Chapter Text
Keria weaves through the university’s hallways as fast as his legs can carry him. He steps outside and takes a sharp turn around the corner, narrowly avoiding another student heading the other way.
He skitters to a stop in front of the room, triple-checking the digits on the doorplate with the ones written across his gilded letter. He does believe it’s the right one this time if the voices coming from within it are anything to go by.
So he knocks.
“You can come in,” A familiar voice answers, sending a small wave of excitement through him, “it’s open!”
Keria opens the door, stepping into the classroom—auditorium, he realizes. The circular stands stretch on for ages, forming a large dome of polished wood with intricate, complex carvings, carefully crafted and arranged for the best possible acoustics. There are three figures sitting on the benches, but that’s not where Keria’s attention is drawn.
One man stands on the front platform, his attire reminiscent of the one he’d worn at the expo where they had met last year. The pitch-black fabric is a striking canvas to the golden embroidery and accents on his suit, gleaming with the reflections of the projection behind him. A hextech-powered device sits on the lectern behind which he stands, casting photographs of the world’s divine landmarks; Shurima’s Sun Disc, the peak of Mount Targon, Anivia’s Temple in Freljord.
“Ah, Keria Ryu. Welcome.” Faker Lee nods at him with a small, but warm smile that speaks of trust and respect shared between artists of the same craft, “I'm glad to see you joining us.”
“I'm honored to be here," He replies, closing the door behind him, “Sorry I'm late.”
“Don't worry, I know these academy halls can be confusing, the first time.” His senior student crosses the stand and steps down the stairs, where Keria meets him. As they shake hands, he continues, “You’re welcome to go sit with the others. I'll explain the project for this semester.”
He gestures to the stands, and Keria looks back to the figures he’d spotted when he’d entered. As he examines them more closely, he recognizes a familiar face and freezes.
Two strangers, young students he doesn't recognize, simultaneously lift their hands in the same friendly wave. The bespectacled student tilts his head inquisitively while the taller of the two (Keria feels like he’s seen him before) sends him a tentative smile.
But next to them, in the far left seat, sits the person Keria had hoped to avoid when he transferred here. When they make eye contact, Gumayusi Lee’s face breaks into a wide, toothy grin that seems almost devilish.
✰
“Seriously.” Keria drops down heavily onto the inn’s couch with a groan, “What’s his problem?”
Deft lets out a noncommittal hum as he leafs through his notes, “You’re talking about that Piltover student? The one who won?”
Keria nods, “Yeah, Gumayusi Lee.”
“He seemed promising, though a bit on the arrogant side.” Deft remarks, tapping a pen to his notebook, “You can tell he’s new. His project pitch was very innovative, just too optimistic. In theory, it’s feasible, but he lost a bunch of his points because it’s too risky... too many factors that could go wrong. What did you think?”
Keria has a lot of thoughts on the Piltovan student.
The second-place announcement came as a disappointment to him when he'd poured his heart into his research. He ran countless calculations to understand the precise geometry of the Rakkor's architectural structures. He crafted hextech contraptions of sonars and telescopes to map the towering ridges carved into the mountain rocks like the claw marks of dragons, finding their placements and linking them together like a puzzle.
He visited the Solari temples during solstices and stood at the windows from the sun's rising to its setting to capture its secrets. He kept vigil at the edges of the star springs during nocturnal hours to record its energy readings, brushing the shimmering waters with his fingertips in the hopes it could remedy his lack of sleep.
He'd solved all those equations, connected all the components, and spent countless hours stabilizing his theories into one large thesis, that had yet to cover even a quarter of Tagon's celestial mysteries.
But he should’ve known he needed something more innovative, more ambitious, more out there with his ideas, in order to wow the judges. Theory can only do so much.
His opponent’s work turned out to be the polar opposite of his.
Gumayusi’s section on the panel had been grandiose, an ambitious plan to reconstruct a hextech replica of Shurima's Sun Disc backed by concrete research and theorems. Even as the judges criticized his theories, Gumayusi stood tall, defending himself with a grace expected of older, more experienced academics. And when he finally revealed his proof of concept, a small hextech model of the Sun Disc’s golden arches, complete with a hextech crystal glowing in the center of a golden circlet magnetically suspended in mid-air, it came as no surprise that his presentation concluded with thunderous applause.
When they announced him as the winner of their night’s panels, he bowed as he thanked his professors and colleagues at Piltover’s University, who’d funded his trip to Shurima and provided him with the necessary resources for his research and development. When he straightened up, Keria caught his gaze as he proclaimed his own institution as the best there is.
