember is also the head of the Council. He sent me here to ensure that anything dangerous is removed. Safely."

I nodded, pointing to a box on a shelf. "Yeah. Makes sense. I have a few hexite crystals the thieves didn't take." And which I left behind, as having them isn't illegal. The guards around me stilled, looking at the container with worry. "They're fine in their box, just don't take them out and hit them against something."

Viktor nodded. "Good. And, according to my list, I'm to remove you."

I looked up, knowing what he meant, but selling my ignorance as I asked, "You mean, like, move, not, um remove remove, right?"

"Well, that's for the council to decide," the man remarked, which, cold, and the Sheriff taking out a pair of handcuffs didn't help.

"I'm injured, I'm going to be surrounded by guards, and I'd actually like to explain myself. Are those really needed?" I asked.

To my surprise, the woman actually considered that, before putting them back on her belt. "Don't make me regret this, kid," she warned.

Holy shit, that worked? I thought, wishing I could do something to keep her from dying but. . . well, she wasn't who I was here for.

Chapter Two

Sitting in my cell, I was surprised that they'd let me bring a few of my journals and a pen, but I wasn't going to complain. No one was even watching me, though I wasn't foolish enough to go Home, lest someone walk by and see I'd 'escaped', and I'd figured out how to 'dismiss' my phone, letting me make sure it wasn't discovered, as explaining that piece of, comparatively, advanced tech would be even harder than the task that was currently laid before me.

Reviewing Jayce's notes helped me put my new memories in order, and helped me understand exactly what Hextech was. Jayce's Tier, even starting out, made sense now. The man was in good shape, but humans in this world were only a little tougher than normal, and he didn't have any of the fighting ability that normally determined dangerousness, and through that soul intensity, and through that, Tier.

No, what the man had in spades was intelligence.

It felt like I'd gone from driving a sedan to flying a jet, thoughts clicking faster than they ever had before, my previously existing knowledge mixing with the cramming I'd done in Basic Training, and Jayce's own studies, with my capabilities added to his. Basic Training had covered a lot, a knowledge base miles wide and inches deep, to be better applicable in any situation we Agents found ourselves in. And it was voluntary, which meant most people hadn't bothered, but, then again, most people were idiots.

Dealing with the accelerated time chambers had been a bitch on my sleep schedule, but it'd been worth it. A lot of what I'd learned was basic uplift studies, how to create rudimentary gunpowder, power generation, etc. Other parts had been 'magic 101', on the base underpinnings of most eldritch systems, and how to take the first steps within each of them.

On a magically advanced world, things like basic turbines and dynamos could help take you in unexpected directions, that in turn created opportunities that merely being someone powerful would not. On a technologically advanced one, being able to recognize any magic hiding in the shadows and take advantage of it in ways pre-existing paradigms didn't account for could do much the same.

It was that knowledge that let me see just how far Jayce had been able to go, using scavenged glyphs to try and force order onto the inherent instability of raw mana, treading the steps of Mages before, trying not just to walk the path they had, but to make it into a road.

Mages in Runeterra were artists, and artisans, all, their magics highly personal, carrying unique flavors and styles that, while powerful, were not reproducible, not really. Or, at least, that's what Jayce knew, combined with what little I knew of the setting myself, my focus on the events I found myself embroiled within nigh exclusively, and whose culmination would not arrive for nearly a decade. Traditions existed, Magic users able to learn generalities from each other if their inherent talents aligned, but anything like a formal school for Mages didn't exist.

Magic itself was broken up into three categories. Spirit Magic came from the Spirit World, as the name suggested, and revolved around mental and emotional concepts. Life, Realities, and how we perceived both were its specialties, and came through places where the veil between the Material World and the Spirit World overlapped and wore each other thin, which was basically all of Not-Asia, I mean 'Ionia'.

Elemental Magic was the most straightforward, the most common, and the most magic-y in the western sense, which, ironically, was most common in Not-South-America, or 'Ixtal', instead of Demacia, which was low-magic Not-Europe. It's focus was Fire, Ice, Light, and so on. If you could throw it around, it was probably Elemental.

Then there was Celestial Magic, the purest, and the rarest, no one knowing its source, and revolved around pure concepts. Creation in particular, but also, Destruction, Eternity, things like that. That was what Jayce had seen as a boy, used by a Mage out of myth and legend, and possibly the only Celestial Magic user around, and that was what he'd tried to replicate, but had been unable to source for obvious reasons. Instead, Jayce had tried to combine Elemental and Spiritual together, believing Celestial Magic to merely be a combination of the two.

To be honest, I had no fucking clue if he was right or not.

But god damn had he tried.

I wished I had access to the rest of the runes, the ones Jayce wasn't able to discover, and only found scattered mention of, or of even completed Hextech devices, but, while finding those would help me recreate them, I wasn't here to recreate, I was here to invent, and explore my own path.

Though that didn't mean I couldn't crib some notes here and there.

The energy matrixes were seemingly arbitrary, and Jayce had done a lot to track down the whys of Spiritual and Elemental Magic, but while he'd found commonalities and patterns when mana was passed through certain runes, the underlying reasons for why that worked at all still escaped him.

