After I stored the key back in the Inventory, we waited for the start of the Expo.
The entire time, it felt like a thousand needles were prickling my skin. I knew something was coming – I just didn’t know what or when. That made every creak and hiss in the walls or distant clang outside send my heart plummeting into my stomach.
At one point, I even considered sending Trent back to Orlinth.
Clearly, I wasn’t going to stop Valdemar and Erebus in this loop. So wouldn’t it be better to at least get Trent out of harm’s way?
No.
That was the wrong move. And I had to constantly remind myself why. It was just too hard to accept.
Sending Trent home might be a ‘significant change’ that could mark me. And besides, if the world ended after the Divine was breached, all I’d be doing was postponing his death. Nothing more.
So, despite how much it twisted my gut, I kept quiet. I had to accept I couldn’t change anything. Not yet.
And that was hard.
As someone with a constantly running mind – analytical to a fault – overthinking was something I did more than breathing. My thoughts spun through every scenario, every branch possibility, anything and everything, really. Was I even making the same choices I did in the original timeline? Or were things already diverging? And Erebus, Chronos – were they really gods? That couldn’t be it – I still struggled to accept it. It was easier to think of them as just natural forces given shape.
No, that sounded even dumber, and more unrealistic.
“You’re awfully quiet today.” Trent noted. He was stretched out on the floor with a school notebook in hand, doing his homework.
“Aren’t I always like this?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“No. Not really.” He said, glancing up at me. “How long till it starts?”
I checked the time on my COG.
[16:48]
“Twelve minutes.”
He groaned. “Then I’m not starting this exercise. No way I’ll finish it in twelve minutes.”
“You should at least try.” I said, trying to sound encouraging, despite not seeing a point in doing homework hours before we all died.
Still, I found the mundane talk helping me to relax.
I continued. “It’s not like we’re going to be flooded with curious visitors. Nobody’s going to care about the Chrono Quill. You can continue with your homework peacefully.”
“You really need to stop downplaying yourself, Vik.”
I let out a rare chuckle. “You sound like Dr. Aresa.”
“I thought you said I sounded like your dad.”
“And my dad sounds like Dr. Aresa, so by transitive logic, you sound like Dr. Aresa.” I said.
Trent laughed back.
The next twelve minutes passed painfully slowly as I felt the tension rise with each passing second. When they had, the phonotubes groaned, followed by a calm and rehearsed voice, hitting me with a faint sense of Déjà vu.
“Esteemed citizens of Skyhaven, participants, and honored guests – Skyhaven’s 164th Annual Grand Exposition is now officially underway.”
There was a short silence, almost as if the announcer expected everyone to clap – which didn’t happen, so he continued.
“Visitors may explore exhibits on the first, second, and third floors of the Divine until 19:00 exactly. Please be advised that re-entry is not permitted once you exit the grounds.”
Trent stood up and took his spot beside our exhibit. “This is it then.”
But the announcement just kept going.
“To ensure a safe and respectful experience for all, the following guidelines must be observed:
- Do not attempt to operate – or even touch – any of the exhibits unless explicitly invited by the inventor.
- All children under the age of fifteen must remain within arm’s reach of their guardian.
- Any instances of failing to follow the above will result in immediate removal from the Exposition, and if the inventor wishes so – in formal investigation by the Ironwatch Constabulary.”
Another silence.
“Do you think he’s over – “ Trent tried but was immediately cut off by the announcer.
“A formal notice to all present: The Heads of the Eleven Ruling Families, including Head of Solvane, Primarch Dalton Rose, are expected to arrive shortly. This applies to both visitors and inventors – should you find yourself in their presence, maintain a minimum distance of five meters unless addressed directly. Approaching our esteemed rulers uninvited, obstructing their view, or causing any other disturbances for them will lead to swift intervention by Ironwatch personnel and a criminal trial.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“On behalf of the Committee for Mechanized Advancement, and under the authority of the Henrich family – House Innovation, I wish you all a pleasant evening. Let us all be inspired and strive for new ideas together.
“That is all.”
“How can you even talk so much without taking a breath or making a single mistake…” Trent muttered.
“Don’t be silly.” I said. “It has to be a recording. They probably etched it onto a wax cylinder using a phonograph rig, then linked it with an Aetheris into the Divine’s phonotube systems. Not the first time I’ve heard of it.”
“Yeah, I guess it makes more sense.” Trent replied.
It took a full ten minutes before the first visitors trickled onto the third floor. And even then, I figured it was because they were the rebellious type – the kind who wanted to feel unique by experiencing the Expo from top down.
Some asked about the Chrono Quill.
But their questions were surface level, their interest non-existent.
But strangely…it didn’t bother me.
The looming end of the world made me reshape my priorities. My success at this Expo had quickly fallen to the bottom of the list.
Slowly, 17:45 had arrived – that was when Valdemar made his move.
***
Valdemar? Is in Skyhaven.
The COGs? Exploded.
The valets? Attacked.
Screams. Blood. Burning flesh. Everywhere around.
Bodies littered the third floor – Enforcers mostly. Their COGs had detonated, some taking limbs with them, others ripping through their entire bodies, destroying even their handguns in the process.
Luckily, Trent and I were far enough not to get caught by any of the explosions.
