THE GROWN UP

Fifty years ago...

A morning in New Piltover started with a blast. A literal blast.

At noon, a loud bang at the table was heard, slightly startling the Yordle councillor and his prominent mustache as another mustache - this time belonging to a human in fashionable attire and glasses - roared at Heimerdinger as if he were the very responsible for the deed. Yet he wasn't.

"The entire East Wing, gone!", the mustached man kept roaring. "Shimuran tapestry! Priceless antiquities! MY GREAT-GRANDFATHER'S PORTRAIT! THE SECOND GENERATION OF HOUSE HOLLORAN, BURIED IN THE RUBBLE!"

"Now, Lord Barkin, I understand your frustration at-", Heimerdinger asked.

"Frustration!?", Barkin growled, incredulous. "FRUSTRATION!? Do you know who I AM!? You should be thankful I haven't complained to the other nobles as of yet, Councillor! That protege of yours said this would clear out my chimneys!"

"I will talk to him.", Heimerdinger replied, trying to keep his composure.

"Talk!", Barkin spat. "You should be doing a lot more than 'talk'! I would if I were you!"

"I said I will talk to him, Lord Barkin!", Heimerdinger stood firmly.

"Be careful.", Barkin said, in a menacing tone, pointing at him. "You may be a Councillor and the founder of this city, but that can change, depending on how it goes! And you KNOW I'm not alone in this!"

Barkin turned around to leave, in fumes. Heimerdinger looked at the Council's table for a moment, taking a breath, before his very frustration took hold of him and he smacked the table himself with both his fists, and immediately darting off the chair to outside the chambers and towards the majestic halls of the Council, where he stopped by a particular door with charcoal marks in them, almost ruining the door's decor.

He opened it to reveal a compact lab, barely lit by the sunlight, perhaps the most disorganized one ever - pieces strewn about, the workbench full of materials, including set up chemistry equipment, some junk scattered about on the floor. And the very smell of things burning that has become the trademark of that spot, the Yordle Councillor himself doubted it'd ever come out.

And there it was, the back the very caramel-colored Yordle whom was sitting by a stool, working on whatever destructive contraption he had in mind, now.

And the room was pretty loud, booming with opera whose sound waves shook most of the equipment piled precariously. Heimerdinger walked to the gramophone and turned it off.

"Unbelievable, Ziggmund!", Heimerdinger yelled. "Simply unbelievable! Of all the people in Piltover to try and peddle that volatile chemical composite of yours, a nobleman! Have you any idea of the fallout I was just met with!? Of course not, you let the sound muffle all the issues ringing alarms concerning your racketry!"

Ziggs did not turn, almost as if he did not listen.

"It's already problematic enough that I had to take most of the heat for those inquiries of yours in the open!", Heimerdinger vented. "I've never seen the people of this city growing so paranoiac, exactly the opposite of...", the Councillor noticed the scientist still with his back turned on Heimerdinger, and that ticked him. "ARE YOU EVEN USING YOUR AUDITIVE CAPACITIES!?"

Ziggs finally turned around, staring at Heimerdinger, only instead of angry, or nervous or even giving that unsettling smile, he looked rather dumbfounded. "Why'd you stop the music, Professor?", he asked, gesturing to the gramophone. "I was doing research on that."

"It's Councillor to you! And don't you change the topic of inquiry, Ziggmund.", Heimerdinger warned. "I have already lost count of the times I warned you about that Pyro-Gel of yours!"

"I told him to use only a pinch.", Ziggs spoke firmly, in reassurance. "Did he use only a pinch? Did he use only a pinch, did you ask him if he used only a pinch?", he then waited for Heimerdinger's answer. None came. "And how am I to blame in this, except in only selling it to him?"

"Don't you dare trivialize it as a mere mishap from the user!", Heimerdinger retorted, angry. "And your product doesn't even have a safety warning label!"

"Oh, you mean this one?", Ziggs asked, as he picked up a flask from the desk and threw it towards Heimerdinger, whom instinctively picked up to avoid it crashing into the ground and detonating it, along with the whole western wing of Piltover's council.

As Heimerdinger, breathing fast at the triggered reflex, looked at the flask, he noticed the front label, 'Pyro-Gel - Cleaniness in a Flash' and another label behind it, which read 'Highly volatile product. Vendors are NOT obligated to assume responsibility for client's misuse'.