It had been teleportation magic that he'd seen, as a boy, so he'd gone after that, trying to replicate it, jumping to a high-level use before a low-level one, but that's what the proto-matrix was, trying to replicate the first working he'd ever seen, the one that'd saved the lives of him and his mother, having realized intrinsically, from merely seeing it once, that it was an opening of the Gate, and a way of saying 'I am here', before turning 'here' into somewhere else entirely.

And he was literally days away from getting it to work.

It wouldn't do anything, mind you, other than a lightshow and a null-gravity effect to keep momentum from getting messed with in the repositioning, but as a proof of concept, it had been, and would be, exactly what I needed.

With a few tweaks here and there, with my glimpse of the base mechanics of the back end of the multiverse that Jayce had spotted, but not understood, instead only able to grasp the expressions on Runeterra proper, a real Genotype/Phenotype situation, I was already sketching out a slightly tweaked proto-matrix that'd do it without the possibility of exploding if you looked at it wrong. The raw Hexite crystal was still going to be a problem, but if I could manage the flow of energy...

A guard stepped in front of my door, unlocking it and holding it open, someone coming down the hall, footsteps loud, only for Dean Heimerdinger to stop and almost comically peer his fuzzy head in the doorway. The three-foot-tall ball of floof, science, and patrician arrogance looked in at me like a Scooby Doo character, overbalancing slightly before catching himself in a display that, given he was over three centuries old, had to be practiced and meant to put me at ease.

Lifting an eyebrow, I blew on the ink and shut my journal, smiling amusedly at his 'antics'. After all, if Jayce's boss's boss's boss's boss wanted to look harmless and adorable, I wasn't going to gainsay him. Kinda undercut the entire 'authority' thing he wielded with an almost careless conceit, but, again, I wasn't going to argue with the de-facto head of the Piltover Council.

"Imprisonment," the Yordle remarked as he walked in, looking around, to the point of spinning fully about, "what a curious principle. We confine the physical body, yet the mind is still free! I do love a good conundrum!" he smiled jovially, and I had to work a little harder to keep myself looking amused back.

For a child, it would be, but while I was not even a tenth this man's age, I was not a child.

"I remember the first time I saw you at the Academy," Professor Heimerdinger remarked, looking over to the plate of prison food I hadn't finished off, barely cooked calamari not really my thing. "You reminded me of myself, a scientist!" he declared, grabbing a bit of tentacle still on a stick, and gesturing with it. "Ready to forge a new vector of experimentation! But sometimes, we venture too far," he remarked to the bit of tentacle, tossing it away as he continued, "No great Science should ever put lives in danger!"

Wow. What a giant crock of shit, I thought, trying to look contrite, even as I could name literally dozens of studies that we did regularly that could put people in danger. Mishandled biological specimens that could bite or sting, mis-constructed mechanical creations that could break and send shrapnel flying, the entire field of chemistry, but this wasn't about Science, this was about one Yordle's irrational fear of Magic. I understood that, intellectually, even if thinking of the centuries old man that way flew in the face of all of Jayce's memories.

"Be honest," the aged floofball questioned, now serious, "what manner of inquiry was this?"

Jayce would've pushed for recognition of his work, his discovery, while aggrandizing himself in the process, but I sighed, and said, "Attempts to study a hither-to obscure type of energy, like heat, force, or electricity. And I've had success."

"You are speaking of Magic," Heimerdinger stated, not allowing me to go off what was very obviously a script he'd formed in his head.

"No," I replied.

"No?" the headmaster questioned, incredulous.

"No," I repeated. "Some might call it that, but some might call lightning 'the spear of the gods', when we know it's," I paused, electrons not a known thing here, "a buildup of charge, observable and re-creatable on a micro scale, and channeled, just as steam, or fire. I'm no more studying 'Magic', than rubbing your feet on carpet and touching metal is casting a 'lightning spell'."

"You..." Heimerdinger trailed off, mind clearly stalling as I did not act like Jayce would've, the man not quiet about his desire to 'harness Magic' before his untimely, if unknown, death. "My boy, you can call it what you like, but you are studying the Arcane," the Dean pronounced, ignoring my points. I thought it would've been too easy to flip him with a single argument, from what little I knew of the man, but I'd had to try, and my throat was still sore from my Song.

Plan H, then.

"The Arcane is dangerous, Jayce" the centuries-old Yordle continued, cute and fluffy persona discarded, now speaking to me as if he was a father warning a child, even using my first name instead of a euphemism to suggest a closeness we did not share. "It is a force of nature. Science... cannot control it."

Like it cannot control electricity, fire, or steam? I thought, but instead asked, "But is it not the point of science to investigate, and understand that which was previously thought uncontrollable?"

Heimerdinger gave me a measuring look, asking instead of answering, "How old are you, my boy?"

So, dodge the question, call me boy, and now I'm no longer 'Jayce'. The old Jayce would've missed it, but the old Jayce, other than a few bad experiences, had a silver spoon so far up his ass I'm surprised his skin didn't turn blue.

