Silco casually picked up a compass to examine. "An enamel dial crafted in Demacia, with a flywheel movement... This represents the pinnacle of their artisans' skill. It took me considerable effort to acquire it."
Singed remained silent, simply watching as Silco spoke to himself.
"And this pocket watch—it's a proud masterpiece from the upper city's noble families. Rumor has it the case is made from the shell of a Brackern... though only the size of a fingernail."
Silco gently wiped away the fine dust on the pocket watch. Through the crystal casing, the intricate mechanical structure inside was clearly visible. Though crafted three or four decades ago, thanks to meticulous care, the silver-white movement remained pristine, emitting a crisp tick-tock as it operated.
"Mr. Silco..." Singed hesitated, as if wanting to say something.
"So, you plan to use these decades-old scraps of metal to replicate that puppet called 'Herta' from the Celestial Screen?" Silco tossed the pocket watch into the pile of metal junk and sighed. "You should know—the technology displayed in that Celestial Screen is beyond anything we could achieve in our lifetime."
Everything you're doing is just futile. Silco kept the thought to himself, not wanting to be too blunt and hurt the professor's feelings.
At first, he too had coveted the technology from the Celestial Screen, especially after witnessing Silver Wolf's reality-altering abilities. He couldn't help but feel greedy. But once he realized the insurmountable gap between what was shown in the Celestial Screen and the reality of the undercity, he decisively gave up.
To him, such an endeavor was no different from a moth flying into flames—spending the limited time of one's life trying to bridge an unbridgeable technological chasm was anything but wise.
"I understand what you mean," Singed nodded, but then added, "But without even this much pursuit, I wouldn't have achieved what I have today."
"Before working with you, I was also a scientist."
Silco didn't press further. Having collaborated with Singed for years, he knew the professor's temperament well.
Slowly rising to his feet, he brushed off the alchemical dust clinging to his clothes. Before leaving the lab, he glanced back at Singed and murmured, "I'm sorry, Professor... but this hobby of yours—I may not be able to support it much longer. Of course, if you'd like to use these mechanics to research new weapons, that's a different matter."
With that, the burly men accompanying Silco slammed the lab door shut behind him.
The noisy lab returned to silence. The ticking of the red-copper clock hanging on the wall mingled with the fading footsteps—nothing else could be heard.
Once Silco and his entourage were gone, Singed walked alone to a hidden door in the lab. Opening it, he revealed a cramped little room.
Unlike the chaotic lab, this small space was meticulously clean and warmly furnished, like a young girl's bedroom. A worn-out teddy bear sat beside a large mechanical pod at the center, as if keeping watch over something.
Singed approached the pod carefully, shifting his gaze from the buttons on its surface to the transparent hatch. The moment he saw the girl inside, his clouded eyes trembled faintly.
—Unlike an ordinary person, the girl's serene face reflected a metallic sheen.
"Before becoming a scientist... I was also a father."
Silco had only guessed part of his intentions.
From the very beginning, Singed had never intended to perfectly replicate a puppet as intricate as "Herta." Such flawless, lifelike puppets were beyond the capabilities of Zaun... or even Piltover. No matter how confident he was in his alchemical research, he hadn't lost the rationality and self-awareness of a scientist.
But catching a glimpse of Herta's near-perfect appearance and poise had given him inspiration.
For now, he hadn't considered applying puppet technology to large-scale warfare and slaughter.
But if it could be used on Orianna—if his daughter could possess the lively, vivid form of Herta, if she could open her eyes and look at him...
He would give everything for that.
——
[On the Celestial Screen, Himeko smiled warmly at Stelle and invited, "Stelle... Did you know you have another option? There's an Astral Express parked at the platform. If you're willing, you could come with us."]
["The Express has dealt with Stellarons before. What worries you is also the answer we seek. Besides..." Himeko paused, glancing at Herta, who stood with her hands on her hips beside her, "...we can always come back and let Herta run her tests. She's quite eager right now."]
[Herta nodded in agreement with Himeko's suggestion. After all, her interests came and went quickly.]
[Just as Stelle was about to respond, Himeko told her there was no rush for an answer—she could take her time to meet whoever she wanted before deciding.]
[But the moment Himeko finished speaking, Stelle's phone buzzed. A message from Herta popped up:]
[Herta: "Hey, Stelle, it's Herta. Got something good for you. Come to my office ASAP! Waiting!"]
["?"]
[Stelle blinked in confusion, looking at Herta, who was standing right in front of her, then silently replied with a question mark. The chattering puppet before her suddenly fell silent, motionless.]
[Stelle: "You're right here. Can't you just tell me directly?"]
[Herta: [Auto-reply] Hello, I'm currently unavailable. I won't be contacting you later either.]
[Stelle: "Uh... What's going on?"]
["I see you got Herta's message." Himeko smiled faintly, glancing at the Herta puppet beside her. "As you can see, Herta communicates remotely through her puppets. But this isn't her only one—she's placed many throughout the station. Whenever something needs handling, she logs into the nearest puppet for remote control. Very convenient."]
["If I recall correctly..." Himeko pondered briefly, "...she has over 200 puppets scattered across the station. You'll run into them everywhere you go."]
"Over 200?!" Stark's jaw dropped. "If there were just a few more, you could form an entire puppet army to take on the Demon King's forces!"
Fern studied Herta's puppet closely and shook her head. "These puppets don't seem combat-ready at all. And who knows what they're made of—if they got damaged, Ms. Herta would probably be upset, right?"
As she spoke, Fern noticed Stark propping his chin on his hand, staring intently at Herta's puppet.
"Lord Stark? What are you thinking about?"
"Ah, I was just wondering..." A look of longing crossed Stark's face. "If Ms. Herta could just give me one of these puppets..."
Before he could finish, Frieren, sitting beside Fern, felt the room's temperature drop sharply.
This is bad.
Stark, oblivious as ever, didn't notice the disdain in Fern's eyes.
The evening breeze from the window tousled her long hair, stirring a sour feeling in the heart of this little purple "shroom." She didn't want to say another word.
"Fern?" The dense Stark finally sensed something was off.
But it was too late.
Fern turned her body away, puffing her cheeks in irritation.
"...Pervert."