Clutching a thick folder of meticulously arranged notes, Orion stood at the threshold of the Piltover Academy. Its looming columns, carved with intricate floral motifs, and the great brass doors bearing the crest of the city made the boy feel both small and immeasurably excited. Grant and Clara had escorted him here, and though they waited outside near a carriage, Orion could sense their encouragement in every memory of his father's steady gaze and mother's reassuring touch.
Beyond the doors lay a grand foyer: a wide hall bathed in warm lamplight that glinted off polished tile floors. Students of varying ages hurried past, some clutching books, others in animated debate about arcane theories. Professors in long robes threaded the corridors, speaking to colleagues or tutoring advanced pupils. To Orion, it felt like a place of near-limitless possibility—and he was about to present himself before one of its foremost minds.
"Orion, over here," came a familiar voice. He turned to find Lady Kiramman waiting near a marble balustrade, her posture dignified as ever. Today she wore a tailored coat with subtle filigree at the cuffs.
"Lady Kiramman," Orion said, moving to her side. "Thank you for coming. I—well, I appreciate your support."
She gave him a mild smile. "This is a place of scholars, but also of potential. We'll see if Professor Heimerdinger shares my view."
At the mention of the professor's name, Orion felt a tiny thrill of recognition. Heimerdinger was the dean of the Academy, known as much for his eccentric brilliance as for his centuries-long lifespan—an oddity even in this city of progress. Stories described him as a Yordle with a keen mind, credited with some of Piltover's earliest engineering breakthroughs.
Lady Kiramman led Orion through a maze of hallways until they reached a large room lined with shelves of arcane tomes and mechanical diagrams. In the center stood a circular table strewn with prototypes and curious contraptions. The pungent scent of oil and fresh parchment hung in the air.
Standing on a stool at the far side of the table, fussing over a half-disassembled device with a magnifying glass, was Heimerdinger himself. His fluffy white mustache twitched as he muttered to himself.
He glanced up as Orion and Lady Kiramman approached, bright eyes curious. "Oh, you're here!" he exclaimed, setting down the magnifying glass. "Wonderful, wonderful. And you must be Orion."
The boy gave a polite bow, heart thumping. "Yes, sir. It's an honor to meet you."
Heimerdinger hopped down from the stool, brushing his paws together. "Lady Kiramman has told me quite a bit about your mechanical endeavors. I'm told you have a prosthetic arm… powered by something other than steam?"
Orion nodded and carefully unbuckled the harness from his own prosthetic to display it. Despite being in daily use, it still gleamed from countless hours of polishing and calibration. "Yes, sir. I introduced a small electrical generator that takes some of the load off the steam-based mechanisms. It's still not perfect, but it's lighter and more stable than early versions."
Heimerdinger's ears perked up as he examined the device. "Most intriguing. Electrical engineering is still a relatively new field here in Piltover, though I've read many theories and done a bit of dabbling myself. I sense you're pushing boundaries that some might find… unorthodox."
Nerves fluttered in Orion's stomach. "I—I am, Professor. I've also created a wind generator that produces electricity, and I'm working on a new energy source altogether, which I call Energon."
Lady Kiramman chimed in, her voice measured. "Young Orion's innovations are remarkable for his age, Professor. I thought it prudent you see them firsthand."
Heimerdinger beckoned for Orion to follow him to a large workbench lined with instruments for measuring voltage, torque, and other mechanical properties. "Yes, yes, let's see these creations in action, shall we?"
Orion set out the miniature wind generator he'd brought for demonstration—a scaled-down contraption of polished metal blades. He gave the crank a few turns, and the small bulb attached by wires began to glow softly.
"Marvelous!" Heimerdinger said, clasping his tiny hands in delight. "So you harness wind power to rotate these blades, which in turn run a generator coil, correct? Did you incorporate a specialized gear ratio for variable wind speeds?"
"Yes, sir," Orion replied. "I found that a single ratio was too limiting if the wind blew too strongly or too gently. By building in a secondary gear stage, the coil remains relatively stable."
Heimerdinger's whiskers twitched with excitement. "I must say, you've a fine grasp on mechanical engineering. And you're only twelve?"
A mixture of pride and humility touched Orion's expression. "Yes. My parents helped me gather scraps when I was younger, and I just kept tinkering."
The Yordle turned his bright-eyed gaze to Lady Kiramman. "He's quite the prodigy, my lady. I see why you brought him to my attention."
She inclined her head gracefully. "Then perhaps the Academy's doors would not be closed to him?"
Heimerdinger raised a paw as he surveyed Orion. "We mustn't be hasty. The lad's skill is impressive, but the Academy requires a structured curriculum. Students must handle theoretical coursework, cooperative projects, and rigorous examinations. Innovation is encouraged, yes, but not without a foundation in formal knowledge."
Orion swallowed, nerves returning. "I'm willing to learn everything I can. That's all I want, really. To see if my ideas can go beyond my small workshop."
The professor paced around the table, adjusting a lens contraption on his head. "Show me the prosthetic more closely," he said, hopping onto a stool and pointing to a mechanical clamp. "Fasten it here, so I can inspect the pivot points."
