Aria of Isolation

Chapter 2: Looking Up at the Summit

"Ah…you found…me?" Rumble smiled sheepishly, an innocent wave back. With a loud scream, Ziggs slammed the doors shut, bracing his back against them. The touring groups were gone, yet Rumble was still here. This wasn't good in the least bit, he thought.

"What're you still doin' here?" he interrogated frantically, stumbling over to confirm the laboratory door was still locked.

"Ziggs, we barely got to see each other. I wasn't gonna just let Afro-For-Brains think he can boss me around so the poor, wittle long-legs don't get upset."

"You're not supposed to be here, though! You're supposed to be on your way back to Bandle by now! What happened to just waiting outside for me so we could catch up later?" Ziggs bit at the fingertips of his gloves nervously as all at once he felt his job and reputation at risk, "Aw, man… Aw, jeez…"

"I am—" Rumble kicked the doors open and dusted himself off, "—not going back out into that big ass city!"

"Why not? You're gonna get me trouble!"

"Because it's…big and stupid!"

"Damn it! Damn it! I can't lose my job because you're too scared of Piltover." Frantically, Ziggs opened and closed various cabinets along the side workbenches.

"I'm not scared! It's just…stuffy and full of long-legs."

"They're called humans, Rumble."

"Who cares? They're not the reason I came here - you are!" Ziggs ran past him to throw more doors opens, "And would you stop running around!? I need to talk to you!"

"Where is it? Where is it?"

"Are you even paying attention to me!?"

"Aha! Found it! Here!" Whipping it out, Ziggs held the open the large, brown sack towards the other, "Hop in!"

With incredulous eyes, Rumble looked between them before snatching the bag away, "Are you serious right now? You're just gonna try and toss me out like Heimerdipshit did?"

"But…but you're not supposed to be here—"

"I know! I know I'm not supposed to be here. But I've been needing to talk to you."

"Then what the hell do ya want!?" Ziggs shouted, "Look, I'm sorry! Okay? I'm sorry! …I'm sorry…for leaving. I'm sorry for never coming back. And…and if you're here to beat the stuffin' outta me then…just get it over with. Just…please, don't get me in trouble."

Heimerdinger's words rang in Rumble's head. Like a wrench in the works, he stopped. He knew he was at the heart of his visit; the question his entire trip depended on. When it finally came to the tip of his tongue, it sprang back into his throat, forcing him to swallow it down. Tristana warned him about what may happen. So, he gathered his thoughts and courage, taking a tight hold of Ziggs' wrist.

"I'm taking you back to Bandle!"

"What?"

Knock! Knock! Knock! Pounding against the heavy door raised their ears in a startle.

"Uh oh…" Ziggs muttered.

"Zigmund! Unlock this door post-haste! Me and my assistant have an exorbitant amount to discuss with you!" A familiar voice shouted from the other side: Heimerdinger's.

"Not now, not now," He looked back at Rumble, putting a finger to his mouth and pushing him back into the locker with a rough whisper, "You are so lucky there's 4 inches of metal between us or he might have heard you! Now shh!"

Returning Rumble to his hiding place, Ziggs frantically searched the drawers for the electronic combination lock he'd almost forgotten about. Clicking it into place, he brushed himself off as if he would look any different. Carefully, he unlocked the laboratory door, just a sliver, and brought only his smiling mouth into view.

"Sup?"

"I believe it would be more appropriate for us to talk inside, Dean of Demolitions."

"…now?"

"Yes, now."

"…right now?"

"Affirmative, right now."

"…I can't."

"Oh? Why's this?"

"…I'm naked?"

"And why would you be naked inside your laboratory?"

"…science?"

"Open this door, Zigmund!"

"Okay! Alright!"

Begrudgingly invited in, Heimerdinger and his assistant peered around with skepticism. Ziggs had forgotten how much Gustaav followed the other and had a hard time keeping an eye on him as he jotted down notes onto his clipboard.

"Zigmund, do you know the reasoning in regards to my arrival here?" he kept his hands behind his back.

Ziggs shifted his attention between the two as much as he could divide it, "I…can't say I do, Heimy," his laughter betrayed anxiousness. Was he going to scold him for having Rumble here earlier? Did he already assume Rumble was still around? Did it have to do with Rumble at all?

"It's because…" Ziggs braced himself, "…I've come to congratulate you on your superior performance!" Heimerdinger cheered.