"I'm twenty-four," I answered evenly. "As of a few weeks ago."

The Yordle nodded, like that was an answer, compounding the issue by smiling smugly and noting, "Ah! Well I am now three hundred and seven years old. All my life I've pursued the mysteries of Science!" he declared turning his back on me to start to walk towards the door. "Only to discover that some are better left un-solved. This, I'm afraid, is one of them," he stated solemnly, as if his mere word was enough to determine reality. His demeanor then pulled another one-eighty and, with the air of one giving friendly advice, the Yordle practically ordered me to, "Own your mistakes before the Council, admit your work was dangerous, but speak nothing of 'Magic'. Do that and I'll theorize that you'll get away with, how do you say, a slap on the wrist!" he announced joyfully, knocking on the cell door, and being let out before I could say another word.

Holy shit, what an unmitigated asshole, I couldn't help but think, but didn't say, in case the creature could hear me. He came in kindly, but his behavior was all over the place, and trying to figure out the kind of mentality that would fit his rapidly fluctuating moods was... well, what I came up with wasn't good.

Making sure there wasn't a guard watching, I summoned my phone, and considered Social Talent, not for the first time wondering if I should get it. I did have twenty-five points in reserve, and it'd only cost me five which was... too low. Apparently there'd been some problems with my original catalogue, but they'd been fixed before I'd ever gotten to see it, and this Talent... it seemed too good to be true, and it made me nervous.

For a measly five points, it'd let me read a room, spot deceit, pull off deceit, know not only when to talk, but exactly what to say to achieve my ends. It gave fluency of any language, and mastery in a week. It gave, and gave, and gave, and that was what worried me, because that wasn't how the other Talents worked.

Wild Talent was the other exception to that rule, one that both gave survival skills, but also served to de-escalate any situation with 'beasts' that were smaller than me automatically, and gave me the ability to tame beasts so I could ride them and... and I wished I hadn't taken it. If anything, it felt like Siren's Song, a flat ability instead of a learning multiplier, only one that I couldn't fully control.

It hadn't kicked in with Heimerdinger, the reason why I only knew because of something Jayce had once read in his studies, that being that Yordles weren't technically terrestrial creatures like humans were, but a sub-type of Spirit. However, I could feel Wild Talent hanging off me, at the edge of my perception, just waiting for a creature to subdue, sapience be damned. Siren's Song was low-level Mind Control, but it was one that I controlled, that I could be careful with, while Wild Talent was almost, well, wild, and I wasn't looking forward to meeting any Felyne equivalents that might exist here, the humanoid cats from Monster Hunter surely ticking off the dual boxes of 'beast' and 'smaller than me'.

And the knowledge aspect of Wild Talent was a little more all encompassing than just a downloaded encyclopedia as well, and even that felt... odd. From its wording Social Talent would be that, but for people, and was the kind of crutch that, with my own difficulties with getting along with others, I had a feeling I'd come to rely on far too much, assuming that the Talent didn't, in turn, somehow Master me.

No, it was my own understanding of how people worked that I was working with, and, when applied to Heimerdinger, the model I could construct spoke of a deeply seated arrogance, and one more inclined to Scientism than actual Science, where the 'scientist' took the place of the preacher, the 'Academy' the place of the Church, and, accordingly, the 'Dean', the Pope.

Science was all about questioning, about testing, about disproving previously understood fact. To declare that one couldn't test, that the foundational check upon which all of Science rested wasn't allowed on certain topics, not merely restricted to only doing so safely, but outright forbidden, would be akin to declaring that a book of the Bible could not be read by the believers, but trust us, this is what it says.

No, the Yordle had walked in, informed me that something was impossible to understand, so don't try, and walked out like he hadn't just spat on everything he was supposed to believe in.

Because whatever that had been hadn't been rational inquiry, it'd been rationalization.

But, just like a Vulcan believed they could never be emotional, Heimerdinger was so certain in his own 'Science' that even a single contradiction being pointed out was ignored, because he was experienced, and he was smart, so obviously he knew everything.

It would've been hilariously stereotypical if it wasn't so sad, and Death's words came back to me. About how the powerful became repetitive, and thus uninteresting.

When I'm that age, I'll make sure I have someone who can call me out, and I'll give the benefit of the doubt to them at least to not dismiss it, I resolved, though, of course, time would tell if I could make good on that.

Until then, I had until tomorrow to plan. Both my newest invention, and how I'd get the chance to make it.

​

Violet faced against the training bot, dodging blows and sinking her own into the faceplate, which Powder had obligingly painted with Mylo's mug. She slammed it again, causing it to spin once more, but her heart wasn't in it. She barely dodged one of its thrusts, backing off as the timer rang, and she stepped back fully.

It all came back to that stupid job.

It'd been a good idea, and she still wasn't sure what'd gone wrong. Mylo blamed Powder, but Mylo always blamed Powder, even when Violet's sister hadn't done anything wrong. Which was a third of the time. Half, at most. She knew what explosives looked like, everyone in the undercity did, but there hadn't been any of them in the flat.

