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Arcane: TTB: Ch. 101
🕑 Added 2025-07-10 19:23:52 +0000 UTC"She's doing everything she can to stop me from learning the truth about the real world."
Caitlyn sighed. Compared to most people who spent all their time cooped up in laboratories, she had seen more of the outside world. Her exceptional investigative instincts gave her a subtle sense that Piltover was hiding something shockingly dark.
The cases that crossed her desk, the reports that mysteriously disappeared, the testimonies that were suddenly "unavailable," likely systematic cover-ups at the highest levels.
That's why she insisted on joining the Enforcers, to uncover the truth. But her mother constantly used her influence to obstruct her, reassigning her to safer districts, blocking her access to certain files, ensuring she remained sheltered from Piltover's uglier realities.
"Well, at least you get to sit in the front row for the speech."
Jayce was clearly excited to share the good news.
The Council had decided that he would give the Progress Day keynote speech this year.
"Speech?"
Caitlyn turned around, a bit puzzled. She'd been so focused on her cases that she'd barely kept track of the city's ceremonial events.
"I'll be delivering the keynote address tonight."
Jayce raised his arm proudly. To give the Progress Day speech was a great honor, it required both public and council recognition as a top scientist in Piltover. In past years, Heimerdinger had always delivered it. But ever since his disappearance, the position had remained vacant, as no one else was deemed worthy of filling such prestigious shoes.
Now that he had been chosen, it meant his achievements were fully acknowledged, and his name would forever be recorded in the history of Piltover.
"Mm, I guess things really are changing."
Caitlyn understood the weight of the moment and smiled genuinely. Despite her own frustrations with the system, she couldn't help but be proud of her friend's success.
"Hope you catch a few drunkards tonight!"
Jayce joked again, and Caitlyn rolled her eyes with a playful groan as they parted ways.
Time was tight, he needed to start preparing for the speech that would define his career.
---
That evening, in the banquet hall of the estate of the House Medarda, Piltover's elite gathered in full splendor. Servers in crisp uniforms moved between clusters of the city's most influential figures. Glasses clinked, laughter flowed, it was such a harmonious affair.
Mel stood alone on the balcony, gently swirling her glass of red wine. She gazed at the distant sunset, lost in thought as the sky transformed from gold to crimson.
The banquet's true purpose was to raise funds for her family, though most guests remained blissfully unaware of the Medardas' desperate circumstances.
Ever since her mother left Piltover years ago, she had once again become the House Medarda's public face. This responsibility had fallen to her by default, not by choice.
With Camille retreating into the background after recent setbacks, the Clan Ferros had taken a major hit in power, and Mel had returned to being the most influential public figure in Piltover. But she knew it was all for show. The true power in Piltover still rested with Camille, whose influence extended far beyond what most people realized.
Meanwhile, her own family was in serious crisis. Not long ago, her mother had sent her a coded message, she would soon return to Piltover with the remaining Medarda forces, and Mel needed to be ready for whatever storm followed.
The thought made her chuckle bitterly.
The irony was almost poetic.
She, the outcast who had once been personally driven out by her own mother, had now become the last pillar holding up the family name. But it wasn't really funny. The Medarda faction was already fragmented and weakened, their allies scattered or dead. If not for a warning from Swain, delivered through channels she preferred not to think about, her brother might have already been assassinated by their enemies.
She was, after all, a Medarda. Putting emotions aside, if the family were truly destroyed, their enemies would never spare her. Blood ties were both protection and condemnation in equal measure.
"The fundraising is going well. Your mother would be proud."
Elora approached, delivering the good news.
"Is that so?"
The good news did little to cheer her up, feeling more like a band-aid on a severed artery. She knew full well that this money would do little to influence the greater game being played. At most, it could help the Medardas run away slightly faster when the inevitable reckoning came.
"Feeling a bit tired?"
Elora noticed Mel's low mood and asked with concern, though she didn't know what Mel was truly worried about.
"There's nothing left to talk about with these people. The only one worth my time now… is him."
Mel glanced at the noble guests behind her with barely concealed disinterest, then shifted her gaze to the large airship in the distance bearing Jayce's image. The sight of his face on the promotional banners softened her expression.
"The Golden Boy." Elora chimed in, knowing well the connection between Mel and Jayce, though she suspected there was more strategy than romance in her mistress' interest.
