The scene is something like a domain or a pocket dimension, filled with the distant ticking of giant clocks and the clicking of massive cogwheels as if they were clockwork machines of immeasurable dimensions. But the occupants simply call it the Room of Silence.
Actually, calling this place a room is a bold comparison at best. True, in the center of the seemingly endless void of space, or at least the space between universes, is this partially transparent platform-like floor. Except, whichever direction you look, you will see in the distance the wheels, gears, mechanisms, and other parts of the aforementioned clockwork as they do their work. The clear dominant feature on the horizon is this massive clock face with its hands. However, you will have difficulty finding the normal twelve-hour time on them, because these clocks showed data beyond the limitations that are understandable to ordinary mortals. As far as this dial is concerned, it somehow throws a reflection of itself on the seemingly endless floor.
In the middle of that floor was a lord's room without walls or a roof. In other words, it was a collection of high-quality handwork furniture arranged like a high-class club room for a group of nobles, like gentlemen and ladies. A central low conference-looking tea table is surrounded by couch armchairs arranged in a ring. On the second ring is an even bigger couch and other furniture like a bookcase, a tea-making corner, a bar with bottles and glasses, a cabinet, and a plain dining table with chairs. Additionally, in this ring is even a globe that did not depict a planet but the universe itself. It is a curious setting, how all of this is arranged around that low conference table that gives out a feeling of importance during a serious conference.
This conference was already attended by several figures spread throughout the place. They looked like they were cut out from the golden age of industrial gentlemanly Britain, or they very much liked the aesthetic and fashion of that era. Several of them looked old with beards and such; others looked like they already had enough elite experiences to have the right to stay there. Some were reading a book, or newspaper, or writing something down. Others were enjoying tea or wine. But, no matter where you sat or stood, you had a perfect view of the giant clock in question.
A little away from the central area, there is a third ring, very sporadically filled with lonely wooden frames with doors, alone in a space without walls or other obstacles as if they led nowhere. As soon as one of those doors opened, a figure galloped out of it, hurrying to the central area.
This newcomer looked like a young male official, freshly attending a meeting of an aging board of directors, which was more like a Friday after-work hangout in a club with friends and acquaintances than an official meeting. Of course, the new arrival was not in a good mood. As he stood in the central circle, he began to scold them. "Gentlemen! May I ask you: What is your laziness supposed to mean? How come you're sitting here when there's that outside?!" Everybody raised their heads.
With a forceful gesture, he pointed at the distant horizon. There was a group of clouds of the temporal storm lazily spreading through the vast space. One could argue that this weather event already surrounded the sphere of the oasis of peace and silence, the center of this conference-like sitting. These clouds on the horizon passed through the mechanism and gears. As those were still working and spinning, the clouds were shaped and directed by the mechanisms like a riverbed in a canyon. Here and there, you could notice from the clouds a violet discharge of unbound energy or lightning flashing between them.
However, despite the young man's objections, the elders did not lose their slow composure.
The eldest of them, sitting on a particularly old armchair, put down his cup of tea on that tea table and spoke fatherly to him: "Dear friend, you are too young and eager to prove to yourself that you are worthy of a place among us. Your desire blinds you to see that you are trying to throw yourself into an endless job that has no meaning. Such a storm will naturally occur from time to time. The experience of the elders says: Whatever we decide to do about it, it will be as futile an effort as if we literally did nothing. Let me explain to you that it is not the fight itself that is the hardest part of war, but the waiting for the fight to happen. This storm is not our fight. However, cleaning up after it will be our struggle. So don't try to waste your energy hopping around in place before your time to act even arrives. Do that, and you'll be exhausted when we actually need your energy." He pointed to an empty chair. "Come on! Sit down! Have something to calm your spirit! Because when this storm passes, like the others before it and after it, after we divide the tasks, we won't meet here anytime soon. At the same time, it is useless to divide the work before we know the total extent of what was done. Repairing something, just to see it break the moment you turn away, again and again, is not a pleasant experience."
As the others nearby patted the given empty chair to motivate the young man to sit in it, the oldest of them, realizing the youngster's indignation and internal conflict, allowed himself to say more. "You are not the only one who feels that the storm is uprooting the very work that our company has been working on for so long. Everyone here feels the same flame in their heart, just like you, eager to set on fire their fireplace of desire to do something. Except if I compare that desire to cooking, then in order to prepare a good soup, it is necessary that we sometimes lower the flame under the pot. So you too, if you want to get the job done properly, you have to reduce your own flame of desire. Then you don't get burned out somewhere along the way, and you don't let your work remain unfinished. That's what none of us want, including you. None will intend to forgive that mistake to itself." Once again, he gestured to the chair before returning to his cup. "Besides, the Silence will not fall so easily. Not when we are here."
The young man reluctantly sat down in the given chair and restlessly tried to settle down in it. But when his gaze rested on the giant dial on the horizon, he froze for a moment as if spellbound. Normally, the information there would not make any sense. But there were a few who were able to see beyond and actually read from it everything properly. Then, those who attended that conference could see on his face that the newcomer understood what the old one tried to say.
And so, the whole group stayed there, waiting for the storm to pass. Awaiting the arrival of their time to act.