Jonathan inhaled, in anticipation. Beside him, Jayce stared down at the floor—probably contemplating his terrible luck.
Just then, the elevator lurched to a stop.
The doors slid open with a heavy clang.
Grayson gave them both a firm push forward.
Jayce and Jonathan walked side by side.
They passed through the marble corridor as murmurs echoed from both sides—crowds watching, whispering.
As they stepped closer to the center of the chamber, the ceiling above them sealed shut with a deep mechanical whir.
The mirrored walls darkened—veiled in shade.
At last, they stopped in the center of the room.
The Council in a circle around them.
The room dimmed further.
Then—
"Jayce Talis," Cassandra's voice rang out, cold and formal.
A light snapped on—illuminating Jayce.
He flinched slightly in the sudden light, eyes flicking upward.
"And Jonathan Krueger," she continued.
Another light, landing on Jonathan.
He stood still, blinking into the brightness.
"You are both accused of illegal experimentation and endangering the citizens of Piltover," Cassandra declared, her voice echoing in the silent chamber.
The Council watched them in judgment, faces unreadable in the dim light.
"What do you have to say for yourselves?" she asked.
Jayce spoke first.
"The materials were far more dangerous than I was aware of," he began, voice low and steady. "And I… I now understand that my actions violated Academy regulations."
Jonathan looked away, gazewandering around as Jayce continued his confession.
"What I did endangered people. It was reckless," Jayce admitted. "And for that, I'm sorry. I ask the Council's forgiveness… and hope that I can continue my studies."
Jonathan thought it was boring.
Cassandra lifted her chin slightly.
"As Jayce's patron of many years," she said, "I can speak for his character. I believe that one day, he will be a great contributor to our society"
A pause followed—tense.
Then another councilor leaned forward, voice sharp.
"He destroyed a building."
His eyes bore into Cassandra.
"You may vouch for Jayce's character. But what of his partner?"
They turned to the middle of the room.
"Can you say the same of him?"
"Jayce asked for forgiveness." The councilor's gaze narrowed. "he hasn't even spoken. He doesn't even look like he's paying attention."
Jonathan slowly turned his head, eyes meeting the councilor's.
"I'm paying attention," he said calmly. "At least—as much as I can."
He took a breath, glanced down, then back up.
"I'm sorry. I really am. But I can't give speeches like Jayce."
The councilor raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"
Jonathan tilted his head slightly. "Because I'm from the Undercity," he said. "My words will seem paltry to those of Jayce."
A pause.
"My apology won't sound genuine," Jonathan said, steady but blunt. "It won't impress anyone. And I doubt it'll change what you think of me."
He let the silence stretch for a moment before adding, softer:
"We saw a chance to help. That's all it was. The possibility of this…" He gestured vaguely. "It hadn't even crossed our minds."
From her seat, Mel leaned forward slightly. "Do you have anything to show for your work—besides an explosion?"
Jonathan shook his head.
Jayce stepped in, voice tight. "Uh… no. It… it came to nothing."
"So you're saying your study was meaningless?" Mel asked.
"It was revolutionary," Jayce blurted, suddenly.
"Revolutionary how?" Mel pressed. "Because from where I'm sitting, all I see are two boys meddling with forces they don't understand."
A councilor leaned in, arms folded. "Seems the Academy has loosened its standards."
"This sets a dangerous precedent," another said. "If we condone this, what's next?"
More voices rose—judging, dismissing, piling on.
Jayce's eyes fell shut. He breathed in, then opened them.
And finally said:
"I was trying to create magic."
The chamber went still.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
"Magic?" one councilor repeated, incredulous.
"Arcane talents are something you're born with," another said sharply. "They can't be fabricated."
"Actually," Jayce spoke up, "I believe it is possible."
Jonathan gave a slow nod beside him.
Mel leaned forward, eyeing them both. "Has anyone even tried it before?"
"The Arcane is a curse," a councilor said, their voice metallic and distorted. "My people were nearly wiped out by it."
Jayce didn't flinch. "But surely we—the pioneers of science—can use it for good. We're the champions of discovery. Why fear it… when we can master it?"
"Jayce, enough," Heimerdinger warned, his voice grave.
Jayce ignored him. "This is the City of Progress! Think of the wonders we could create—"
Jonathan smiled faintly and chimed in, dry as ever:
"Think of the money it will br—"
"Enough!" Heimerdinger's voice boomed, echoing through the chamber.
Silence fell like a curtain.
"You don't understand what's at stake," Heimerdinger said, stepping forward. "But how could you? That burden… is mine alone to carry."
His voice grew heavier.
"Time. I've seen this power in the wrong hands. I've watched it corrupt. Consume. Lay waste to entire civilizations."
He looked directly at Jayce now.
"That cannot happen here, my boy. It must not."
Jayce lowered his gaze, the fire in his chest dimming under the weight of Heimerdinger's words.
"Heimerdinger is right," a councilor said. "Piltover was founded to escape the warmongering of mages—not to cultivate it."
Jonathan stepped forward. "Piltover can change."
He scanned the chamber, frustration flashing in his eyes.
"Piltover was founded to escape? Are you serious?"
He looked from face to face, voice rising.
"Do you want Piltover remembered as the nation that ran away—?"
He stops, composes himself again.
"Or as the nation of progress?"
A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd.
"You can't fear progress," Jonathan said, then turned to the council, his tone sharper, firmer.
"We can't stay afraid forever."