“It’s grating on my nerves,” Keria growls as he pictures his competitor’s triumphant smirk, “what, does he think all of us other universities are lesser than his?”
“Hey, you did well too.” Deft pats the couch, inviting him to take a seat. “You brought pride to our humble Targonian Academy, didn’t you?”
Keria buries his face in his hand in an attempt to hide his burning cheeks, quietly sitting down next to his mentor.
“Thanks, hyung.”
The older Targonian ruffles his hair affectionately.
“Have you considered joining them?"
Keria blinks, “What?”
“The University of Piltover.” Deft hums, “Faker Lee came to see me to extend an invitation to you. He’s working on more runic hextech next year, you were interested in that, weren’t you?”
Keria blanks right then and there. Half of him feels elated that Faker himself had taken notice of him. The other half…
“Seriously? That school of pompous prats ?” His tone reeks of indignation as he thinks back to Gumayusi's smug expression.
Deft bursts into laughter, “That's one way to put it.”
“Why would I?” Keria asks, still uncomprehending.
“They have more resources than we do, more professors available to you, and a wider field of knowledge. Isn't that good for you?”
“I guess so…” Keria bites his lip, “I don’t know if I’ll fit in…”
“Don’t assume all of them are like Gumayusi.” Deft nudges him teasingly, guessing right away the source of Keria’s apprehension, “I’m sure you’ll find people like you. It would be a good experience.”
Keria sighs at his mentor. He'd always been the voice of reason when his treacherous thoughts tangled with doubt.
“You're right.” He envisions himself exploring the city of progress, studying in well-funded labs, and working with Faker. “I'll go.”
☼
Keria follows with rapt attention as Faker goes through the different pictures, explaining their project's goal; using runic hextech to harness the energy of the Celestial Realm.
If it were anyone else, the idea would sound deranged. It was almost inconceivable to even think to combine old divine artifacts with the volatility of the newly developed runic hextech. But this was Faker , the man whose mastery of runic magic and understanding of hextech revolutionized the technology in recent years.
“I understand this project may seem daunting.” Faker explains after concluding the introduction of his ambitions, “but I have had the chance to review each of your applications.”
The older student sweeps his eyes over his audience of four.
“I chose the four of you because you have potential, skill, and motivation. I believe that if we can work well as a team, together, there is a good chance we can succeed.”
Keria nods, a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins at his senior’s vote of confidence.
“In that case, Zeus.”
The boy sitting on Keria’s left acquiesces with a hum.
“You can work with Oner, seeing as you two are already familiar with each other.” The two students smile and bump fists as Faker continues, “Besides, you’re about the same level of expertise on the basics of hextech and runes.”
Then that means…
Keria’s smile freezes as he computes the logical next step.
“And Keria. I understand you specialize in Targonian runes and architecture. I’ll assign you to Gumayusi, our local Shuriman hextech expert. The runes between those two regions have similar properties I want you to investigate further.”
Well, Keria thinks as he shoots a glance at his now research partner, who sends him a smile just as wide as earlier.
Crap.
—
Once Faker leaves and it’s just the four of them, Gumayusi beckons the rest of them towards the podium.
“How about we introduce ourselves?” He asks once they’re gathered in the front of the class, standing in a circle. “We’ll be working together for at least the next couple of months.”
“Yeah, I’m curious to know what we all do.” The caped student nods, inclining his head, “I can go first, I’m Oner Moon. This is technically my first year in runic sciences.”
Keria shoots him an incredulous look, to which Oner shrugs, “I transferred from divine design. I don’t know, I guess there’s some overlap?”
“Don’t believe what he says.” The other student pipes up. “He’s just an anomaly, transferring between those two departments is unheard of.”
“I’m an anomaly? You’re the anomaly here.” Oner retorts, “Who in the seven hells cruises through half the hextech engineering curriculum in their first year?”
He turns to their two auditors, “Zeus here is the only second-year I’ve ever met who’s three semesters away from graduating, while also taking a minor in runic studies.”
“Because unlike you, I took all my classes knowing what field I want to go into.”
“Oi—”
Keria can’t help but chuckle as the two of them devolve into squabbling, voices getting increasingly loud.
“Well…” Gumayusi interrupts after a minute, expression just as amused, “I can see that you two are already close.”
Zeus lets out a loud guffaw, “Right. Close. We’ll call it that.”
Oner rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, so Keria isn’t inclined to believe any of their argument had any real heat behind it.
“Then, I’ll go next.” Gumayusi claps his hands together, “I’m Gumayusi Lee. I’ve just completed my hextech engineering degree. My thesis was on the hextech adaptation of Shurima’s Sun Disc.”