Hell, the entire thing read as 'rich nerd', not 'mad bomber'. It was the kind of payday that could not only set them up for a year, but even help pay back Vander for taking in and taking care of the four of them.

And Powder had thrown it into the bay.

Which. . . which was her fault, not Powder's. She was the one in charge. She was the one who should've kept Powder safe. And she'd failed. But... but that wasn't what wouldn't leave her mind.

No, it was the Topsider.

He'd been hurt, way worse than any of them, she wasn't sure how he was even standing. But he hadn't cared about that. No, he'd been worried about them. About her. His words still rattled around in her head, trying to get them to safety when the building started to collapse. Then, not angry, but concerned, caring. As if he could talk the guards out of beating the shit out of them just for being there, or worse, if they got caught.

He'd recognized them, that was clear. He'd been in the Underside, him seeing them around wasn't impossible. Ekko'd been the one to track him all the way up, after he hadn't even bothered to haggle. And he'd had to have known they were Undersiders.

When it came to Undersiders, Topsiders weren't supposed to care.

Confused, she'd get. She'd been confused. Even angry, they'd just robbed him and blown up his house. But he'd asked if she was okay. If Powder was okay. And Claggor, and even Mylo. Which was just proof that he didn't know them, as if he had he'd've been happy that loudmouth got knocked on his ass.

And that dumbass, who'd been bleeding from every hole, had stumbled in. To a building that was falling apart. To make sure they were okay.

... She hoped he was still alive.

"Hey," she called to the others, "You don't think the guy from the flat's dead, do you?"

Mylo shrugged, trying to line up a shot on Powder's range. He missed, as usual. "He did look pretty bad. And it'd explain why the Enforcers got a bug up their butt 'bout us."

From his position against the wall, Claggor frowned. "Vander would've told us if they wanted us for murder."

"It wasn't murder!" Powder almost yelped, out of sight and in the guts of her range. "I, I mean it wasn't us. And he was alive. Right? Right Vi?" she asked, peering around the corner, turning big blue eyes Violet's way.

"The guards were right outside," their leader said, more to herself than them. "And I heard him tell someone else to stand back. They would've gotten him help."

Mylo scoffed, "With a rich place like that, he's probably fine. Chilling in luxury while we're stuck here in this dump."

"Vander said to lay low," Violet reminded the idiotic boy. "Enforcers never come down here, so this place is as good as any."

Claggor took the moment to taunt Mylo, and she listened, but only with half an ear. Slipping off her gloves, she rubbed her hands. Going several rounds with the practice dummy had been rough on her already split knuckles. But, as Vander said, you didn't get strong without a little pain. Just as long as it had a point.

"Hey guys?" Powder questioned, and Violet glanced over. "You should see-"

Which was when someone was tossed through the stained-glass window separating them from the street, and the enforcers.

And things got interesting again.

Chapter Three

"I expected you to be more nervous," the Sheriff remarked, as the lift rose.

"I made a mistake, but not one born of malice," I replied easily, handcuffed, as per protocol, which I hadn't objected to. "And other than some property damage, no one was hurt." The woman gave me a skeptical look, my injuries clearing up fast, but not supernaturally so, at least, on the surface. "I don't count. If anything, I'm already being punished for having my apartment broken into."

The older woman digested that, remarking, "Councilor Heimerdinger talked to you. Did he give you advice?" I nodded. "Follow it," she suggested. "The Council might not see things your way. But they will follow his lead."

Again, I was surprised by the help from an unexpected source, and this time, could not let it pass by. "You're going after the ones that stole from me?" I asked, and it was her turn to nod. "Be. . . be careful," I warned, and her mild look turned sharp. "I've heard some things down there, about a combat drug. Not my field of research, so I didn't look into it, but if you're pushing them..."

For a moment, there was only the sound of the rising elevator, the bell chiming, and then the Sheriff murmured, "I'll warn my men."

It's not your men I'm concerned about, I thought, but that was all the help I could afford to give her right now. She unlocked my cuffs and gestured me forward, and I started walking, back straight, but not stiff. Even if things went really bad, well, good luck keeping me in prison, though that was plan W, and I really hoped I didn't need it.

As I entered the Council Chamber, large metal shutters covered every window, timed so that, when I arrived at the center of the space, the Council seated all around me, the only light was from a window directly over me, until it, too, closed, plunging the room into darkness.

... Someone's trying too hard.

"Jayce Talis," Mel called, the daughter of a Noxian Warlord, exiled for her predilection for diplomacy and understanding over bloodshed, and one of those most predisposed to back me, at least as long as I offered her something 'new'. With a loud click, the shudders moved back a single setting, opening up the very top, and allowing a single shaft of light to shine down directly on me, going back to what it'd been several seconds ago.

So hard.

"You are accused of illegal experimentation, and endangering the citizens of Piltover," Mel continued. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

I looked around at the council. The blond was a dandy, and an opportunist, but I repeated myself. The fat man was an idiot, and only concerned with his own profit. The black bald woman with the odd gear neckpiece, like the most complicated bear trap about to snap shut on her head, and the fully covered thin man, who was likely non-human, I knew nothing about. To the center was Heimerdinger, to his right was Mel, and to his far right, past gear-neck, was Mrs. Kiramman, Jayce's patron, who would push for leniency unless I went stark raving mad, if only to make herself look reasonable, though, from Jayce's memories, the woman was actually a good person.