But that wasn't the end of our problems…
The valets, holding out trays with champagne glasses a second ago, had begun attacking everyone in sight. They weren’t extremely fast, but they could jump. And they were strong enough to crush bones with a single swing of their mechanical arms.
One of them lunged at us.
I grabbed Trent by the collar and pulled him away with me. The valet crashed against my Chrono Quill, breaking both it and the table on which it stood effortlessly.
The girl with the noisy machine had already bolted – I couldn’t see her. But behind her invention, the locked double doors promised a possible escape route.
The problem was the identifying screen next to it. No way Valdemar hadn’t overrode that already.
I changed course.
“Stairs!” I shouted, yanking Trent toward the staircase that led down to the second floor.
We weren’t the only ones.
The few remaining visitors and inventors beside us had the same idea. They were halfway down the steps when they suddenly stopped.
Then stumbled back.
“More of them are coming!”
Then they ran.
Additional valets had noticed them and made their way to the third floor. To us.
“Fuck! We’re trapped.” Trent muttered.
Behind us, four valets were closing in.
“No!” I said, my voice steady, eyes darting around. "I'll think of something."
My heart pounded as my eyes landed on a small fabric sack next to a dead Enforcer…right behind the valets.
With zero hesitation, I shoved Trent away toward the edge of the room as far away from the ascending valets, and turned toward those closing in on us from behind.
Then, I ran straight at them.
“Viktor, no!” I heard Trent’s voice behind me.
Every ounce of my being told me to use the COG for what I was about to do, but my instincts told me the extra movements would take too long.
So, against my better judgement, I did what Chronos said.
I used the Déjà vu System with my mind.
Slow.
The world responded to my thought. The flailing arms of the valets slowed, their movements almost stopped completely.
But just like in the airship, I was untouched by it.
I ducked under the first valet’s reaching hand and dove shoulder-first through the gap between two of them. A mechanical arm brushed my jacket as I twisted mid-air.
And then I hit the ground, grabbing the sack with one hand outstretched, right before time resumed back to normal.
I rolled forward, tucking it to my chest, as I scrambled to my feet and backed away. The valets turned to me, heads cocking, their focus on me.
Good.
“Please, be something good.” I muttered as my shaking hands loosened the drawstring, and I cracked open the pouch.
Inside, there were just two crystals: blue – Cryora – ice, and black – Umbrium – decay.
I had never used either. Nor had I ever fought anyone using my COG – especially not an automaton.
No time to waste.
I shoved the Cryora into my COG’s Channel Core.
The response was immediate. The screen gleamed. Then – click – the internal needles snapped forward, jabbing into my wrist. With my breath caught, I winced as the mana surged through me – cold and sharp.
Then the needles retracted.
A valet lunged.
I didn’t think – I reacted, attempting to freeze the attacker.
My left hand snapped up, fingers splayed wide.
A cone of frost launched from my palm, colliding with the valet mid-air. It froze on contact, the automaton’s entire frame locking in place with a crack of ice – like a statue.
The other three, undeterred, advanced.
My COG would surely overheat if I’d attempt to freeze each and everyone of the valets separately. And freezing them all at once would be impossible as well – my COG's Quality function was level 0.
My mind raced, a plan hatching almost instantly.
I fired again – this time at the ground. A wide sweep.
Frost spread across a small area on the floor and the valets stepped into it blindly. Their legs got locked, ice crawling up their shins and knees, fusing them to the floor.
Then, without wasting another moment, I shoved the Umbrium into the Channel Core, forcing my COG to burn the Cryora faster and focus on the new mana crystal.
The COG gleamed once more – longer this time – then another stab of needles, followed by a different surge of mana. But this one wasn’t sharp. This one made me feel nauseous.
Despite my sickly state, I raised my hand again, summoning a shroud – uneven, but the best I could muster under the circumstances, and still be able to cover all four valets.
A slow black mist unfurled, drifting like ash over the frozen automatons. The shroud clung to their frames, then began eating through the metal.
The decay was uneven. One’s head tumbled off first, another lost its arms which clattered to the ground. The rest crumpled to the ground piece by piece. Even the floor wasn’t safe from the decay shroud for the short few seconds it was there – before it dissipated.
Breathing hard, I staggered backward.
“Dude, that was amazing!”
The people – including Trent – rushed to my side, eyes wide as if expecting me to save them from the valets ascending from the second floor.
But I had no other crystals.
Worse, my COG was done.
A message displayed on the screen.
[OVERHEATED]
[COG Channel Core overheated – Cooling Cycle initiated]
[Estimated Downtime: 00:29:58]
Fuck.
The crowd saw it on my face – the hope draining, the fear rising again.
I wondered if this was how I fell last time.
Then, right before I could die once more, someone came for us.
A man. Tall. His short hair streaked with gray. An oligarch – I could tell by his attire – despite the blood on it.
His foldable sword was engulfed in flames as he moved gracefully, cutting through the valets effortlessly.
The last one tried to lunge at him, but his burning blade just cleaved it vertically down the center.
The floor was clear.
We were safe. At least for now.
Everyone sighed in relief.
“Stay sharp. This is far from over.” He called out to all of us. “Follow me. We’re regrouping downstairs.”