“I’ve heard,” Zeus hums, “It was impressive, you wouldn’t think of using hextech as a vessel for solar power like that.”
“Lee…” Oner frowns, “The same Lee as Faker’s?”
Gumayusi’s grin widens, “That’s right. He’s my uncle.”
Ah.
Keria blinks in understanding, feeling the sour feeling of his second-place announcement at the expo surge back up like acid reflux. That explains where the funding for his research came from.
Nepotism. Brilliant.
“Well, probably eighth,” Gumayusi admits, scratching the back of his neck, “and twice removed. But I digress. That’s enough about me.”
He turns to Keria, tilting his head.
“Keria Ryu, right? I remember you from the expo, we both signed up for the competition at the end.”
“Right,” Keria nods, suppressing a wince, “Congratulations on your victory, your model was impressive.”
“Thank you. But you were extremely impressive as well,” Gumayusi smiles. Keria tries to decipher the candor of that smile to no avail.
“You also specialize in runes, don’t you?” Oner asks, gaze gleaming with interest.
“Yeah,” He agrees, “I’ve just graduated from the Academy of Targon’s runic studies. My thesis was on Mount Targon’s natural and architectural structures under runic principles.”
“Oh, it was much more than that.” Gumayusi follows, “I believe it covered the divine aspect as well as the potential hextech applications of Targonian runes, all while considering the theology and structural geometry of the structures surrounding the mountain’s peak.”
Keria catches Gumayusi’s sharp gaze as he turns to him, staggering under the weight of his focus.
“You also established the connections between the natural ridges on the cliffs and the strategic locations of the Rakkor’s and the Solari’s shelters and temples. You mapped out all the known runic devices and how they interconnected with each other using the placement of the constellation charts and the height of the sun.” Gumayusi continues listing off the contents of Keria’s report, even mentioning elements he’s sure he didn’t even cover in his expo presentation.
“Woah,” Zeus’ eyes widen, “That’s impressive. It sounds super complex.”
“That’s because it is.” Oner agrees, whistling in admiration, “The whole thing must’ve taken a crazy amount of knowledge and calculations. Do we have ourselves another genius right here?”
“The unprecedented genius monster, in fact.” Gumayusi sing-songs as Keria feels heat gathering up his cheeks at the mention of his nickname, “Wasn’t that what they called you, back in Targon’s Academy?”
Keria squirms under the unexpected shower of praise, not knowing how to react. “You know a lot.”
“Gotta know your competition.” Gumayusi smirks. (Keria suppresses the urge to squint at the statement too reminiscent of a threat.) “Besides, I wanted to know more, on the off-chance you’d accept Faker’s invitation. I’m glad you decided to join us here at Piltover.”
Keria feels the words grate against him like sandpaper. As usual, the Piltovan oozed confidence bordering on arrogance, and he couldn’t help but stay wary of that.
“Right,” he smiles, and hopes it doesn’t look as strained as he feels it to be, “then I’ll be in your care.”
“With you here, this project’s got nothing on us.” Gumayusi grins, “we’re going to succeed for sure.”
Before Keria can ask what he means by that, Zeus interrupts his thoughts with a guffaw, “So you're just hoping to ride the unprecedented genius monster’s tailcoat?”
“Oi,” Gumayusi nudges his shoulder, “I can hold my own.”
“Right,” Oner lifts an eyebrow, “then you're going to come up with the runes to map the Sun Disc’s placement in accordance with the surrounding city?”
“Hey, that’s unfair. Runes are your specialties, not mine.”
“This entire project is runic hextech.” Keria hums, “you’re going to have to learn them eventually.”
“I'm sure Keria would love to teach you, wouldn't he?”
Keria resists the urge to send Zeus a betrayed look at the suggestion.
“He doesn’t have to” Gumayusi is quick to decline, turning to him, “I’ll figure it out by my own means. I’m sure you have better things to do, research to be done, runes to calibrate.”
Keria hums in agreement and is content with standing back while Gumayusi moves on to the next subject. For all his faults, Keria can’t help but appreciate this last gesture. They both know how time-consuming research can be, and between classes, work, and other obligations, he doesn’t think he could have the time to babysit a hextech student.
Watching the Piltovan students start comparing schedules to coordinate the best times to go to the labs, Keria believes it won’t be so bad. If they can work decently well together, they’ll be set to be research partners for the semester.
Classmates. Co-workers. Colleagues. That’s all they need to be.
Keria doesn’t have to like Gumayusi, but he can be civil, at the very least.