"Nevertheless!", the Yordle councillor started, placing the flask at the gramophone's table. "It doesn't change the fact that perhaps you should have sold it to someone else!"

"He came to me. He asked me for the Gel.", Ziggs replied, almost growing in enthusiasm. "Oh, I should've been there to see it, I bet the colors were beautiful!"

"What colors, except the same hot fiery orange!?", Heimerdinger asked.

"Of course you don't appreciate it...", Ziggs muttered.

"There are other things to appreciate than explosions, Ziggmund, I told you this a thousand-fold!", Heimerdinger retorted. "All of Piltover is there to provide you that, options for appreciation."

"Exactly, so can you please turn the music back on?", Ziggs asked. "I want to get back on my research."

"Research on what? More explosive contraptions?", the Yordle Councillor asked, in sarcasm.

"You can call them 'alternative percussion instruments', if you like.", Ziggs answered, smiling wider. "I'm noting the times of the drums here and see how explosions can be applied in harmony with the musicians. If done right, the concert could be a blast."

"What?", Heimerdinger asked, not believing he was hearing exactly that. "Explosive ordnance in a musical concert!? What person would have ever have the gall to attempt such a travesty- excluding you, of course, Ziggmund!? What is wrong with you!?"

"There's nothing wrong, I'm working here.", Ziggs answered, shrugging. "Researching. While you just shout all around for no reason."

"There are other venues and you know it!", Heimerdinger retorted, angry, prompting Ziggs to groan.

"Maybe I just want to blow something up and make something out of it!", the bomb scientist retorted, almost in frustration. "Something to spice this boring place up! It makes me feel comfortable, it scratches my itch! I just want to scratch my itch! Is that too much to ask!?"

Heimerdinger's mouth remained open for a few seconds in disbelief. "Did you realize you just spoke like a psychopath?", he asked, as he looked to the side for a moment and Ziggs returned his attention to the desk.

"Better a psychopath than a sycophant...", Ziggs murmured, shrugging.

"Excuse me!?", Heimerdinger asked, returning his glance to Ziggs, offended.

"Oh, look, a little bird!", Ziggs shouted, in enthusiasm, pointing at a lone window to the office which provided some sunlight, where the said bird was. "It's been a while since I saw one around here."

The said bird then flew off. Heimerdinger was about to shout something, but he stopped himself and rubbed his temples and then his eyes, as Ziggs returned to the bench to review his notes. The Yordle Councillor took a deep breath. "Ziggmund, how many times are we to go through this?", he asked. "The Merchant Nobles of Piltover are precious patrons. All of this happened due to their contributions. Their contributions also help your research, if you only took a notice."

"And do I not?", Ziggs asked, looking upwards in annoyance. "Else, as you said, I would have sold it to someone else. In fact, I can very well ask what is wrong with you."

"With me?", Heimerdinger asked, startled.

"Yes, you!", Ziggs turned around, leaving the stool and walking to the Yordle Councillor. "I've never picked on your doings, despite me having every reason to do it, and yet you do with mine at every chance!"

"It is dangerous, Ziggmund!", Heimerdinger stood firm.

"It's my passion!", Ziggs retorted. "It may be dangerous, but it won't be safer on it's own! At least I don't leave it behind like you did! Every day I'm seeing less and less of that Yordle I've met on my first day here! Whatever it is you are now, Professor, I don't like it!"

"You think I've chosen to stop being an inventor?", Heimerdinger asked, incredulous. "I am a Councillor! The Founder of Piltover! Lives depend on the decisions I make and of those I have to try to get to make along! It's a responsibility too great to just put it aside for the sake of gadgetry!"

"I remember you treated each one of that gadgetry like a son!", Ziggs blew back.

"And I do.", Heimerdinger said, after a second. "You may not understand, but sometimes the broader scope of the things at stake requires we must sacrifice our passions and dreams. Much as we cannot bear doing it."

"Then why don't you sacrifice this dream of yours, the one you yap constantly about?", Ziggs asked, in irony, gesturing everywhere around him.

"You know why, Ziggmund!", Heimerdinger retorted. "You know how we are treated across the rest of Runeterra! Can you imagine what if you were somewhere else instead of here, with me, who's trying to make this a safer place for our kind? Hunted, jailed, and probably would get carved up so others would know what would make our species tick!"

