Slowly, Jenn’s room gets consumed by… nothingness. The familiar void in between sleep and dream, but something is off. My face is still burning. Am I dead? The sensor vibrates uncontrollably. I couldn’t care less even if I tried. Suddenly, a loud disembodied voice can be heard everywhere in this nowhere. Surrounding me from all flanks. It sounds male. Very monotone and low.
“Burma Hylpa, I’ve been waiting for you, welcome to my dimension.”
“Show yourself!” My voice sounds… wrong.
I thrash around, trying to search for my baton sword. No luck.
“You will see me soon. But you must calm yourself first. It is not beneficial for either of us if you approach our coming discussion with the short temper you are currently displaying.”
“Where is my sister?!”
“She is safe, technically.”
“Do you believe in fate, Burma? Or should I call you Hill?”
“What do you mean technically?! Where is she?! Take me back!”
“Calm down, Hylpa. Answering my question is a formality I am required to-”
“YOU ANSWER FIRST!”
It pauses, allowing a subtle clicking rhythm to take over the empty space, the void I know doesn’t have sound at all, I don’t know where I am, then, but the sound is… calming, I almost feel sleepy. Almost.
“Time in the third dimension has stopped, relative to you. She is unharmed thanks to this abnormality in the progression of time in your dimension that fate has allowed, but still in her current predicament.” It keeps its calm voice before pausing again.
“Did you bring me here?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Fate, Hylpa. That is the brief answer. So can you now answer my question?”
“... Yes and no.”
“Elaborate.”
“I think fate exists but we can change parts of it if we try hard enough.”
“Interesting. Would you like to see your destined dimension now? This is the only way to see me.”
“If that’ll free me from this… whatever this is then aye. I need to get back to my sister.”
“Very well.”
I feel myself falling again, this time though, a floor can be seen.
… This is going to hurt.
I land on the marble floor harshly. Luxury doesn’t feel very luxurious when you splat head first on it.
Focus, Hill, not the time for jokes. Seems like whatever that rhythm was got to my head. Situational awareness, what’s around you?
Golden pillars are placed to support the hexagonal structure of the room and Golden gears are running on the walls. There's a figure in the center of the room, sitting on a golden throne made of gears.
This place is a filthy rich steampunker’s dream, which this guy might be for all I know.
1 of the 6 walls has gears that aren’t moving. Does it correlate with the time stop the voice mentioned?
Oh yeah, the voice. The figure on the throne is a gigantic humanoid. Around 3 stories tall, I’d say. I can imagine the booming voice belonging to it. Its face is mostly covered by a headpiece that looks like a combination of a European war helmet, the ones that cover your whole face save for the eye holes, and a crown. The headpiece has an ornamented stoic face design to the front of it. I can see the ends of a very thick beard poking through the opening of the headpiece. It wears armor, medieval-looking too, but with a hood tucked to the back. Both the armor and the headpiece are golden. On its hand is a scythe almost as tall as it is. Is it some kind of medieval… Grim Reaper? Not something I expect to see. That’s for sure.
The figure clears its throat.
“Greetings. My name is Father Clockwork.”
“Father Clockwork? You’re the one The Church worships.”
Another pause. It seems I’m an expert at annoying beings that can probably kill me.
“Yes. Though I am no god, and I do not care for the devotion of those foolish enough to think I am one.”
“Then what are you?”
“I am a being of power, an avatar of fate.”
Yup, he definitely could kill me.
“Weird, I thought I’d be more… distressed seeing someone like you. No offense. But you’re not exactly… natural for me,”
It’s not exactly natural for me to be here anyway, now that I think about it.
But the rhythm of calmness overtakes my thoughts again. Is it some kind of brainwashing? Or is it there for my good?
“What’s with the… clicking anyway? Are you trying to brainwash me? Am I supposed to feel aware and you’re trying to suppress that?” I reflexively go for my baton sword but it’s still not there.
“The room is limiting your senses so that its non-euclidean geometry does not overload your brain. What you see is your perception of it, not its true form. And the gears around you produce a rhythm that brings a certain sense of order, so you can make this next decision with a clear mind. I am more natural than you might think.”
“Decision? But I don’t even understand the… situation I’m in now. I need to know more first.”
“And I thought your sister was the curious one?”
“If she’s here, you’ll spend forever answering her questions.”
She really would. I miss when the only thing she asked me was about the animals in the few picture books in our home. The memory brings a small smile to my face. Feels like a lifetime ago now. Father Clockwork clears his throat again before I can fully let go of those memories.
“I have forever if it is necessary. But that is for fate to decide.”
“We must get to business. Out of all candidates, you are the last alive. You have the will and drive to conquer challenges others will simply fail. And all of that for your sister.”
“What if I tell you that fate favors you? That fate has bigger plans for you?”
“Do you know the folktale ‘The Masked Menace’ or ‘The Mask of Cunningness’? It depends on who you ask. It’s not a commonly known tale, but some cultures still hold on to it, some for hope, some as a warning, and some to degrade me.”
… Is he seriously asking me about some bedtime story now? What was the first part again? Does fate favor me? Bigger plans? Was I just lucky this whole time? I wouldn’t complain, but that’s a lot to think about.
