The door creaked open as Professor Heimerdinger gently pushed it inward, revealing the chaos inside Tarren's room. Scraps of metal, unused cogs, and half-assembled mechanisms littered every surface. The once-neatly organized shelves now bore the brunt of six months' worth of ceaseless tinkering.
At the far corner, Tarren hunched over a desk, entirely engrossed in his work. His hands flew across a chalkboard mounted at an angle, sketching out the intricate details of what looked like a machine's inner workings.
Heimerdinger cleared his throat, the sound echoing faintly in the cluttered space. "Good morning, Tarren," he greeted warmly.
The boy jolted, spinning his chair around, wide-eyed. Upon seeing Heimerdinger, he relaxed, though his sheepish grin betrayed his surprise. "Professor! Sorry, I didn't hear you come in."
Heimerdinger chuckled softly, his bushy mustache twitching with amusement. "Quite understandable, given how absorbed you seem to be in your work. I must say, you've been quite the industrious one these past six months. But even the sharpest minds require a break now and then, hmm?"
"I'll keep that in mind," Tarren replied with a slight nod, though it was clear he had no intention of slowing down anytime soon. "Uh, professor, I have something to show you." He stood and crossed the room, stepping over a pile of discarded gears. Reaching for a chalkboard that had been flipped to its blank side, he turned it to reveal the sketched plans on the other side.
"I got an idea from the talk we had last time," Tarren said, gesturing to the design. "You know, about doing long calculations and how we have to wipe half the board away sometimes just to continue it…"
Heimerdinger adjusted his glasses, peering intently at the intricate diagrams. His eyes widened as he stroked his mustache in thought. "Oh my… you've certainly outdone yourself this time."
Tarren rummaged through a nearby box, pulling out a contraption that looked almost too complicated to function. Gears and levers protruded from its base, punch cards slotted neatly into compartments, and a row of dials and switches adorned the front. He placed it carefully on the desk.
"This," Tarren began, "is a calculation engine. It can solve basic equations—multiplication, percentages, and stuff like that. It's not going to handle anything too complicated, but for simple calculations, it's pretty fast. I thought it might be useful, since… Well, math gets annoying sometimes. I just used switches that act as logic gates to control what it is calculating."
Heimerdinger approached the machine, his curiosity piqued. "Annoying, you say?" he mused, running a hand over the polished exterior.
He pressed one of the switches and began inputting a basic multiplication equation using the dials. The machine whirred softly, and within moments, the result appeared on a small panel. Heimerdinger's eyes lit up.
"Incredible!" he exclaimed. He grabbed a piece of chalk and calculated the same equation manually on the blackboard, the process taking far longer. When the results matched, he turned back to Tarren, his expression one of sheer amazement. "My boy… this… was merely a thing you made so you would be more convenient while counting?"
Tarren shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Figured it might be handy. You can take it, professor. I have another one for myself."
Heimerdinger shook his head, still marveling at the device. "The intricacies, the precision… How did you manage to construct something so fine? I doubt the blacksmiths and artisans of Piltover could make the parts of these machines so easily."
Tarren stiffened, his heart skipping a beat. He couldn't exactly tell the professor about his ferromancy. Scrambling for an explanation, he said, "Oh, I had some friends back in the undercity help me out with the smaller parts."
Heimerdinger nodded thoughtfully. "Talented friends indeed. I would very much like to meet them someday."
Tarren laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Maybe… someday."
The professor's expression brightened as he remembered the purpose of his visit. "Ah, but I didn't come here just to marvel at your inventions, Tarren. I came to discuss your future."
"My future?" Tarren echoed, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes," Heimerdinger said, clasping his hands behind his back. "While your passion for invention is commendable, one must also consider practicality. To sustain your endeavors, you'll need to market your creations. Innovation, after all, thrives when shared with the world."
Tarren frowned slightly. "I get that, but it's not like I can just sell something right now. Don't I have to wait for Progress Day or get a sponsorship from one of the mercantile families?"
Heimerdinger chuckled softly. "Piltover is not as rigid as you may think. You don't need to wait for an occasion or seek formal sponsorship. Sometimes, all it takes is the right connection."
Tarren tilted his head, unsure. "So you would… help me?"
The professor beamed. "Indeed, I can't just leave one of my pupils hanging. The council has many members who would be most interested in your work. Not to mention, one of my former pupils has ties to one of Piltover's high houses. All you need to do is prepare a proposal and perfect one of your designs."
Tarren pondered for a moment before nodding. "Maybe the coin sorter? It's simple, but it works."
"An excellent choice, but bring more than that. Who knows? They might be interested in more than one product." Heimerdinger agreed. "Polish them up, and I shall arrange a meeting for you with the appropriate people."
With that, he picked up the calculation engine, cradling it with the care of someone holding a priceless artifact. "I'll be borrowing this then. Rest assured, it will be put to good use."
He turned to leave but paused at the door. "Remember, Tarren, the path to success is paved with diligence and determination. Keep at it."
As the door clicked shut, Tarren exhaled deeply, turning back to his cluttered workspace. The room was silent once more. He reached for his tools, his fingers brushing against the worn edges of the coin sorter prototype that he kept in one of the shelves, before taking another blank paper to redraw the entire thing.