"Or probably I'd just get my cheeks squeezed.", Ziggs replied a second later, blowing his air off. "It's just that... it's that it just... it sucks to have to hide this all the time, just for people too scared of everything! It'd be better if I just showed it off to all of them, in a big one..."

"Don't even begin to conceptualize such a thought!", Heimerdinger pointed at Ziggs.

"Or what!?", Ziggs asked, in defiance, looking into Heimerdinger's eyes for a moment, and then an expression of dread. "You'd really do that?"

"...I don't believe I'd be able.", Heimerdinger said. "But you are not giving me much tools to patch you with..."

Ziggs and Heimerdinger stared at each other for a while. "Some fresh air wouldn't be bad...", he muttered, a bit defeated, turning around to leave.

"You know I am right.", Heimerdinger stated as his last word, as Ziggs walked off his laboratory and eventually the building.

The afternoon in Piltover's downtown was very much the usual one - the sunlight shining high and bright over the classic buildings, people strolling about, kids playing, either by the corners and the walls, the ornate gardens and trees or the central fountain which Ziggs himself was on his way, clearly frustrated. It seemed as if no one ever understood his passion, what he was trying to convey with his inventions. It was like that in Bandle City, and it clearly like that in the so-called 'City of Progress'.

'Progress when it suits them, apparently...', Ziggs thought to himself, approaching the fountain, sitting down and sighing. He reached for his pockets and took something out of it. Another bomb, but clearly one smaller and with no fuse, with a smiling face doodled in it. He took a long look at it for a while. Some would say he was inspecting it, but it seemed this look was one more of an attachment than something professional.

"I don't know what to do.", Ziggs spoke to the bomb. "It's like no one will ever understand... I'm almost giving up-"

Suddenly, a large, lime-green flash hit the whole square, along with a loud noise and screaming, which also had Ziggs jump, scared, quickly putting the bomb back in his pocket.

"It wasn't me, officer, I swear it!", Ziggs shouted, alarmed, before he heard some laughter and then some applause.

He started looking around for the source of the sounds. They ended up on a group of kids and some adults that were witnessing some masked lady in a coat, just like his, messing with some plants, particularly a cerulean tree-like one with some bulbous spores at the end of the branches. As she poked another one of those spores with a stick on her hand, suddenly the spore reacted and a flash came out of it as it unraveled, releasing it's spores, unveiling a violet, beautiful flower within it. The audience, a bit startled by the sudden flash again, now grew a bit more confident and applauded, smiling and enticed.

Ziggs grew curious, especially as the flashes awakened a memory of his, one he didn't recall, of aeons ago. Of a large flash in his childhood. He walked towards the crowd whom started admiring the other plants as well, especially one which resembled a multi-colored palm tree. As he approached the lab coat figure, he looked at the flower with some wonder as well. How ironic that something so beautiful could come from something so volatile.

"Plants that explode, that's new to me...", Ziggs said, all curious.

"What, explode? Heh, heh, of course not, the Gingko Cycada Spore-tree simply unravels, that is.", the scientist asked, removing her mask and turning around to look at the speaker, taking a while before noticing it was slightly below her. The scientist herself had a light dark skin, with some striking green eyes and a gentle looking face, keeping a smile. "Wait, I think I saw you a couple times around the city..."

"Uh, did you, now?", Ziggs asked, curious and a bit hesitant.

"Yes, the little science type, always walking around with some bombs or another gadget.", the scientist said. "You seemed so focused on your job, you never noticed any plants of mine. Except this one. It was the 'explosion' wasn't it?"

"Uh, mind if I not answer that?", Ziggs asked, returning a nervous smile. "It's that I'm just a little too peculiar."

The scientist simply laughed a bit at that. "And who isn't? We're scientists. Oh, it's okay, silly little thing.", the scientist said. "It's one of my least popular, but I'm glad to see someone took an interest in it. If you'll come with me, I can show a bit more of those."

"Really?", Ziggs asked, surprised.

"Yes, really.", the scientist said. "Maybe I can get you to have some interest in plants with this, explosive furry man."

"Okay, this title seemed a bit off.", Ziggs said, chuckling a bit. "My name is Ziggmund, but you can call me Ziggs."