The councilor with the mechanical voice responded coldly.
"It's clear that neither of you intend to change. I say both should be banished from Piltover."
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the chamber.
"Please—let me speak!" a voice called out from the crowd.
Footsteps echoed as an older woman stepped forward.
"As a lower house, my voice may not carry much weight here," she said. "But as a mother, it matters deeply."
She stopped beside the Council's platform, eyes on Jayce.
"My son isn't in his right mind. His entire life, he's chased an impossible dream. What he did was foolish… and unwise."
A pause.
"But he has a good heart. Please—let him come home."
"A crime like this can't be overlooked," a councilor snapped. "The boy must be punished."
"A violation of the Ethos calls for banishment," Heimerdinger said solemnly. "But I can sympathize with Jayce's dream to change the world."
He looked out over the Council.
"Perhaps in this matter… a lesser sentence may suffice for Jayce."
He didn't look at Jonathan.
"I move that Jayce be summarily expelled from the Academy," Heimerdinger said, "and remanded to the care of his parents."
He looked to the other council members.
"All those in favor?"
He raised his hand.
A spotlight illuminated him from above.
Cassandra followed, lifting her hand silently. A light shone on her.
Then Mel raised hers. Another beam.
A moment later, a fourth councilor lifted their hand.
Four of the seven.
The majority.
"You may take your son home, Mrs. Talis," Heimerdinger said, turning to her gently.
"But he is never to set foot on Academy grounds again."
Jayce turned, hesitating just a moment. He glanced back at Jonathan.
"Be careful," he said quietly.
Jonathan gave a small nod.
Jayce stepped down and joined his mother.
But instead of leaving, they moved to the side of the chamber, disappearing into the gathered crowd.
He turned back once, just enough to keep Jonathan in sight.
Now it was Jonathan's trial.
And everyone was watching.
The councilors slowly lowered their hands. The lights dimmed.
Jonathan cleared his throat. "Ahem."
He looked up at the council.
"I've got no mother. No house. No place atthe Academy."
A pause. Then he asked plainly:
"So what happens to me?"
"Banishment?" he offered. "Prison?"
Mel leaned forward slightly, eyes still fixed on him, intrigued.
"That will depend… on your case."
"I say we banish him and get it over with," said the councilor with the mechanical voice, his tone cold and final.
Jonathan raised a finger. "Wait… do you hear that?"
Everyone fell silent. No sound.
"Perfect," Jonathan said. "Now I can talk without being interrupted."
He clasped his hands behind his back, shifting into a looser, more casual stance.
"Look—I can stop experimenting with magic," he said. "To be honest, I'm more of a doctor than a scientist."
Cassandra tilted her head. "A doctor?" she echoed. "What are your qualifications?"
Jonathan looked at her plainly. "Prosthetics. I've designed them for your hospitals. I've studied more than you know."
He stepped forward. "But that doesn't change the fact that I experimented with magic."
He paused. Then, with a small grin:
"So—I'll make you an offer."
He glanced around. "Assuming the Council can make deals?"
Mel leaned in slightly, eyes glinting. "Let's hear it."
"Give me and Jayce until the end of today," Jonathan said. "Let us prove it can work."
"And if you can't?" Mel asked.
Jonathan nodded, unwavering.
"Then I'll accept whatever punishment you decide. No complaints."
Murmurs rippled through the chamber.
From the crowd, Jayce looked up—hope flickering across his face.
The councilors leaned in, exchanging hushed words.
Finally, Cassandra spoke.
"I say we accept."
She looked around the chamber.
"At best, it works—and it puts Piltover on the map. At worst… it doesn't. But nothing changes if we do nothing."
A pause.
Then one councilor said sharply,
"Piltover was founded to escape magic, not welcome it. It's a power we don't understand—and may never."
Mel's voice rang out, calm and firm:
"And maybe now, with control and care… it could be what propels Piltover forward."
SLAM!
Heimerdinger's small hand hit the table.
"Magic is dangerous! It's a force we may never fully grasp. In the wrong hands, it—"
Jonathan cut in.
"Wrong hands?" he echoed, tilting his head.
"It won't be in the wrong hands… it'll be in yours."
He turned, slowly taking in each of the councilors.
"The Council is the best of what Piltover has to offer, isn't it?"
A few councilors straightened. One smiled.
Jonathan nodded, gently stroking their egos.
"Who better to oversee its development than the wisest minds in Piltover?"
He stepped forward, voice rising ever so slightly.
"We should stop fearing magic… and conquer it."
.
.
.
He took a breath, exhaled slowly, and said,
"I rest my case."
Silence.
Then—Mel raised her hand. A beam of light illuminated her calmly resolute expression.
Cassandra followed. Another light flared on her, casting long shadows behind her chair.
A third councilor hesitated… then raised their hand. The glow found them too.
And finally—Salo raised his arm. The light snapped on him.
Four.
A majority.
A ripple of murmurs spread through the chamber as the outcome settled in.
Jayce's eyes widened. There's still a chance, he thought.
Mel's voice cut cleanly through the noise.
"Jonathan and Jayce will be escorted to a desolate location—one far from civilians—where you will continue your experiments."
She paused, eyes locking on them.
"Your equipment will be transferred there. You will be supervised. And you have until the end of the day."
Jonathan blinked, then gave a slow, crookedsmile.
Jayce exhaled deeply—relieved, but already tense.
Their fate had changed… but the clock was now ticking.
——————————-
I've always wanted to try green eggs and ham.