Opening an eye up, he expected the full brunt of the professor's rage dowsed over him, "You…did? I mean, of course you did! Who wouldn't? That was, like, over a week's worth of making the rockets alone."

"You most certainly made that abundantly clear, my protégé. At one point, I couldn't see past any of those vibrant eruptions!" Heimerdinger's arms flailed about, "I cannot begin to inform you of both the participants' and the staff's overall approval of your firework arrangement coupled with the exceptional presentation of your laboratory. You're proving yourself quite worthy of your title!"

"D'aww, c'mon, Heimy. You're gonna make me blush!" he slapped his palms onto his cheeks.

Knots tied together in Rumble's stomach, the pretentious voice echoing throughout the locker, "Damn it, Ziggs. Why do you have to look up to someone like him? Ugh, I can't wait 'til this is over," Through the slits of light, he could see an olive yordle looking back at him, "…the hell does this kid want?"

"And your surprise performance in the opening ceremony was most delightful. Throwing caution to the wind and journeying on your final hexplosive around the room was just impeccable!" Heimerdinger flared his hands for emphasis.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Heimy," Ziggs inched his way over to Gustaav, taking him into a playful hold under his arm and sanding down his bobbing tuft of fur on his forehead, "Of course, I don't mind ya layin' it on thick. Right, Gus? You liked them sparkly sparkles?" Ziggs giggled.

"Ah! Oh! O-of course! It was, uhm, spectacular."

"Louder!"

Gustaav clenched his eyes shut, "It was super-duper amazing and stuff!"

"There ya go," Ziggs cooed.

"Stop coercing my assistant, would you? He's very busy."

"Bein' nosy?" Ziggs let the rattled assistant retreat back to Heimerdinger's side.

"He's—" Heimerdinger thought for a moment, "—taking inventory, aren't you?"

Looking between the two, Gustaav hid his mouth behind his clipboard and nodded. Ziggs crossed his arms, "Of the entire Academy?"

"I stated that he was busy, did I not?"

"Very," Ziggs squinted.

"Returning to our previous matter of business, your attention to detail and overall performance should hopefully serve as a precursor to your bright future here."

"You know I aim to please, Heimy!"

"Quite. Now, we must be off to make my rounds with the rest of the departments. Gustaav," he called. The tension eased with every step they took to the door, "I'll let you get back to your assigned work, Dean of Demolitions. And, please, do make progress. Your backlog is gaining length rapidly."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll get right on that, boss-man!" Ziggs was nearly pushing the pair out now and couldn't wait to slam the door shut behind them. He would have, too, had it not been for one last interjection from Heimerdinger.

"Oh, and one more thing, Zigmund," he looked through the nearly closed doorway.

"The Code Red in the Hexelectrical Engineering Department yesterday was not my fault, I swear."

"Not that. Just a quick observation… Rumble must have been in quite a hurry to leave after the tour, I must say," a bead of sweat ran along Ziggs' brow, "I didn't even see him leave with the others."

"Yeah…he…really hates this place. I bet he's outside cursin' up a storm right now!"

"A shame, really. I wouldn't want any of that outlandish behavior to become a representative example of the Academy, don't you agree?"

"Don't worry. I'll, uh…" he eased the final inches closed, "…give him a nice talkin' to."

Click.

After holding it in, Ziggs finally blew a held breath out, "Close one…"

"Yeah, can't wait for you to go outside and give that Rumble guy a stern talkin' to," Rumble's muffled voice answered in disdain.

"Or I could just keep him where he is and head on home."

He scoffed, "Home's a long way from here."

Rolling his eyes, Ziggs made his way over to fiddle with the lock. He could vaguely recollect the code, though the initial tour of his workspace was a hazy memory drowned out by the overexcitement of his new job. A tense air hovered between them, Rumble's demand still lingering.

"…Rumble, I can't just go back to Bandle."

"I figured you would say that. Guess I should have listened to her."

"Trist?"

"Yeah. She told me it would be a stupid question to ask. But, hey, don't know until you try."

He spun the dial around aimlessly, "Listen, buddy, I love Bandle. I really do! But I can't just abandon the Academy because you feel like having me around again."

"You could have at least come back to visit."

"A lot of stuff happened when I came over here. There was the presentation, I blew a hole in a wall, had to save kidnapped scientists in Zaun, became Dean of Demolitions, it was a whole stinkin' ordeal. Trust me, it's hard to explain."

"Oh wow, you're a hero in this city, too? Great."