So, two guaranteed to at least keep me out of prison, one if I made him money, one I was on the fence about, one that'd fold if the others went with me, and two that were unknowns.

I could work with this.

"I have to say that I did not fully comprehend the dangers of the materials that I was working with. I had been extremely careful with them for several months, and it was only when thieves, children unknowing of the danger of the items they broke locks to get access to, handled them carelessly, that there was an issue," I stated, not denying the charges, but putting context to them. "I also now know that what I did was against Academy regulations, only thinking at the time the equipment I needed was rare, not that those items were outright illegal to possess. I thought that, with a working prototype, I would receive Academy space for my research, and was striving to create one, to present to Councilman Heimerdinger."

I hesitated, only having so much oomph, so I'd need to portion it out carefully. "I hope that I will receive the Council's forgiveness, and that The Council will allow me to continue to pursue my studies, that I believe will be extremely profitable for all of Piltover."

Yeah, there's that burn, I thought, looking around at the carefully neutral stares around me, my words supernaturally compelling, not outright mind control, but most of these people didn't know me, and the ability wasn't that powerful. Trying to get a better handle on how much I could press it, I was silent as Mrs. Kiramman spoke up for me, stating, "As Jayce's Patron of many years, I can speak for his character. I believe that one day, he will be a great contributor to our society."

Fat man, however, scoffed, "He destroyed a building! Is this the sort of 'contribution' we can expect?"

"If you were a scientist you'd know you can't make a prototype without breaking a few wrenches!" Heimerdinger chided, chuckling at the end, scoring worthless points while the petty, overweight idiot glared at me as if I'd been the one to talk down to him instead.

"Also," I stated, "the explosion was incidental. Can I assume the councilman has, within his manor, an armory, if not for yourself, then for your security?"

"I do," the man replied, as if it were insulting of me to even ask. "Are you saying you're making weapons?"

I shook my head, "Not at all, it is only the easiest example, but any flammable storage, be it fuel or cooking oil, would suffice. In this case, hypothetically, if thieves broke in while you were away, and your guards were not on edge because you were safely elsewhere, and if those thieves, in their stupidity, they are attempting to rob you after all in this hypothetical, lit up a pipe in the armory, and set your powder reserve alight, would the others here call you to task for 'destroying a building'."

"Of course not! And it would be my own house!" the man replied, incensed.

"Exactly," I smiled, "I'm glad we both understand. And in this case, it was my residence as well. I thought a top-floor apartment in Greenwind Heights would be safe from burglary by those that live below, but that, too, was an error of mine."

"Well, it should've been," the dandy remarked with a frown, the fat man nodding in agreement.

Mel spoke next, a definitively amused tone in her voice. "Do you have anything to show for your work besides an explosion?"

"Academically, yes, but from a practical perspective, not yet," I answered her easily. "I'd say I'm only 'days away', but, if I'm being honest, the prototype is a few weeks from stable activation, two months at most," I revealed, thinking I could probably make it work in about ten minutes if I was really pressed, already knowing the issue that'd held Jayce back before. One that was born, ironically, of caution. "The very explosion that brought my studies to the Council's attention was what I had been moving slowly to avoid, lacking a true lab, and mindful of any deleterious effects my experimentation might have on the people of Piltover."

Which was absolute bullshit, as Jayce would've risked an explosion if he thought he could make it work, not even considering a high-end harmonization instead of a gradual buildup, but with the most... extreme of my notes back Home, as well as the finnickier devices, no one would be able to tell the difference.

"So you're saying you have nothing to show for it," Mel noted, obviously needling me. For a worried young inventor, it would've provoked him, but I knew Jayce had been right, so didn't require the validation.

"I have reams of notes and scientific discoveries about a hitherto misunderstood energy source," I replied evenly, "But, as I said, nothing practical. Yet."

The covered man was next. "Energy source?" he asked, asthmatic voice sounding like it was passed through a synthesizer, almost gasping for breath every few words. "What energy source, would this be?"

"Hexite, the stone that created the explosion," I explained, even as Heimerdinger gave me a warning look. "It is a natural storer of exotic energy. Unregulated, it's as dangerous as black powder, or other storers of chemical energy, but, harnessed, it should allow for a great many things."

Mel gave me a skeptical look. "And you've only recently discovered this 'new form of energy'."

"I've only just learned how to manipulate and regulate it," I answered her, "and I believe I am the first to do so reliably. The same way that electricity was once just 'lightning', but now lights our streets at night. In the wild, it was mysterious, and thought to be something unknowable, but now dynamos turn the force of a stream into something far more than mere motion."

"And this force in the wild," she pressed, "what would it be?"

I hesitated, doing my best to keep to the word of Heimerdinger's command, while readily violating its spirit, but I really didn't know what the Yordle expected. "I do not believe that its wild form matters to my studies, as it would not be used in that way, nor could I even if I wanted to."

