That evening, the most important speech of Progress Day finally arrived after years of anticipation.
Due to Professor Heimerdinger's mysterious disappearance, Piltover had not held this ceremonial address for five years. The event being resumed after such a lengthy hiatus meant that Piltover's Council had finally found a brilliant scientist capable of taking Heimerdinger's place, no small feat, given the yordle's legendary reputation for innovation and wisdom.
Under the attention of the entire city, Jayce stepped onto the grand stage of the Academy auditorium with a faint but confident smile. He stood calmly in the brilliant spotlight, facing the assembled citizens of Piltover and the international dignitaries who had traveled great distances to witness this historic moment.
Although his face still carried a hint of youthful nervousness, he, having been mentored and comforted by the mature and wise Mel, now exuded considerably more composure and self-assurance. As a top scientist and Council member, his powerful presence was on full display for all to see.
"I believe many of you are surprised that I'm the one giving this Progress Day speech. Just like all of you, I only received the official notice from the Council this morning. And to be honest, I wasn't prepared to stand here on this stage tonight."
He shrugged, expressing his helplessness.
His humorous tone was a great opener, making the audience feel closer to him.
Looking out at his mother, Mel, and Caitlyn seated in the front row, all listening attentively to his every word, he seemed to draw strength and confidence from their supportive presence. He gradually found his rhythm and began to truly command the stage.
"I come from an ordinary family. Our small business made hammers and basic tools. The very bricks beneath your feet tonight may well have been laid using implements crafted by my family's hands. Ever since I was young, honestly, no one had particularly high expectations for me."
He deliberately chose to start by discussing his humble background. His family's modest business in Piltover had never been considered especially noteworthy, manufacturing hammers required solid craftsmanship but no revolutionary innovation; it was honest work that anyone could learn.
To many in Piltover's achievement-oriented society, his meteoric rise from such humble beginnings represented a classic success story, a grassroots underdog making it to the very top through pure talent and determination. It was a genuinely inspiring tale of building something magnificent from almost nothing.
The prestigious position he held today had been earned entirely through his own genius and skilled hands, without relying on family connections, inherited wealth, or backdoor political deals.
His willingness to openly discuss his modest origins helped him connect authentically with the vast majority of Piltovans, who came from similar working-class backgrounds.
In fact, it was precisely his extraordinary talent and innovations that had led to Piltover's recent rapid development and technological supremacy, which was exactly why he felt that Cipher's movement was far too extreme and potentially destructive.
He wasn't naive or willfully blind to social problems. Although Cipher hadn't spelled out his ultimate goals explicitly, Jayce could see clearly that the reform movement's true aim was to systematically purge Piltover's established elite through whatever means necessary.
The fundamental problem, from his perspective, was that among Piltover's powerful class weren't only profit-driven capitalists and corrupt bureaucrats, but also genuinely conscientious entrepreneurs who pursued progress for its own sake, Jayce himself being a living example of ethical leadership. So his resistance to the radical reform movement wasn't motivated by protecting his personal seat on the Council or maintaining his own privileges; it was based on his careful reasoning and moral principles.
To his way of thinking, Piltover definitely needed meaningful change, but not the kind of violent purge that Cipher's change seemed to advocate. That approach was too radical, too cruel, and ultimately counterproductive.
---
Meanwhile, inside The Last Drop, a group of Zaun enforcers along with Quiletta were watching Jayce's speech in real time through a concealed wireless transmission device that Viktor had ingeniously constructed.
"He is exaggerating quite a bit," Cipher observed, shaking his head with disapproval. "He received substantial investment from Councilor Kiramman very early in his career. He never really experienced genuine hardship or systematic oppression."
Viktor, who knew Jayce's actual background intimately through years of friendship, was increasingly agreeing with Cipher's critical assessment of his former laboratory partner.
This privileged young man had never truly tasted the bitterness of real hardship. He needed to be confronted with harsh reality to genuinely understand how the world actually worked for most people.
"The timing is perfect. It's time we applied some serious pressure," Cipher said, apparently picking up on Viktor's thoughts as he grinned.
"Powder, notify the Ionian siblings to begin the operation immediately. We don't have any congratulatory gifts to offer our old friend for his grand speech tonight, so instead, let's give him a chance to see Piltover's hidden sins with his own eyes."
"What's the point of living in a beautiful but completely illusory world? A real leader faces reality head-on, no matter how uncomfortable. Time to turn up the heat."
Pouring himself a cup of aromatic tea, he watched the proceedings. He was curious to see how both Jayce and Caitlyn would respond when suddenly confronted with the brutal truth of Piltover's exploitative indentured labor system.