"Not exactly. Besides, by then, it was too late."

"Too late for what?" Ziggs didn't answer that, jumbled codes rattling around his brain, "Well, you could have at least written something back. Anything!"

"Why would I? So I could read a letter about how much you hated me!?"

"I didn't hate you!" the doors rattled with Rumble's fists, "I just—!"

"Thought you were a complete and utter traitor," his mind finished.

"That's what I thought. Now lemmie get this stupid thing open."

With each attempt came the faint beeping and flashing red light in the corner. It kept telling him to try again and again. Was it a birthday? Another important date? The molecular weight of magnesium? The beeping continued.

"Tsk. Stupid thing."

"…everyone misses you," Rumble tried, "They want you back home."

"Oh yeah? Who? Nobody wants a weapon like me back there again." Beep beep! "Try again…" Ziggs muttered, frustrated.

"Tristana sure does."

"Tristana was completely on-board with me leaving, so I doubt that."

"Teemo does, too."

"Teems couldn't care less, I know that for sure." Beep beep! "Try again."

"The Mayor! He even thinks you'll do better at home."

"He wanted me out the most!" Beep beep! "Damn it, try again!"

"Everyone in town really wants to see you again! Everyone in the city wants you back!"

Beep beep!

Ziggs slammed his fist against the lock, "Try again!"

"I want you back!" Rumble shouted through the doors.

His ears rose up, remembering. That's right. Rumble. Ziggs punched in his best friend's birthday. The lock sounded off a happier tone this time.

Beep beep beep! Whirrr. Clink! Ziggs clutched the lock and chucked it aside, dragging the doors open. A part of Rumble wished he didn't, however, as his solemness complimented his slouch. His blank eyes peered down at nothing.

"Rumble…buddy, I dunno how many times I can tell ya this, but…I'm sorry. It's just that—"

"You don't have to say it. I know. Heimerdinger was right. Look at this place. This is…everything you ever wanted. I'm just being a selfish prick," he stepped out, not bothering with the dust strewn on him, "No sneaking around this time. I'm out of here for real now. I'll let you get back to your life here…and I'll get back to mine."

Rumble made his way to the lab door, Ziggs' heart sunk deeper and deeper into regret with each step. There was something else that would end up leaving through that doorway and it wasn't just Rumble. Whatever it was, he couldn't let it go.

"Wait!" Ziggs shouted.

Rumble looked over his shoulder, less than an arm's reach from the handle, "What?"

That was a good question. It was a gut reaction, really. Something took him over and demanded Rumble stay. He couldn't tell if it was the fear of loneliness returning or the fear of reprimand from Heimerdinger. So, he scrambled around in his head for something, anything to keep Rumble on Ziggs' side of the door.

"You can't go. Because…" Ziggs started.

"All Heimer wants to see is me walking out the front door and that's exactly what he'll get, so don't worry about that. Now just let me—"

"I need you!"

Rumble blinked, then blinked again, unsure of what to respond with.

"…here! I need you here!" He was improvising now, struggling for a reason "To help me…with…stuff…" then he saw the list on the wall, stumbling over to rip it off, "…on this list! Right here!"

"You want me to stay…to help you with more chores?" Rumble crossed his arms.

"They're not just any chores, buddy. They're super-duper-important deadlines I gotta meet for projects I haven't gotten to yet!

"Let me see that," he snatched the paper from Ziggs, racing his eyes over it, "…Ziggs, most of these dates have already passed. Like, a while ago. And this one's coming up! Are you kidding me? You're no different than how you used to be in school!"

"See? I haven't changed one bit! Now, doesn't that just make ya happy?" Ziggs smiled, trapping Rumble in his own words.

"W-well, I mean, I guess? But you should at least be doing something with all this new tech you have."

"Yeah, well, ya can't teach an old dog new tricks! …no, wait. Ya can't…give an old dog…a new laboratory… Ya can't genetically engineer a new dog from an old—"

"…I get it, Ziggs. Look, even if I did agree to help you around here, despite how soundproof your lab may be, how am I supposed to leave and come back with you? Because this stuff isn't just an all-nighter, y'know? And where the heck am I supposed to sleep, anyway?"

Ziggs hummed to himself in thought, scratching his chin. Scenarios played out in short scenes: Rumble hiding at each instance of visitors, snoring in a sleeping bag on the floor overnight; sneaking him through the ventilation system; tossing him out a window; slapping on a fake mustache; switching clothes. Ziggs grinned, ears perking up as an ingenious idea took form.