With careful hands, Orion set the prosthetic in place. Heimerdinger lifted a magnifier, peering intently at the gears and joints.
"Hmmm… yes, ball-and-socket rotation, cable tension for finger movement… and here, an electrical coil to reduce the mechanical load." He looked up with delight. "This is borderline genius, my boy."
Orion felt warmth bloom in his chest. He shot a grateful smile at Lady Kiramman, who returned the sentiment with a nod.
"Now," Heimerdinger continued, "I must ask: have you tested your inventions extensively? Devised fail-safes for overloading or power surges?"
The question sobered Orion. "I've done as much as I can with limited parts. My wind generator model has had minor surges when the wind picks up suddenly, but I plan to develop a regulator."
Heimerdinger smiled softly. "That's exactly the kind of concern we teach here: anticipating real-world hazards. If you're accepted, you'll have access to advanced tools and mentors who can guide you."
Lady Kiramman leaned in. "Professor, can I assume you see a place for Orion here?"
Heimerdinger tapped his chin in thought. "There are always protocols to follow, my dear. Orion would need an official application, followed by an exam. But given these demonstrations, I'm inclined to offer him a recommendation. If he passes the Academy's standard tests, I'd be honored to have him in my program."
A burst of relieved gratitude flooded Orion's chest. He looked from Heimerdinger to Lady Kiramman, hardly believing his luck. "Thank you. I'll work as hard as I can, sir."
"Good, good," Heimerdinger said, tapping his small foot on the stool. "In the meantime, I'd also like to see your notes on Energon. Even if it's just a concept, I find it helpful to gauge a prospective student's theoretical approach."
Orion opened his folder, extracting a carefully illustrated parchment. Diagrams of molecular bonds, potential energy yields, and some rudimentary magical-laced formulas filled the page. Heimerdinger gave it a cursory scan, occasionally nodding or letting out a contemplative hum.
"Bold," he said at last, returning the paper to Orion. "Infusing technology with a stable, potent energy source would be revolutionary. But also dangerous, if misused."
Orion nodded in earnest agreement. "I wouldn't want it weaponized. My hope is that it could help power medical devices or advanced prosthetics eventually, maybe even benefit people in Zaun who need cheaper energy."
Heimerdinger's ears twitched. "Commendable. The Academy's environment might help refine your theories into something safer—and thoroughly tested."
Lady Kiramman took a measured breath, relief evident in her eyes. "Thank you for your time, Professor. I assume we'll proceed with the standard admissions process?"
Heimerdinger hopped off the stool, hands clasped behind his back. "Yes, yes, of course. I'll see to it that Orion's application gets the attention it deserves. We'll schedule an entrance exam in the coming weeks. In the meantime, Orion, I encourage you to keep refining your prototypes and reading up on theoretical frameworks. Physics, a bit of chemtech basics, you'll need them all."
Orion offered a respectful bow. "I will, sir. Thank you again."
With that, Heimerdinger returned to his contraption on the table, humming thoughtfully to himself about gear tolerances and coil configurations. Lady Kiramman motioned for Orion to follow her out of the workshop.
As they exited into the corridor, Orion felt a whirlwind of excitement. The Academy hall bustled with students, and for a moment, he imagined himself among them—carrying textbooks, discussing theories, perhaps even collaborating on complex devices that might change the face of Piltover. The thought made his heart soar.
"It went well," Lady Kiramman commented, voice calm but tinged with satisfaction.
Orion exhaled, trying to quell the trembling in his hands. "Yes. Better than I expected. I didn't think the dean himself would be so… warm."
Lady Kiramman gave a demure smile. "Heimerdinger is famously passionate about nurturing young talent. You certainly impressed him."
They made their way back to the Academy's entrance, where Grant and Clara anxiously awaited news. At the sight of Orion's broad grin, Clara practically bounded forward, wrapping him in a gentle embrace.
"How did it go?" she asked breathlessly.
A thrilled laugh escaped Orion. "Heimerdinger wants me to apply. He'll put in a recommendation if I pass the entrance exam!"
Grant let out a low whistle, clapping Orion on the shoulder. "That's my boy," he rumbled, eyes shining with pride.
Lady Kiramman observed the reunion with a faint smile of her own. "You've crossed the first hurdle. The Academy exam won't be simple, but if you pour the same energy into it that you poured into your machines, I suspect you'll manage just fine."
Clara brushed a hand through Orion's unruly hair, tears glinting in her eyes. "We'll help you study. Whatever you need."
Orion nodded. The road ahead might be daunting, but he didn't face it alone. He had family, allies, and—most importantly—the first gleam of recognition from Piltover's most revered scientific mind.
As they walked away from the Academy, the city's warm afternoon sun lit the streets in gold. Orion's thoughts churned with an intoxicating blend of ambition and relief. Soon, he would have a chance to stand among some of the brightest minds in Piltover, forging new paths in technology. And Heimerdinger's intrigued smile promised that, if he rose to the challenge, there was no telling just how far his ingenuity might take him.