The fat man laughed scornfully, "I think that's up for us to decide, boy!"

"I have been directed not to name its source by a member of this Council," I replied evenly, which cast the metaphorical cat amongst the pigeons, as several of them looked to each other trying to figure out who it was.

Behind me, in the court, a sea of whispers sprang up, as now there was intrigue, the lifeblood of the elite class. Looking to the Dean, he wasn't happy, but he wasn't exactly angry either, and I gave a minute shrug, to show that I had tried. The others missed it, but Mel caught the gesture, turning her gaze towards the Yordle, who sighed, and uttered a single word.

"Magic."

And a silence stretched over the room, the dandy's chomping of a nut suddenly loud, the blond man looking both shocked and a little panicked at what was obviously supposed to be a hidden motion now broadcast to the court.

"Magic?" the fat man questioned, as if the very concept was absurd.

Gear-neck, who I now noted wore metal talons on each finger, tapped them on the table, noting, "Magic talents are something you are born with." Or pick up for about fifteen points, I added internally. "They can't be... fabricated."

I nodded, "That has been the common consensus, yes. But science is about challenging common consensus, and I believe it is possible, with a working prototype, in a few weeks."

Mel, now thoroughly interested, looked around the circular, gear-shaped table, asking, "Has anyone even tried it before?"

Robo-voice spoke again, declaring, "The Arcane, is the curse, of our world. My race, was nearly destroyed by it."

"Which is why I'm not studying the Arcane," I answered easily. "I'm no Mage," yet, "and even if I somehow could use Magic, Magic isn't what I'm trying to create."

"Then what are you trying to create?" Mel inquired.

"Technology that utilizes Mana, the raw stuff that Mages also call upon, but without the Mages themselves," I explained. "The Arcane is just that, Arcane, mysterious and secret, but Mana is an energy just like light, heat, force, or lightning, and naturally occurs in Hexite. Technology using Hexite, Hextech, if you will, could be the next great discovery. And isn't it fitting that here in Piltover, the city of Discovery, the city built to be a safe place from Mages, is where we discover how to utilize the same raw energy that has, for centuries, been solely theirs to lord over us? Fitting that we could take that away from them, and for ourselves, as well?"

"Jayce, enough," Heimerdinger commanded, and I focused on him, needing to push him just that little bit further, having rejiggered my prepared speech segments to take advantage of Death's advice.

"Sir, with all due respect, I do not understand the problem," I told him, trying to sound as honest as I could. "I have studied Mages, more than most, to try and ferret out the factor they had in common, and tap into that. Many of them have been monstrous, but one does not need Magic for that, and some of their Magics were the stuff of nightmares, I'll easily agree, but that's not what I'm trying to create."

"I said, enough!" the Yordle repeated, not yelling, but very much not happy. He glared at me, but I just looked back in incomprehension, waiting for him to go the way I thought, and the way I had planned for.

After his previous discussion with me, and what little I knew of the centuries old man's character, I'd noted that he worked off of old scripts, because that was easier than investing the effort to create new statements each time. "You don't understand what's at stake," Heimerdinger declared, which was him literally agreeing with me, something I could see I wasn't alone in thinking, from the confused looks on the faces of a few of the other Councilors. "But how could you?" the Dean sighed, gaze turning introspective. "That's a burden that only I here carry. Time."

Speaking from a place of caring, but also of what he believed to be unimpeachable authority, the small Spirit declared, "I have seen this power in the wrong hands. It corrupts. Consumes. Lays waste to civilizations. That cannot happen here, my boy. It must not."

Hook, line, and Heimersinker.

"I completely agree," I nodded solemnly, the looks of the Council which had started to form into stoic agreement themselves, were suddenly thrown into confusion once more.

Even the Yordle was bewildered. "You, you do?"

"Yes," I stressed. "I can understand the Council's confusion, as all they have seen was an unfinished creation being broken before safeties could be devised, but the reason it took me years to get this far is that I have spent a good chunk of that time studying every history, record, biography, and study of Mages in the Academy's library, and through them Magic and Mana. I examined every piece of evidence I could get my hands on, not just to understand how they did what they did, but also why it keeps going wrong." Which was absolute bullshit as Jayce had just greedily wanted what the Mages had, but having gone through his memories last night, even tinged with his own emotions and perceptions, I saw things he did not, which paired nicely with a couple safety seminars from Basic, which were also meant to sell us on purchasing Defenses, but no less valid for them. "And, I think I know why."

"Why?" Mel questioned, interested almost to the point of being entranced, and I could kiss the woman for being such a great straight man, my own 'patron' merely watching in silent amazement, but also ready to cut me loose if need be, now that I was delving into unknown and dangerous waters, to avoid being dragged in herself, not that I blamed her.

"Because, Councilman Heimerdinger is correct that directly controlling raw mana is corruptive," I revealed, talking a bit out of my ass, but my scattered memories of the setting, as well as Jayce's studies, seemed to back me up. "Through whatever organ, be it physical or meta-physical, that they access Mana and turn it into their personal brand of Magic, it is not only the Mana that is affected, but the Mage themselves as well."