"That's it!"

"What's it?"

"The perfect way to get ya in and out of this joint!"

"Here we go," Rumble sighed, knowing full well that a perfect plan to Ziggs didn't necessarily mean a logical one.

"Don't sit down, buddy, because I'll just kick that seat right out from under ya!" Rumble cocked an eyebrow. "I'm gonna shove you…into…a bomb! Ehehe!" Ziggs' arms shot up with a beaming smile, waiting for his shower of praise.

Instead, Rumble lifted his head up, aloud, "Alright, Heimer! I'm ready to go!"

"No, no, no, no, no, no, wait, wait, wait, wait!" his arms flailed about, "It's a fake bomb! It's not real! It's gonna be hollow on the inside. It'll just look like a real bomb from the outside but it won't be a real bomb because it's fake and fake things aren't real!"

"Are you kidding? What're you gonna do? Roll me around like a snowball till I barf?"

"Nonsense! I'll make it flat on the bottom. Pft, duh."

"Don't 'Pft, duh' me! How does that change anything?"

"When I put it on the platform cart, silly."

"What platform cart!?"

"Okay, let me go over this again. We're gonna make the framework and outer shell of a big bomb that everyone's already used to seeing me with. But, instead of it being a real bomb, it'll be all hollow on the inside with enough room to jam ya in. Then, I'm gonna wheel it around in one of the equipment carts they got lying around here and just say that it's a…extracurricular project of mine. No one'll notice a thing!"

"Wait, we're going to make it?" Rumble squinted.

"Well, yeah! I mean, I can do it myself, sure, but with you here, we'll get it done in no time!" Ziggs brought an arm behind Rumble's shoulders to pull him in close, "It'll be just like the old days, buddy!"

For a moment, the floor wouldn't let go of Rumble's feet as his cheek pressed against Ziggs' chest, accentuating his meager height. There was the touch, the flicker, the small spark that was just enough to warm his face. He nudged away from it before he could make sense of it.

"You…really want to keep me here, don't you?" he asked.

Ziggs rubbed his hands together, as if nervous to admit it —his wide and sheepish smile gave it away, "It's been awhile, buddy…and I dunno when another chance like this is gonna happen. I won't keep ya here forever! Just…enough time for us to catch up, yeah? So…whaddaya say?"

What would he say? An extended vacation in Piltover wasn't on Rumble's list of expectations before boarding the ship, and he was more than reluctant to give this city his time and effort. However, leaving now would guarantee another year of regrets and loneliness. Taking Ziggs with him was out of the realm of possibility; he'd have to settle for the second best.

"This is such a dumb, stupid, crazy mess of an idea from you…" Rumble shook his head, "I'm in."

"Yes! Haha! This is gonna be awesome!" Ziggs cheered, already fishing out a blank scroll to lay out in front of them, "Once we get the basic structure down, it'll just be fetching the materials and putting them together. Easy!"

"How are we gonna fit this thing in your car, anyways?"

Ziggs kept a quizzical smile on, "What car?"

"They…did give you some sort of vehicle here, didn't they? This place's freaking huge —how do you get anywhere?"

"Just the good ol' one foot in front of the other!"

Rumble's palms smacked his disgruntled face. Doomed, he thought.

Down the corridor, Heimerdinger and Gustaav waited for the elevators.

"And then I said 'Isolated strains of Hypervirulent Campylobacter? I hardly know her!'" Heimerdinger laughed heartily at his own joke while Gustaav forced his own.

"Ah…haha. Yes, that's very funny, sir," he assured, feeling a piece of himself dying inside.

"See, Gustaav? We have fun here. You'll come to acquaint yourself further in this establishment in due time. Now, humorous remarks aside, I must inquire about your observations inside Zigmund's laboratory."

Gustaav nearly jumped in his olive fur. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't stifle his nervous stammering, "U-uhm…well…you see…"

"Gustaav, this is a very simple question. Did you see Rumble in there?"

Did he? Maybe he did. Maybe he didn't. He couldn't tell. Now he couldn't remember. His world was spinning now, caught in a tug of war between his mental insecurities. His paranoia shouted that Rumble was everywhere, his doubtfulness told him Rumble never existed, his anxiety whispered to him to shush, and his impulsivity pushed him to blurt out the first thing on his mind. Through it all, he managed to utter something sensible from his roots.

