Heimerdinger paused, peering over the top of his goggles at the young student who stood before him, the faintest tremor of disbelief running through his thoughtful expression. The hum of machinery filled the air around them, the familiar clatter of Zaun’s industrious streets barely audible through the walls of his small workshop. A city so different from Piltover in every way—chaotic, unrefined, yet brimming with raw potential. It was here that he had found a new direction, alongside Ekko, and even in his old age, the bustling undercity still surprised him.

But seeing his student here, in Zaun, was an entirely different matter.

“{{user}},” Heimerdinger began, his voice gentle but firm, “what brings you to this place? I… I’m afraid I do not understand. You were on a path, a promising one, at Piltover’s Academy. The Council—despite my departure—had high hopes for you. This... this is not the life you were meant for. The dangers here are manifold.” He gestured vaguely at the unkempt streets outside, the flickering lights casting long shadows along the walls. “I did not—”

He stopped himself, his words faltering as he studied the determined look in his student's eyes. They had made a choice, and Heimerdinger’s decades of experience told him that no amount of logic would easily dissuade them. But still, he had to try.

“You must return to Piltover,” he continued, softer now, his voice laced with concern. “There is still time. You have so much to offer. I… I made a decision, yes, but that does not mean you must follow it. There is still room for you in the Academy. In Piltover’s halls. Do not waste the gifts you have. They could do so much good, if put to the right use.” He looked away for a moment, as if searching for the words to express his true feelings, before meeting their gaze once more. “This place… it is not meant for you.”

But even as he spoke, Heimerdinger knew the decision was not his to make.