I opened my hands to further the point, "Time and again, the pattern emerges, far past the point of coincidence. Fire Mages are known for their fiery passions, Ice Mages their cold indifference, Light Mages their honesty but also for being harsh beyond reason, Earth Mages their stubborn and intractable attitudes, Nature Mages their being not just in tune with the natural world but seemingly a part of it beyond what is natural, the Dark Mages are nightmares given flesh, and the only exceptions to all of them seem to be those who are too weak to wield their Magic regularly, or are young, and it happens so consistently that there must be a reason for it."

Most of the others were nodding, but not gear-neck, who incredulously questioned, "And you would have us wield it?"

Playing my reaction up just a little, I visibly recoiled, "What? No! Do you literally hold fire in your hand when you light a forge? Of course you don't! You use a tool to keep the flame from burning your flesh." I made a slight show of collecting myself, apologizing, "I'm sorry Councilor, Hextech is new enough, and a hard enough shift from the paradigms this world has been subjected to since recorded history began, that some confusion is not only understandable, but to be expected." Which, in turn, made the fat man preen as he pretended that he understood what I was talking about, despite being obviously more lost than any of the others.

"No," I stated, "I have seen what Mages do, what power wielded not by those with the experience," I nodded to Heimerdinger and robo-man, "the skill," which was the safest quality, so I nodded to the fat man, the dandy, and gear-neck, "and the empathy," I stated, looking to Mel, and Mrs. Kiramman, "needed to use it responsibly, and that is without the corruptive effects of Magic use that could compromise those needed traits."

"And which of those traits do you have?" Mel questioned, trying to pin down the source of my own arrogance, but I knew my own failings.

"None of them," I smiled, "I would like to believe that I have a bit of skill, and am empathetic, but I know I haven't been tested, like those on the Council have," that you know of, "which is why I am an inventor, if a gifted one, and you seven are the ones who rightly rule Piltover. You already wield the power of the Academy's inventions, which have made this city prosperous; I am only seeking to add to that."

It was a safe bet, playing to their egos, and it was one I could see paying off, though the cannier among them, Mel first and foremost, were still skeptical. The woman, ever aggressive, in her own way, continued her interrogation, the others seeing fit to watch as the dark-skinned woman asked, "But what do you get from this?"

"Personally?" I asked in turn, and she nodded. "Prestige, Profit, and the knowledge that-" I cut myself off before I could say 'That I made it by bettering the lives of others', as that would, however rightly, suggest that the Council might not have. "The knowledge that I've made a lasting contribution to the city that took in me and my family when we most needed it," I glanced to Mrs. Kiramman significantly, and she smiled back, nodding. "I am not a Mage, with their lust for personal power, whatever the cost to the common man. I seek to help everyone, poor and rich alike, a rising tide that lifts all boats."

Robo-man, I really needed to learn their names after this, spoke up next. "And you think, you can master, the Arcane? And you think, you are not, arrogant? To bend, such things, to your will?"

They're still not getting it, I thought, with annoyance, though I didn't show it, yet I did not let the attack, and it was an attack, go unanswered, having expected such might happen. "Perhaps you're right," I offered, to the Council's surprise.

"Such arrogance, like the arrogance to claim the bones of the earth, refine them, and to master them, to make mountains of our own, all the grander for our efforts." I tapped the floor meaningfully, indicating the tower we stood in.

"To master the waters, to move them as we wished, to pluck a ship from one sea, and move them to another," I turned in the direction of the Sun Gates, this world's Panama Canal, and the source of much of Piltover's wealth.

"To master the skies, to traverse them in ships that ride the wind instead of the waves." Another turn, to look in the direction of the city's skyport. "But the question, Councilor, is what makes you think I'll be doing this alone?"

Mel leaned forward. "It would be your discovery. Most would say it would be yours to do with as you pleased."

"Then most would be wrong," I replied easily, waving to the Yordle who sat at the center of the table, a bit of theatre that didn't go unmissed. "I do not believe it to be coincidence that one of the Founders of our city, one based on cooperation, progress, and teamwork, is not only the one who founded the Academy, but is its Dean to this day, having guided it for decade upon decade. Discoveries can be abused, and easily at that, but so can everything, from swords, to relationships, to trade, in the hands of those with ill intent."

I visibly hesitated, stopping interruption and causing the others to wonder what I was going to say next. "I was going to wait until after, to discuss this with Dean Heimerdinger personally, but I believe it might help put some concerns to rest," I lied, the plan always to mention it here. "But my experience these last two days has shown me the need for oversight. If I had a Mage's arrogance, I'd suggest that I should be working under no one less than Cecil B. Heimerdinger himself! But, while I know my work has great potential, I am not so hubristic as to believe that I should monopolize such a busy, and powerful, person's time. No, instead, I propose working under his assistant," I turned, and pointed at the person in question, in the crowd behind us, "Viktor."