"…nothing to report, sir! Not a single hair from him."

There was a moment of silence —not for disbelief, but for the discontent in the way Gustaav said it. Heimerdinger hummed his uneasiness, but shrugged.

"I'll take your word as true, then. It seems Rumble is no longer present inside the Academy. After all, we've revisited every floor, department, and classroom. Perhaps my paranoia is encapsulating my sense of reason."

Ding!

"Professor, if I may, w-why is Rumble so important to you? Or, rather, the lack of him so important to you?" Gustaav asked hesitantly as the elevator opened to allow them in.

"Just speaking of him fills me with unbridled rage. However, I suppose context breeds confluence. You see, Rumble harbors extremely elevated levels of contempt for the city-state of Piltover and all it resembles, especially the human race as a whole. There are many reasons for this. The first is, very obviously, his comparatively smaller stature to humans."

"Isn't that all of us compared to humans, sir?"

"Genetically defective, he is. The average yordle is rarely as small as he when matured. As such, he holds much pride in his work and looks down on humans. Figuratively, of course. Rumble believes himself to stand far ahead of me in technological prowess. However, his practices and methodology are all wrong!"

"I guess he is pretty short now that you mention it."

"While it was my intention to see his efforts put to use here under my leadership, he declined rather vehemently. Since then, he has been nothing but an unruly nuisance in his misguided attempted to show the world how to respect yordles. For these reasons, having someone as potentially destructive and disrespectful here bodes all but well for the Academy. And during such a crucial time, he is even less welcome to ruin our chances of our institutions's growth."

"You think he'll…make a fuss?"

"Make a fuss? He'll ruin everything!" Heimerdinger's anger brimmed as he latched his hands onto his assistant's shoulders, shaking him more than already was, "Do you understand the ramifications should that rebel still walk these grounds!?"

"N-n-not completely, professor!"

"If Jago sees the Academy showing even a single modicum of support for someone as disrespectful as Rumble, then he won't support us! And no support means no trust from the clans, and no trust from the clans means no respect for yordlekind here!"

Ding!

"And no respect for yordles here means no—"

"Cecil," a blunt voice spoke in the now parted doorway.

The two yordles shrieked, holding one another as the tall, red robe stood ominously over them.

"AH—! …Jago!" Heimerdinger collected himself after parting from his assistant who now shivered behind him.

"I was just looking for you."

"I- I hope you've enjoyed your fill of the Academy, yes?"

Stoic were his motions, face unamused as his steps turned away from them, "For the time being."

The two quickly caught up to the lumbering steps, his words not settling quite right for Heimerdinger.

"It's no doubt the Hexacyclic Engineering Department must have caught your eye, hm? Or perhaps the Neuroscience Department's presentation may have sparked your intrigue? It wouldn't be surprising if our superior—"

"Superior?" Jago froze, looking down in disgust.

Heimerdinger was quick to change his vocabulary, "—our…diligent Educational Department impressed you with their strict curriculum!"

"Mm. Yes, all of the areas we visited were very amicable displays of effort. You run a good…school here. However, the day is getting old and I must address other business."

"So, we should finalize our business regarding support from the clans then, should we not?"

"No, we should not."

"I-I beg your pardon?" Heimerdinger stumbled.

"I see this Yordle Area of...Something or Other putting its best foot forward. The festivities and presentations have been masterful, of that there is no doubt. However, what of the normal operations? How does it fair when eyes are averted? When you think no one is watching?"

"Well, I…don't see an issue with that! The Yordle Academy of Science and Progress is always under presentable, pristine, and prestigious conditions. So, when would you like to schedule your next survey?"

"No appointment," Jago turned on his heel, making his way to the spacious lobby's doors.

"W-when will you arrive then!?"

"Who knows? Perhaps tomorrow. In a week. In a month. Whenever. Just be ready."

With his voice trailing off alongside the subtle tap of his cane, Gustaav found it easier to come out of hiding. The two found themselves alone in an aura of confusion and bewilderment. Normally, the nervous yordle would have expected the professor to say something intelligent or reasonable, yet, he heard nothing.

"Sir…if I may, Mr. Jago doesn't seem very nice," Gustaav admitted with caution.

A moment passed as Heimerdinger swallowed the truth he dared to hold back, "…I am aware of this. I had thought myself steeled against the various notable human representatives here after my initial impressions from them were proven wrong. The clansmen are much more powerful than I. But I do this for the good of yordlekind. For them, I must continue to exceed human expectations."