"Nice to meet you.", the scientist said, "I'm Bruneen Hildengarden, but please, call me Brunny.", she then gestured to a direction. "Shall we?"

Ziggs and Brunny chatted with each other on the way towards her workshop, which happened to house a rather impressive, visible greenhouse atop it. During their chat, Ziggs learned some interesting things from her ventures in plant life, as well as she learned a thing or two concerning his ventures in pyrotechnics, though she seemed a bit more concerned than interested. At least, compared to the others, it was soothing for Ziggs that he could share a bit of his knowledge somewhat guilty-free.

"And they say I'm crazy.", Ziggs commented, as they entered the apartment. "That anything can be destroyed with explosions, that is true, but that anything can be cured with plants? Isn't there a limit?"

"I know, much of polar opposites isn't it?", Brunny asked back. "But think about it - Plants have been a part of any civilization since before fire and wheels. They feed us, they are pretty to look at, some even make the air better. Thus, I believe some plants can indeed be converted into medicine, perhaps of the terminal condition kind. Imagine, a plant to cure anything. Well, almost..."

"I wouldn't expect them to close wounds...", Ziggs commented, both walking upstairs. "Or grow back an arm or a leg."

Brunny laughed, though showing a sign of nervousness. "Of course not, they aren't magical.", she said. "Many of them, anyhow. But they can scar some wounds, cure some illnesses, even soothe some mental pains. They may come in useful, especially for the people in the fissures, if the rumors of the working conditions down there indeed prove true."

Brunny opened the doors to the greenhouse at the second floor, revealing quite a flora, simply devoid of fauna all around - Plants of all shapes and colors imagined, all compacted within such a limited space, with a simple chair and a desk close by, probably where Brunny used it to tend to her plants or experiment with them. Ventilation came from a fan at the highest roof. It made Ziggs slightly embarrassed, given the state of his workshop, by the Council and under Heimerdinger's ever-present scrutiny.

"Almost too much like home...", Ziggs commented.

"You mean the so-called mystical Bandle City?", Brunny asked. "We always thought of it as a myth, it was never properly cartographed, but then you exist. I guess you're just hard to find."

"More by design, really.", Ziggs answered, following Brunny amidst the rows of exotic plants, right towards one by the corner, which he identified as the spore-tree. The very plant he just watched 'unravel' an hour ago. "At least according to my mentor, Heimerdinger..."

"Councillor Heimerdinger?", Brunny asked, in enthusiasm, before starting to try and formulate a question. "Listen, Ziggs, it's too early and everything, but the moment you can, maybe you could...", she then started some gesturing to indicate she and Heimerdinger did want to meet.

Ziggs glanced at her. "I can, no problem.", he answered, shrugging. "Though I wouldn't recommend it. He snores in bed."

"What, no!", Brunny exclaimed. "Maybe an audience with him, to show my works. I heard he likes innovations, so..."

"I can arrange that.", Ziggs answered. "But he still snores."

Ziggs and Brunny laughed out loud as Ziggs mused the spore-tree with a smile. "May I...", he started asking, as Brunny handed him a mask. Clearly it meant inhaling the spokes too close wasn't a bright idea.

Ziggs took the mask and wore it, approaching the spore-tree and slowly reaching out with his hand in anticipation, before his fingers touched it, slightly feeling the texture of the leaves before the plant started reacting, just the way Ziggs saw at the square.

Then as the plant 'unraveled' itself, as Brunny would say it, it unleashed the said green flash which Ziggs simply allowed to wash through him, on which sparked the flash of his childhood, of a large plant that did the same thing. He remembered as he, as a kid, laid down on the ground, as floating things flew around, though he was coughing, but he didn't care as long as they were beautiful.

Just as Ziggs saw it now, the plant exposed itself into a beautiful flower, it's spores flying and raining down harmoniously, almost like snowflakes. The flower standing in grace and beauty.

Where once the sight from a distance had him briefly see the wonder, the close experience, as before, not only returned the memory, but brought something out of him. As if it were an explanation, one which books, speeches or lectures wouldn't bring. One which had to be seen to be believed.

It brought him an epiphany. An epiphany that seeded an idea. One which he only had to show Heimerdinger and all those pesky Piltovan snobs.

Ziggs took his mask off, thanked Brunny, and immediately, ran off, saying he now had work to do, all in a speed which did startle the young botanist lady.