The crippled man, who had been staring, froze, eyes widening, as the entire Council regarded him, and I continued, "He has the experience that I lack, and would know the ways in which Councilor Heimerdinger operates, so would be well suited to help me avoid any further issue. However talented I may be, I am only one man, and I know that I will miss things, overlook possibilities, that another perspective would discern where I would not. And, with his oversight, he could act to make sure that Hextech would be safe."

"And you, you would listen to him?" Heimerdinger questioned disbelievingly. "When you did not listen to me?"

"When did I do that?" I shot back, acting hurt as the Councilors looked at me, several seemed affronted that either I would dare disobey a member of the council, that I would try and trick them, or both. "You instructed me not to name the form Mana usage had hitherto taken, and I did not. And your statement that Mana was not to be studied, sir, was something that you made with no knowledge of my discoveries, and seemingly without basis, likely, as the other Councilor assumed, due to a misunderstanding of the mental contagion effects of direct usage, and one we could not discuss, because you left seconds after making it."

"It is dangerous," the Yordle stressed.

I nodded, uncomprehendingly. "Yes, it is, just as fire is, just as steam is, just as flight is. Should we put out our boilers, because over-stressed ones explode? Should we ground our airships, because a punctured bladder could cause a crash? Never cook, because a kitchen fire, out of control, can burn down a house?"

"But we understand those things," The Dean of the Academy shot back. "We do not understand the Arcane!"

"I think," Mel noted with wry amusement, "that is the point of Mr. Talis' studies." She turned to me. "If you had no care for safety, only proving your tech was possible, how long ago could you have developed your prototype?"

Again, this woman. "Fourteen months ago," I answered without missing a beat, which would be true of a 'I can do stuff with magic' model, not what Jayce had been trying to create, which was recreating step one of an extremely advanced spell. "Fumbling in the dark is far easier than mapping unknown territory, but also makes it easier to fall off a cliff. However, with more eyes, provided they understand what they're looking at, it becomes far easier. I ask, please, allow me to continue my studies under Viktor, and you will not regret it. A rising tide will lift all ships, bringing the poor up out of the poverty they suffer in, but also bringing the elites to heights you have only dreamed of."

"Studying Magic, whatever you may call it, is a violation of our Ethos," Heimerdinger stated, the man resistant to my Song, as, ironically, a being of Magic himself. "While that would normally require banishment from Piltover, I can sympathize with a young man's dream to change the world. I propose a lesser punishment, that Jayce be summarily expelled from the Academy, and remanded to the care of his parents," the little shit stated, as if he was doing me a service, quickly looking around as I opened my mouth to respond, "All those in favor?" he demanded before I could speak, instantly raising his hand, the shutters above moving to cast light down upon him.

But I wasn't done, looking around myself, and while my throat was raw, I had one last refrain, a coda of sorts, "Please, do not ignore the good that could be done for Piltover, and its people, because of one being's misunderstanding and fear. This city was built on discovery, cooperation, and progress, and that is what I offer, nothing more, and nothing less."

The Yordle glared at me. "A vote has been called, young man, and the time for debate is over!"

Ah yes, the stance of the 'Scientist' was that the matter was settled, never to be questioned, and no debate was left to have. It was all I could do not to sneer at the spirit pretending to be a mortal, a being of magic that reserved such things only for itself, as I tasted copper from my overstressed voice.

Robot man lifted a hand as well, another shaft of light falling down, but there was a long moment, where no one else moved.

Holy shit, did I do it? I wondered, keeping my expression schooled.

"What?" Heimerdinger asked, turning first a shocked expression on the others, then a glare. "But, he, he has violated the Ethos!"

I'm sorry, I thought 'the time for debate was over', I thought, scornfully, keeping my expression trepidatious but vaguely hopeful. Or does that only apply when you think you've won?

Mel, however, did not stop her study of me. "He has explained that he has done no Magic. Not even a prototype. Hmm, I propose we humor this Jayce Talis, and see where he goes. Give him an Academy lab, with the oversight of your assistant, and... six months. If he has produced nothing, we shall meet again, and I will support your decision, Councilor Heimerdinger. But if he's right, we would be fools to ignore such an opportunity. And we are not fools. I propose a new vote," she stated, with a gesture to the side, plunging the Yordle and the covered being into darkness.

Head high, still staring at me, and smiling slightly, she formally stated, "All those in favor of giving this talented young man, who claims he embodies our ideals, one last chance to prove he truly does?" Almost lazily, she raised her hand, a light coming down on her head. Mrs. Kiramman followed suit, as well as the gear-necked woman a moment later. Mel shot the fat-man a look, and he lifted a hand in turn, a moment later followed by the Dandy.

One more than I needed, I thought, as Mel nodded announcing, "The motion carries."

Looking to her, as the shutters started to pull back, light returning to the room, I asked, voice raw, confused about one thing, "Six months?"

The warlord's daughter laughed, "I'm sadly used to men over-promising and under-delivering. I trust that much will be sufficient?" Not trusting myself not to cough up blood again, which would set off some... inquiries, I merely nodded.

"Good," Mel smiled. "I look forward to your hopefully long and fruitful career, Jayce Talis."