"You're a brave yordle, Mr. Heimerdinger. I'm sure everyone else feels the same," Gustaav assured, though it did little for the sorrowful scientist.

"No, my assistant. I'm afraid that there will always be one yordle to vilify me. For that reason, we must make sure he is most certainly not on the premise ever again…permanently!" Heimerdinger stopped to look at his wristwatch, "…starting tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow, sir?" the olive yordle asked, watching the other stride away with poise.

"It's past my hours here and I work for salary. I'm packing up for the day and I suggest you do the same!"

"O-oh…very well, then. Have a good day, sir."

Quietly, Gustaav let out a heavy sigh once Heimerdinger was far enough away, looking up to the tall ceilings that stared back down with its many floors of intimidating innovation. This weight on his heart would tax him, surely.

"I hope you guys work fast…"

Round and round the pencil raced across the paper, quickly turning it from a blank sheet into a busy schematic of rough designs, informative arrows, and miscellaneous doodles. The structure was simple, spherical, but needed to look convincing enough for someone to feel as if they were really standing next to a life-sized explosive...or at least a yordle-sized one. It took Rumble some time to agree on a sketch (that included a badly-drawn version of him stuffed inside), but when he did, the two quickly went to work.

Metal bars found their way to one another as meticulous hands connected the framework. The curvature ill-matched the flatness of the bottom; it was something Ziggs had to keep reassuring Rumble about. Sheets for the outer shell were melded together as Rumble worked at configuring the hatch door. Like an adamantly rehearsed dance, they assembled it piece by piece as if it was second nature. In fact, it was, and this faux-bomb didn't even come close to their more complex contraptions in the past. It was those years they reminisced about between food breaks: the make-believe play they always did in Bandle's Junkyard and the many contraptions they would aimlessly toy with until sunset. It made them laugh.

The project wasn't considered complete until Ziggs spray painted his signature skull onto the red shell. Now able to admire the fruits of their labor, the two stepped back to look over it one last time.

"I'll call it…'The Rumbler'!" Ziggs said proudly, beholding their creation.

"Boring. I was thinking more along the lines of… 'The ZR Super Prototype Combustor X'!" Rumble punching the air, but was met with crickets, "Fine… The Rumbler it is, then."

"I always knew you'd see things my way, buddy," Ziggs looked over at his mounted clock, "And just in time to hightail it outta here."

"You sure this is gonna work? I don't have too much experience, uh, gettin' smuggled in and out of places."

"Of course, it's gonna work! It was my idea, after all. When was the last time one of them didn't work?"

"…you want a list or…?"

"Maybe later. Now, hop in!" Ziggs smiled, patting the echoing faux-bomb.

With a huff and a grunt, Rumble sized up the prop and made a leap up to the open hole at the top. Almost. His puny arms did little to pull the rest of his body in as his legs kicked against the shell.

'Ngh… Give me a push, will ya?"

"On it!"

That's when Rumble felt two palms grip his rear, his ears drawn back and eyes wide, "Gah!

Ziggs! The hell are you doing!?"

"Giving you a push! That's what you asked!"

"I wanted you to help me up, not grab my ass!"

"Well, what else did you want me to grab!?"

"Just grab my legs or something, ya idiot!"

"Your words, not mine!"

Losing control of his body, Rumble dove headfirst into the empty bomb, "Hey, wait, wait—! Oof!" The bomb shook with an echoing clang, "…I hate you."

Ziggs' face appeared like a solar eclipse, peeking in to see Rumble groaning and adjusting himself to the tight confines, "So! How is it? Comfy? Roomy? The apex of yordle ingenuity?" he twirled the ends of his cheek fur.

"How's about none of the above? This sucks. It's cold, hard, and there's barely enough room to spread my legs."

"Good thing no one else is in there with ya, then!"

Rumble squinted his eyes, "What's that supposed to mea—"

"Great! It's perfect!"

Ziggs slammed the hatch door shut with a giggle, jumping down to close up shop for the day. He opted to keep his prototype core in the lab lest he look a tad too armed on the streets of Piltover. Schematics strewn about, drawers half-open, almost-finished food making crumbs in the corners; looked good enough to him. Leaving all but one hanging light rod on, he took ahold of the platform cart and hastily wheeled it away. It was surprisingly light. That, or Ziggs was surprisingly strong. Rumble felt every bump and rattle in their path—the only sense he had of the known surroundings.

