Chapter 3: The Only Path Forward
The following weeks felt like a blur.
Every day was the same. Steven woke up, stumbled through his morning routine, and entered the chaotic halls of the Academy, trying to absorb as much as he could. The pressure was suffocating. The professors expected nothing less than perfection from their students, and Steven found himself falling behind more often than not. His classmates seemed to understand hextech instinctively, while he fumbled with every assignment, unable to make sense of the intricate designs and theories.
The Academy was a machine. Everyone here was part of it. Every person had a place a role to fill. And Steven, despite his memories of Earth, was finding it harder and harder to see where he fit in.
Elsie had been patient with him at first, offering guidance when he needed it, but even she seemed to grow distant. He could see it in her eyes she wasn't annoyed with him, but there was something almost... resigned. It was like she was teaching a lost cause. And perhaps she was right.
"Steven, focus," she said one afternoon, her voice soft but firm. They were working on a more complex energy converter, one that required precise measurements and delicate adjustments. "You need to understand the circuitry if you're going to get anywhere."
"I'm trying," he muttered, his fingers trembling as he tried to align the components. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead. "But it's not clicking. It's like... my brain can't catch up."
Elsie paused, looking at him with a faintly sympathetic expression. "Maybe you need more time. You'll get it. Just don't give up."
But Steven wasn't sure if that was enough. He wasn't sure if "getting it" was even possible for him. Every night, he lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to reconcile the gap between his memories of the world he came from and the harsh reality of the one he now found himself in.
...
...
In Piltover, he was just another orphan. An apprentice inventor with no special abilities. No powers like those of the champions he'd watched on Arcane. No background in engineering or any other relevant skills.
And yet... despite the overwhelming sense of doubt, something inside of him refused to give up. A nagging thought that kept resurfacing: If I don't keep going, I'll be swallowed by this world.
Hextech. It was the lifeblood of Piltover. It powered the city, shaped its future, and was the currency of innovation. If Steven didn't figure it out, he was as good as invisible. And yet, every attempt he made to understand it only pushed him further into frustration.
He spent long hours in the Academy's library, pouring over books and journals, trying to make sense of the diagrams and formulas that filled the pages. But nothing clicked. His eyes blurred from reading the same page over and over. The schematics became a tangled mess, lines of code and wire configurations that looked like gibberish.
That's when he began to notice the patterns.
It wasn't in the words or the formulas. It was in the way the machines hummed, the way they moved, the subtle shifts in energy and power flow. It was like the machines were alive, but only in a way that he could understand through the feeling of them.
He could feel it now.
It wasn't just about getting the equations right. It was about understanding how the parts interacted with one another, how they could be synchronized into something greater. And that realization opened something inside him. The more he practiced, the more he focused, the more the designs began to make sense.
Still, there was a gnawing feeling deep inside that reminded him—he wasn't meant for this. He wasn't like the natural-born inventors who thrived in Piltover's environment. But if he wanted to survive, this was his only path forward.
One evening, after a particularly grueling day, Steven found himself alone in the Academy workshop, staring at the half-built energy converter in front of him. His hands were sore, his mind exhausted. Yet, something about the silence in the workshop made him feel like he could finally think clearly.
A breakthrough.
The converter wasn't perfect, but it worked. He connected the last circuit, applied the power flow, and watched in awe as the device flickered to life. It hummed gently, the glow of hextech energy radiating from the core. It wasn't much barely a fraction of what he knew the machines of Piltover were capable of but it was a start.
Steven sank back against the workbench, a rare sense of accomplishment washing over him. He wasn't sure if it would last, or if he could replicate it tomorrow, but for the first time since he arrived in Piltover, he felt like he was making progress.
"I did it," he whispered to himself, disbelief and relief mixed together in his voice.
But even as he stood there, proud of his small victory, doubt crept in. How long would this last? Could he keep up? Was this enough?
I have to keep going, he told himself. I have no choice.
The night stretched on as Steven continued to study, to build, to break down and rebuild. It was exhausting, but it was the only way forward. The more he learned, the more he began to understand the rhythm of this world. It wasn't just about knowledge. It was about adaptation. Understanding the world's pulse and learning how to keep up with it.
Steven wasn't sure where this journey would take him, or if he would ever truly feel like he belonged here. But for now, the only thing that mattered was moving forward one small step at a time.