Chapter 4: A Step Further
The days blurred together in a haze of gears, diagrams, and energy converters.
Steven spent nearly every waking moment in the workshop or the library, his world narrowing to the hum of machines and the endless pursuit of knowledge. It was exhausting, frustrating, but also oddly comforting. The more he studied, the less the uncertainty of his situation seemed to suffocate him. At least here, in the Academy, he could feel like he was doing something.
But every time he looked around, the same thought crept into his mind: I'm not supposed to be here.
He wasn't an inventor. He had no talents, no special skills. He wasn't born into this world with any unique abilities, no tragic past to give him the drive or passion that fueled those who excelled at hextech. He was just a guy from another world, lost and struggling to keep up.
But every time he started to feel defeated, there was something that pulled him back. A flicker of hope. The faintest possibility that if he kept going, he might just find his place in this world.
One late afternoon, after another grueling session in the workshop, Steven was walking back to the dormitory when he noticed something that made him stop in his tracks.
A small crowd had gathered around the central courtyard, murmurs of excitement filling the air. Students were talking animatedly, gesturing toward the large display in the center of the plaza.
Curious, Steven approached cautiously, trying to stay out of sight. The crowd parted as a tall, confident figure stepped into the center, surrounded by a flurry of attendants and admirers.
It was a demonstration. A showcase of some kind.
The figure, a young man, stood proudly before the gathered students. He wore the Academy's prestigious engineering robes, marked with an intricate insignia that gleamed in the sunlight. He was clearly important his presence demanded attention. The crowd hung on his every word as he spoke with an air of confidence that made Steven feel small in comparison.
"Today," the young man's voice rang out, "I will show you the future of hextech innovation. The next great leap in energy transmission."
The crowd gasped. Some students even started to take notes, their eyes wide with awe.
Steven could barely breathe as he watched the young man step aside, revealing a complex device a towering machine of gears and glowing hextech cores, its energy pulsing visibly as it powered up. The crowd's reaction was immediate excitement, admiration, awe.
It was beautiful.
But Steven couldn't help the sinking feeling in his stomach. The machine before him was a marvel of engineering, a feat of design that Steven could never have even dreamed of creating. This was what Piltover was capable of a city built on the shoulders of people like the one standing before the crowd.
I'm nothing like them, Steven thought bitterly. I'll never be like them.
The young man's voice cut through his thoughts. "With this new technology," he continued, "we'll be able to power the entire city. One machine. One innovation. Unlimited possibilities."
The crowd erupted in applause. But Steven felt a sense of distance, as if he was watching from a window, a spectator in a world that wasn't his.
And yet, he couldn't tear his eyes away. There was something intoxicating about the way the young man spoke, the way his every word seemed to captivate the audience. Steven wanted that. He wanted to be that kind of inventor. The kind who could build something that changed the world.
He wanted to stop feeling like an outsider.
...
...
The next few days felt like a wake-up call. Steven couldn't get the image of the demonstration out of his head. The young man's innovation, his charisma it was everything Steven wasn't. The gap between him and the students who excelled at hextech seemed insurmountable.
But then, there was that glimmer again. That voice in the back of his mind that wouldn't let him quit.
What if I could do it too? What if I could create something like that?
The next morning, he found himself back in the workshop, more determined than ever. The small victories the flickering energy converter, the slight understanding he'd gained seemed trivial compared to the massive scale of hextech innovation he'd witnessed in the plaza. But there was no going back now. He had to at least try.
Days turned into weeks, and Steven's focus only sharpened. He spent less time on his assignments and more time pouring over schematics, studying blueprints for more complex machines. He studied the designs from the demonstration, analyzing the energy flow, the way the hextech cores interacted, the structure of the device.
He made mistakes many mistakes but with every failure, he learned more. The workshop became his sanctuary, a place where he could escape the doubt and uncertainty that plagued him outside. Each piece of hextech he built brought him one step closer to the kind of inventor he wanted to be.
It wasn't perfect. He wasn't perfect. But he could see the path before him now. If he could just keep pushing, keep learning, maybe one day, he would create something that could stand alongside the masterpieces of Piltover's greatest minds.
And maybe, just maybe, he would stop feeling like an imposter.
One night, after another long day of work, Steven collapsed into his bed, exhausted but fulfilled. His hands were sore, his body aching, but his mind was alive with possibilities.
As he closed his eyes, a thought lingered: I don't know where this will lead me, but I'm not going to stop trying.