The spacious lobby was nearly empty now, a stark contrast to the day's happenings. A skeptical Ziggs scanned every direction as he strode closer and closer to the Academy's main doors.

"Hm…no sign of Heimy," he muttered under his breath. "Looks like we're in the clear."

"Guess that makes this a big waste of time, eh?"

"Sh! You're a volatile prototype, not a talking bomb."

Out the wide doors and under the setting Sun, Ziggs watched stray yordles and humans walk by the base of the grand steps. Rumble heard subtle noises muffled by the thin metal. Then, his whole world shook, tossing him around and slamming him against every rounded corner of the inner sphere. He couldn't tell if a might thunk was from the faux-bomb against the cart or his head cracking against the metal.

With his hair and head frazzled, he growled and pounded the fake shell, "Are you fucking kidding me? Did you take the steps?"

"Y'know, I completely forgot we had ramps here. Promise I'll use 'em next time!"

"Any more of that and there won't be a next time, ya idiot!"

"It's a good thing people here already think I'm crazy otherwise they might wonder why I'm talkin' to this inanimate object. Woo, watch out! Looney comin' through!"

"You don't have to prove them right, y'know?"

The last shreds of the sunset left its trail of orange and red across the sky as automated street lights flickered on. Each bump of the sidewalk was a jolt of reality for Rumble as he had wished they'd chosen something more dignified. He felt a familiar sense of helplessness that brought him back to his younger years, as if Ziggs was taking him by the hand again.

Once they were far enough away from the Academy, Ziggs felt comfortable letting Rumble out.

"Coast is clear, buddy."

And up the hatch door flew, "Guh! You coulda drilled air holes in there, y'know?" Rumble complained, resting his elbows against outer shell as he hung over. The tall buildings and open air were a stark contrast from Ziggs' lab. It dwarfed the blue yordle more than any human could.

"Well, if I did that, no one would believe me!"

"Ugh, this place makes me sick. Fuckin' gag me."

"Aw, ya get used to it eventually. I've been here a whole year and haven't gotten stepped on not once!"

"Probably because they think you'll blow up on impact."

"Maybe I will. That'd be a neat way to go, if I say so myself."

"I just don't get it. Why would any yordle come to a city like this? Everything's too fucking big for us. Look at this!" Rumble raised his arms up at the infinitely rising towers, "All these buildings and stands are for long-legged, money-grubbing, pieces of shit!"

"You're right, buddy. Only the worst of the worst yordles would ever wanna come here."

That's when Rumble saw the cocky smirk Ziggs threw back at him, looking away in a huff, "Shut up. You know why I'm here."

"To jeopardize my career?"

"No, you idiot! Because—Gah! Nevermind!" Ruble retreated back into the bomb, slamming the hatch door shit in frustrations. But after a moment of silence, his eyes peeked back out, "Sorry."

Ziggs couldn't help but laugh, "We're almost there, anyway. You'll love the yordle-sized stuff comin' up!"

"The last thing I need is pandering, y'know?"

Through the stray insults and rhythmic bumps, around street lamps and uneasy bystanders, they approached the arch ahead. What lied behind it was the semi-gated community of yordle citizens that made up a tiny fraction of Piltover's population. Familiar to Ziggs and conflicting to Rumble, they stopped just before it, raising their heads to keep it in sight.

"Here it is, buddy!" Ziggs introduced a finger pointing up at the metallic lettering.

"'Daintree Cove'? Really? They named it after, like, one of the most commonly known place in Yordleland?"

"There really is no pleasin' ya, huh?"

"And this is where they haul all the yordles into? Can't have them running amuck in the city, I

guess."

"Hey! Could be worse like when Heimy first came here."

"How was it then?"

"Non-existent."

"What?"

"Yup. There really wasn't a place for yordles in Piltover before Heimy showed them what we could do. That's when they built this place to welcome all the new, neato minds from Bandle. And there's more to come!"

"Heimerdinger…is the reason for this?" Rumble grimaced, not wanting to believe his rival was responsible for yordles having even a modicum of respect here.

"You bet! He's the reason just about any yordle comes to Piltover."

"Great. You're really doing a shitty job warmin' me up to this place, Ziggs."

"In time, buddy ol' pal, in time. Now, to the house of Ziggs! Onward!" he called with a mighty tug, lurching the cart and its contents forward.

"Hey! Watch it!"