Caitlyn's reaction was relatively easy to predict based on her established moral character, but Jayce represented a complete wild card.
This young man hadn't yet endured the life-changing trials that would truly test his character and convictions. He was still vulnerable to politicians' manipulative moral rhetoric, and his fundamental stance on justice wasn't particularly firm or tested.
"Leave it to me. I've already mapped out the optimal escape route for the siblings and prepared all the necessary equipment."
Powder gave an enthusiastic "OK" gesture with both hands and immediately began contacting the Ionian siblings.
---
Until the start of the mission, the Ionian siblings worked in a factory workshop near the mission objective point, performing menial labor, maintaining basic sanitation, and handling other unpleasant tasks that regular employees refused to do in order to maintain their cover.
While the rest of Piltover celebrated Progress Day as a joyous city-wide holiday with parades and festivities, indentured workers like them were deliberately excluded from any participation in the celebrations.
They still had to work their regular shifts, though the assigned tasks on Progress Day were typically somewhat lighter than their usual brutal routine, mostly odd jobs.
For example, applying thick lubricant to massive machines, scrubbing floors, and hauling heavy bags of industrial trash to disposal sites.
Even the food provided by their overseers was marginally better than usual, not out of any genuine kindness or holiday spirit, but simply to keep the workers from becoming desperate enough to cause serious trouble during such a high-profile public event.
The only small benefit was that since the factory wasn't operating at full capacity and most managers were enjoying their holiday, the guards supervising the indentured workers were considerably more relaxed and inattentive than usual.
As long as the workers didn't slack off too obviously or attempt anything foolish, the guards couldn't be bothered to maintain their usual strict vigilance.
"If you can hear me clearly, nod just slightly," Powder's voice crackled through the tiny, nearly invisible earpieces concealed in their ears.
The siblings were working close together when the transmission came through. Both were initially startled by the unexpected voice but quickly exchanged a meaningful glance and gave subtle nods of acknowledgment.
At some point during their work, a slightly dazed-looking bird had perched itself on the grimy window of the factory, silently observing the two workers.
"Good. Now start planting the butterflies. One in each machine, just one per unit, got it?" Powder continued providing instructions.
Today, the siblings had been specifically assigned to clean and maintain the industrial machines, a task that required them to move freely around the entire workshop, providing perfect cover for planting the bombs.
"Find a chance to get close to the machine near the entrance. Stay ready. When I detonate the bombs, use the chaos and confusion to escape the factory immediately."
This wasn't particularly difficult for the siblings. They had already planned for this crucial moment, intentionally saving the row of machines near the entrance door for their final cleaning assignment.
As they reached the machines positioned by the exit, they began wiping them down with apparent focus, all the while carefully observing the armed guards posted at the doorway from the corners of their eyes.
To prevent any escape attempts by desperate workers, there were four heavily built guards stationed at the entrance, all equipped with riot shields, weighted batons, and electric shock devices.
"You're both too physically weak to fight through them directly. When the explosion happens, immediately drink the shimmer serum."
Powder, accurately estimating the disparity in physical strength between the malnourished siblings and the well-fed professional guards, had decided they would need enhancement to have any chance of success.
The siblings crouched behind the large machines under the pretense of cleaning hard-to-reach areas, using the industrial equipment for cover as they carefully retrieved the shimmer serum vials from hidden pockets in their work clothes.
"Get ready for action. 3, 2, 1…"
BOOM!
Right as Powder finished her countdown, two of her butterfly-shaped explosive devices ignited simultaneously. From the targeted machines erupted massive tongues of fire, and the intense blaze spread with terrifying speed across the workshop.
"Fire! Fire! Run!"
"The whole place is going up! Get out now!"
Panic spread like wildfire through the workshop. The terrified indentured workers, knowing from bitter experience that industrial fires could trap and kill them within minutes, scrambled desperately toward any available exit.
The guards began swinging their batons violently to suppress the chaos, focusing especially on preventing the workers from rushing toward the main entrance in an uncontrolled mob.
"What are you panicking for? Get back there and extinguish the flames! If these expensive machines are destroyed, selling your bodies wouldn't begin to cover the replacement costs!"
The guards knew this particular factory didn't produce highly flammable or explosive materials, so they weren't immediately concerned about losing complete control of the situation. They were simultaneously attempting to suppress the panicking workers while forcing them to risk their lives fighting the spreading fire.
In the confusion and smoke, completely unnoticed by the distracted guards, the Ionian siblings exchanged one final glance, pulled out their shimmer serum vials, removed the caps, and drank them down in one gulp.