✰
After that initial introductory meeting, they have several team reunions to discuss and plan their course of action.
Team coordination is a pain, for one. Both Zeus’ and Oner’s schedules are packed to the brim, aiming to speed through their respective curriculums for two separate reasons.
That means he and Gumayusi are the ones who will occupy the laboratory spaces for the most part, and initially, Keria feels reluctant to spend that much time with the one person he least wanted to get involved with when he transferred to Piltover.
And then… it goes surprisingly well?
On their first lab session without either Faker, Oner, or Zeus with them, Gumayusi invites him to exchange thesis notes, and Keria accepts, if only for the sheer curiosity of having the opportunity to read through his opponent’s findings.
What he finds is striking. His specialization might be in a different field, but he’d looked into hextech enough to understand the basics for his own research. But Gumayusi’s thesis is far beyond anything he’s learned so far.
The theories are so bold, yet backed up by formulas and diagrams complex enough to make his head spin just by looking at them. From this sole document, anyone could tell just how brilliant the man who wrote it had to be.
Keria understood that; one had to be intelligent, in order to simulate the recreation of the Sun Disc’s mechanisms out of hextech. But it wouldn’t be an overstatement to call him a genius on par with the rest of them.
What’s more, as they begin discussing their theories, Keria finds they worked startingly well together. When Gumayusi isn’t boasting, he was extremely logical and reasonable, as well as receptive to his input, answering all of his questions with wit, and following with relevant comments.
It is all too easy to find the connections between Targonian and Shuriman technology that Faker talked about, and they’re barely halfway through their first work session when they go see their senior for his opinion.
“So you’re basically trying to combine your two theses into one big contraption,” He squints, looking over the hurriedly sketched initial plan, “am I understanding it correctly?”
The older student examines the roughly drawn blueprint, brushing the edges of the magnetic contraption’s outer rings with his fingertips. The drawing depicts four curved metal arches erupting from the circular frame installed on the ground, a hextech crystal set into the tip of each one. Between those arches, a sizeable disc hovers above the ground, surrounded by four rings inscribed with runic carvings.
“Right, there’s so much overlap! There’s the potential for harmonic resonance between the Solari runes of Targon and the Sun Disc.” Keria shares, excitement barely contained by the speed of his rambling, “In theory, if we plan the exact measurements of the disc and the different rings, we can carve the runes and set up the hextech crystals in the right placements to create constructive interference, and—”
“How do you expect to plan the measurements ahead of time?” Faker shakes his head, “There’s bound to be adjustments to make, as you experiment. But with the size of your structure, it would take more materials than I can provide.”
“We’d have to make them adjustable, then.”
“No, we can’t.” Gumayusi reminds him, “The components have to be perfectly symmetrical for it to work. We’d have to calculate the right measurements beforehand.”
Faker watches them as they pause, expression unreadable, “That’s possible, but only in theory. You’d have to be madly optimistic to think you can get them right on your first, second, or even third attempt.”
Keria bites his lip. He isn’t wrong. They can only work with pure theory up until the fabrication of their metal components, which required vast amounts of brass, copper, and gold, given the size of the required model.
“We can do it.”
Keria turns to Gumayusi, bewildered at his unprompted declaration.
“You can trust us, we’re skilled enough to get it right within three tries. We’ll make it happen.”
Faker inclines his head, “Skilled, you say? I don’t recall you having any experience with this particular kind of large-scale calculation.”
“But Keria does,” Gumayusi refutes, “and I trust him.”
And now Keria is even more confused.
“I do?” He asks, staring incredulously at his teammate. (Not to mention the trust part, where had that one come from?)
“You had a section on the possible integration of all known carvings on Mount Targon, complete with calculations and potential designs of the missing pieces,” Gumayusi states as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Truth be told, Keria had almost forgotten about that part. (Sue him, his document was over two hundred pages long.)
“... Right.” It’s all he can answer back under Gumayusi’s expectant stare, his thoughts becoming more tangled by the minute.
“Well then, go ahead.”
Their heads simultaneously whip towards Faker, whose face breaks out in a smug smile.
“People doubted me too, remember? And then I proved them wrong.” He grins, putting his hands on their shoulders, “I'll get the logistics sorted out, so leave the council's approval to me. Go show them all what you’ve got.”
Just like that. They’re set to begin this mad, ambitious project with the snap of a finger.
Keria can feel his heartbeat pick up speed at the prospect, at the admiration and hope that surges within his chest. At the same time, his mind runs at breakneck speeds, trying to compute all of the day’s events at once.
What just happened?