Together, the two yordles crossed beneath the arch…

…and jumped as high as they could to reach the metal above. They thought with enough of a running start they could eventually reach it. Maybe when they got older.

The sound of laughter joined the children's leaps and bounds, spins and twirls as they brought in the new sunset that slowly sunk past the piles of junk. Colorful loops of their imagination began to wind around them, the endless possibilities replacing everything they learned in school that day.

Where was he? Over here? Over there? He would sometimes peek out with his twitchy, little ears before giggling away in a sprint. Rumble was sure to catch him this time. All he had to do was take the shortcut through the tire swings and tackle him from the flank. He'd been working on it for weeks and now, tumbling with Ziggs, it was his turn to count.

He had many soldiers on his side, but Ziggs was crafty. Or cheating. They hummed down at the makeshift chessboard with washers for footmen and bolts for the cavalry. Queen Cog-on-a-Stick was quick to do away with the tyrannical King Spring Pin as he was tossed aside with a wide grin.

"Checkmate!"

"You big cheater! Do-over!" Rumble chased after him, knocking everything and everyone out of their way.

Up and down, up and down, the springs beneath their feet bounced them higher and higher until their heads were as light as the clouds they reached for. Always the daredevil, Ziggs sported his own tricks and spins on the bed. Always the defiant, Rumble topped him with his own handstands.

3…2…1…GO! They released the cars down the steep, disheveled hill, watching them fumble over and nearly break apart by the time they reached the base. Who would win? Whoever it was got bragging rights for Best Inventor of the Year for the rest of the day and Rumble couldn't afford to lose, but it looked like Ziggs was going to brag the whole way home. Then, a marvelous idea sparked between them.

Rumble lifted himself over the rim of the rusty bathtub, snapping his goggles over his eyes and giving Ziggs a smile with a thumbs up. At the helm, the other nodded at they looked over that same steep hill. It was sure to be a bumpy ride, but getting to the moon would be no easy feat.

"All engines are good!" Rumble called over their loud, imaginary revving.

"Wings set to Fly Mode! Ready for takeoff!" Ziggs kicked away the only plank of wood left holding them up.

Slowly they teetered, rocking back and forth until gravity took hold. They screamed in terror and delight as their world whisked by like the wind, every point and pivot shaking the tub violently. This was it; they were going to crash! That is, if it wasn't for the metal sheets and wooden planks lining the ramp at the bottom. Ziggs turned the disconnected wheel to no avail and Rumble held onto the sides tightly. Though it didn't work as intended, the ramp at least slowed their descent enough to smash into innumerable shards. The tub rolled along the ground in such a way that no mother would approve of. Dumping the yordles out, the two gazed up at the orange and pink sky.

And they laughed and laughed and laughed.

The sun was kissing the treetops good night as it dragged its orangey veil with it. Atop the tallest heap of junk did the two tired yordles sit, gazing out at the endless horizon.

"Hey, we should bring in our new invention to class and show everyone. It'll scare the pants off 'em!" Ziggs smiled, contrast to Rumble's sorrowful eyes.

"You can do that. I won't be there," he replied solemnly.

"Are you playing hooky again?"

"Yeah. Forever."

"Huh?"

"I'm not going back to school. What's the point anyway?"

"Your mom and dad will get mad at you, I bet!"

"Beats going to school. All I do is get picked on and kicked around! I don't wanna go back! I

don't wanna!" he slammed his hands down on the hollow metal between his legs that panged with the tears that followed.

"But—"

"Because…" he sniffled, "…because I'm scared."

Ziggs couldn't find the right words to say to his sobbing friend, looking around him as if they were somewhere within reach. One like the other yet treated so differently. But they were scared of him; he could tell. Maybe, just maybe…

"Well, don't be!" Ziggs suddenly shouted.

Rumble wiped his confused eyes dry, "What…?"

"Hey, nobody likes me, either! But they don't touch me. Maybe 'cause they're scared of me. So, if I'm around you, they'll be too scared to do anything! It's the perfect plan!"

"You can't just follow me everywhere. Stupid."

"Oh yeah? Watch me! Haha!"

Despite his adolescent mind, Rumble thought it impossible. Yet, a part of him trusted Ziggs to keep his word. So, he tucked his knees in and the tears stopped.

"…hey, Ziggs."

"Yeah?"

"...how long are you gonna follow me around for?"

Ziggs hummed, "I guess as long as you need me around!"

Rumble rolled his eyes, "That could be forever at this rate..."

"Even better!"