"He's the rising star of Piltover now. The question is whether he can handle the pressure that comes with it."
Mel sighed with emotion.
"Here comes our Golden Boy now."
Elora turned around and saw Jayce entering the banquet hall. His formal attire was impeccable, but his expression was slightly tense. She raised her hand to signal him over.
As Jayce stepped into the hall, the nobles who had been laughing and chatting moments ago quickly changed their expressions. None of them were particularly fond of him, he was known for constantly getting in the way of their money-making ventures with his idealistic notions about ethics and progress. But he didn't care about their disapproval. He ignored them completely and walked straight toward Mel.
"May I have a word with you?"
He spoke beside Mel and then started walking away, expecting her to follow.
The presumption would have been insulting from anyone else, but Mel found his confidence oddly endearing. She gave Elora a meaningful look, then followed Jayce out of the main hall.
Elora remained alone on the balcony, sipping red wine with a thoughtful expression as she watched the theater continue below.
---
"What's going on?"
Mel brought Jayce into a private lounge, closing the door behind them to ensure their conversation remained confidential.
"It's about tonight's speech."
Jayce looked hesitant, clearly torn over a difficult decision.
"Having trouble deciding something?" Mel asked, reading his expression. He was refreshingly transparent compared to most politicians, well, he wasn't a politician to begin with.
"The council's notice came too suddenly, I wasn't prepared for this level of scrutiny. I'm supposed to talk about our lab's latest results tonight, but I don't know if I should."
The hesitation deepened on Jayce's face. While the lab's results were meant to protect Piltover, the weapons they developed were incredibly destructive. Even if that wasn't the intention, he knew well enough by now, the Council would not hesitate to exploit them for their own purposes.
"Just what kind of invention has you this conflicted?"
"Delegates from all over the world came just to see what new miracles our City of Progress has created."
"If there's ever a right time to unveil something new, it's tonight."
Mel walked up to Jayce and gently adjusted the collar of his slightly rumpled formalwear.
"It's a set of ultimate defensive weapons I developed to protect Piltover, the Hextech Wyvern and the Hextech Mecha-Dragon."
"The Hextech Wyvern is already in the stability testing phase. As for the Mecha-Dragon, it uses three linked Hex gemstones as a power source, I'm still figuring out a way to make the energy system sustainable without catastrophic feedback. Both weapons are extremely powerful. The Mecha-Dragon, in particular, was designed to face massive armies like Noxus' or to combat powerful mages."
Jayce's eyes were filled with worry. It had only just dawned on him, revealing such a weapon might trigger an arms race that Piltover wasn't prepared for.
And once word got out, every nation would want their own version.
"You've done an incredible job. We may face serious threats at any moment. Piltover needs a forward-thinking leader, someone like you."
Mel's eyes sparkled with approval. The more power Jayce had in his hands, the happier she was, both for personal and strategic reasons.
She wasn't worried about the undercity of Zaun, Cipher seemed content to focus on internal development. She was wary of Camille, whose agenda remained frustratingly opaque.
From fragments of information her mother had revealed, she already suspected that the power behind Camille was the same force that had long opposed her family.
And she had no fondness for assassins like Camille, whose methods were as elegant as they were ruthless.
"You really think I'm ready for this?"
Jayce took a deep breath, finding it hard to believe Mel truly saw him as leadership material. He had always felt he fell short compared to her, despite both being council members nominally leading Piltover.
"Hextech has the potential to change the world, and you've already proven that with the Hexgates. But these weapons you're developing in your lab, if they're meant to protect Piltover, then you must not reveal them to the public. You have to keep full control over them. If they fall into the wrong hands, it would be a disaster beyond imagination."
"You know this, not every family in Piltover values peace over profit. The Clan Ferros may have lost influence, but Camille's power is still very much alive. Don't worry about funding. I'll support you fully, both personally and through my family's resources. Tonight, just say something else. Give people a reason to be excited about Hextech's peaceful applications. I'll take care of the other Hextech investors."
Mel cupped Jayce's face in her hands.
"Okay."
Jayce nodded in agreement, swallowing hard.
The burden was enormous. Maybe it was time to accept that mature guidance he'd been offered.
The lights around them dimmed obediently on their own.
