The heavy door of the Clockmaker's workshop slammed shut, sealing out the chaos of the Titan and the forest beyond. The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by Astra's uneven breathing and the faint ticking in their chest. Korin leaned against the wall, his sharp eyes scanning the dimly lit interior.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice steady despite the adrenaline still thrumming in the air.
"I don't know," Astra admitted, clutching their chest. "That thing—it knew I was here. It was… hunting me."
"It wasn't hunting you," Korin corrected, pulling a small lantern from his belt and lighting it. The soft glow illuminated the space, revealing walls lined with intricate carvings of gears, stars, and mechanical designs. "It was responding to you. Your Core woke it up, just like the machines in the forest."
"That doesn't make me feel better," Astra muttered, their voice tinged with frustration.
"Good," Korin said bluntly. "Because if the Titan is active, it means the Clockmaker's systems are too. And that means we're running out of time."
---
The workshop was larger than Astra expected, a cavernous space filled with towering shelves of books and blueprints. Massive workbenches dominated the center of the room, their surfaces cluttered with half-finished devices, glowing shards of Aetherium, and rusted tools. At the far end of the workshop, a circular platform stood, its surface engraved with symbols that pulsed faintly with golden light.
"This place is incredible," Astra whispered, running their fingers along a nearby workbench. The carvings on the surface seemed to hum faintly beneath their touch.
"It's also dangerous," Korin said, moving toward a shelf filled with journals. "The Clockmaker didn't leave this place intact out of kindness. If there are answers here, we'll have to tread carefully."
Astra's attention was drawn to the circular platform. The symbols on its surface seemed to shift and shimmer, forming patterns that were almost hypnotic. The ticking in their chest grew louder as they approached, syncing with the rhythm of the glowing light.
"What is this?" Astra asked, reaching out to touch the platform.
"Don't!" Korin's voice snapped like a whip, and Astra froze. He crossed the room quickly, his expression stern. "That's a Chrono-Engraver. It's tied to the flow of time itself. One wrong move, and you could throw us into a loop we'll never escape."
Astra stepped back, their heart—or Core—thudding heavily in their chest. "Why would the Clockmaker build something like this?"
Korin hesitated, his gaze lingering on the platform. "Because he wasn't just an inventor. He was obsessed with time—controlling it, altering it. The Chronosphere was supposed to be his greatest achievement, a device that could reset the timeline and fix humanity's mistakes. But it came at a cost."
"What kind of cost?" Astra asked, their voice barely above a whisper.
Korin sighed and gestured toward a nearby table where a large, leather-bound book sat. "Let's find out."
---
The journal was old, its pages yellowed and fragile. Korin flipped through it carefully, his eyes scanning the spidery handwriting. Astra leaned over his shoulder, their curiosity mingled with unease.
"There," Korin said, pointing to a passage near the center of the book. The text was cramped and difficult to read, but one line stood out: "The key to time lies in the heart of the one who endures."
"That's the same phrase we saw in the forest," Astra said, their pulse quickening.
Korin nodded, his expression grim. "It's part of the prophecy. The Clockmaker believed that time wasn't a straight line—that it could be rewritten. But to do that, he needed a Key."
Astra's stomach twisted. "You think I'm the Key."
"I don't think," Korin said, his voice low. "I know."
He flipped to another page, revealing a detailed sketch of a Clockwork Core. It was almost identical to the device Astra had seen in their visions, with intricate gears and glowing Aetherium veins. Beneath the drawing was a single sentence: "The Core will endure when all else fails."
Astra stared at the page, their chest tightening. "Why me? Why would he put this thing in me?"
"I don't know," Korin admitted, his tone softer now. "But if the Core is waking up, it means the Clockmaker's systems are activating. And that means someone—or something—is trying to use the Chronosphere."
Astra looked back at the circular platform, their mind racing. "To reset the timeline?"
Korin nodded. "That's my guess. And if they succeed, it won't just erase this city—it'll erase everything."
---
The ground trembled suddenly, a low rumble that sent tools and books tumbling from their shelves. Korin grabbed Astra's arm, his expression sharp. "The Titan must have found a way in. We don't have much time."
"What do we do?" Astra asked, their voice rising with panic.
"We find the Clockmaker's failsafe," Korin said, pulling a small device from his belt. It unfolded into a glowing map, displaying the layout of the workshop. "If he left a way to stop this, it'll be here."
The map highlighted a room at the far end of the workshop. Korin gestured for Astra to follow, his movements quick and precise. They weaved through the cluttered space, the rumbling growing louder with every step.
As they reached the doorway, a deafening roar echoed through the workshop. The Titan's massive frame loomed in the distance, its glowing eyes fixed on the circular platform. Astra's heart—or Core—thudded violently, syncing with the machine's relentless rhythm.
"Korin—" Astra began, but he cut them off.
"Keep moving!" he shouted, shoving them into the room.
The space was smaller than the rest of the workshop, its walls lined with rows of glowing crystals suspended in brass casings. At the center stood a pedestal, upon which rested a small, intricately carved device. Its surface shimmered with golden light, and the faint hum of Aetherium filled the air.
"This is it," Korin said, his voice breathless. "The failsafe."
"What does it do?" Astra asked, their chest tightening.
Korin hesitated, his gaze fixed on the device. "It severs the Core's connection to the Chronosphere. But it comes with a cost."
Astra swallowed hard. "What kind of cost?"
Korin met their gaze, his expression heavy. "If you use it, the Core will lose its power. It'll stop ticking."
"You mean… I'll die," Astra said, their voice trembling.
"Not immediately," Korin said. "But the Core is what's keeping you alive. Without it, you won't last long."
The ground shook again, the Titan's roar reverberating through the walls. Astra looked at the device, their mind racing. "If I don't do this, what happens?"
"The timeline resets," Korin said simply. "And everything we've fought for disappears."
---
Astra's hands shook as they reached for the device. The ticking in their chest was deafening now, a relentless rhythm that filled the room.
"What do I do?" they asked, their voice barely audible.
"Make a choice," Korin said, stepping back. "But make it fast."
--