Ugh, focus, Hill. Don’t let the sound get to you. Forget thinking. Let’s just get this over with and get back to Jenn.
“No, I’m not into stories.”
“How unfortunate. We shall rectify that.”
A mechanical hand grabs a book from a panel that has opened in one of the walls. The gear on that panel should have stopped, but somehow it continues spinning in synchronization with the other gears. The giant opens a page of the book and begins reading.
“A long time ago, in an age of darkness, an age of freaks, a speck of bright light shone. A cunning woman with skills second to none dedicated her life to protecting the dimension she inhabits. Under fate’s watchful eye, she slew the freaks of nature one by one, as fate’s interest rose.
The warrior is not a fool though, she knew she would one day succumb to the inevitable. On the day she thought it all would end, Father Clockwork, under fate’s orders, took her to his domain. She was transformed into a clockwork avatar making her far more powerful than any single mortal. With her newfound powers, she slew even more of the freaks. Ripping and tearing through each like paper.
But the evil is many and she is one. The mark of the clockwork on her face scared any potential ally that came her way. So she made a mask, a mask that will inspire rebellion amongst her allies, and will instill within the freaks fear of the clockwork avatar. Her rebellion freed her people from the freaks’ clutches. But fate is not done with her.
Fate is a force of both good and evil. The balance of all things and the natural cycle of all there is. Fate must find a way to balance her presence. And so Father Chaos was ordered to spread more of the freaks throughout the dimensions.
In response, Father Clockwork was ordered to assign avatars from other dimensions to combat the evil his younger brother spread.
All led to a great battle between Father Chaos himself and the avatars. The battle was hard, and the avatars pushed their limits. Unleashing powers on an unheard scale. It cost them dearly, but the heroes pushed on.
In the end, all of the avatars either died or lost their power, but Father Chaos was made dormant for a time in his home realm. A time of peace took place for millions of years. And that cycle will continue, until the fateful day when both Fathers are destroyed, returned to The Essence of Fate, and all shall disappear.”
“And that is the tale of The Masked Menace, the first of her kind. And you will be the next to carry this mask on your dimension.”
Even with the room’s calming effect, I find my mind spiraling out of control.
I just wanted to protect my sister, I just wanted to give her a life she deserves. Why do I have to get involved with fate, a giant sitting on a throne, and all of this… mask thing?! The rhythm fights to take back control but my subconscious fights back.
“Man- I- I mean, Thing, Sir, Whatever, give me a minute. You told all that WAY too casually. Is the story real as it’s told?”
“I have anticipated this reaction. This is how almost all of the previous avatars react.”
“Ever consider changing the curriculum?”
“No.”
I sit on my spot in silence for an hour, two maybe, or even three, I tend to lose count after the first 15 minutes.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
My subconscious finally yields its fight. Take it slowly, Hill. Think this through.
Never really wanted to be some kind of “chosen one” or even anybody special, I just want to live a simple life, I want to see my sister grow up, maybe see her make a family of her own if I live that long. But… Father Clockwork made it clear. There might not even be a world left if I don’t take this mask now. And there’s still the immediate threat to Jenn, two Mazemasters so close to my sister… I won’t be able to kill them fast enough to save her. There was no choice, was there?
He knew accepting the mark was my only option. The giant is an avatar of fate after all…
He’s a sly dog. An infinitely powerful dog at that. A cosmic con man, one I have no choice but to follow. I have to keep my promise, whatever it takes, whatever new responsibility. I will keep her safe.
“Do you accept the mark of the clockwork? I am sure you have processed your options.”
“Will it really allow me to save my sister?”
“Fate exists but you can change parts of it if you try hard enough.”
I take a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”
He stands up, showing his full height. The gears move again opening a different panel this time and handing me a mask, a version of the woman’s mask but with a skeleton-like nose, a twisted grin, and large empty eyes. It’s spotlessly white and cold to the touch like cooled metal. There are black-tinted glasses that I can’t see through. Must be one way, I wonder how much it will block my vision. Turning around, I’m surprised to see I can see through the other side as if nothing was there.
The gears move again to give me… my baton sword? It’s decorated with a maze and gear carving on the baton now and weighs slightly heavier, probably because the shell metals look a bit thicker and stronger. The edge is sharper than I can ever sharpen it. The weight will take some getting used to though I’m sure it’s not too bad. It’s been cleaned. My marks and memories on it, the blood, sweat, and tears, be it mine or whoever’s on the pointy end are gone.
But I suppose that’s fine.
I’ll earn those marks back soon enough.
“With this mask and your favored weapon, you shall be the third dimension’s Grima, protector of your world, and an avatar of the clockwork. you will be able to use the power of the gears you see here, namely your dimension’s gears and the fourth’s, your destined dimension, to unleash abilities that are unnatural to your world. But beware, these powers work in ways you might not expect.”
“Your choice has been written in The Book of Fate, Grima, and you will not be able to take it back. Pray that you will find direction in your new life, avatar. Because it will not be easy.”
My vision starts turning black and the rhythm starts to fade, leaving me in the void again.
The void then disappears putting me back in Jenn’s room. Everything is in its place, the sensor’s vibrations finally calm down.
First things first, I need to distance those 2 freaks from her. As I think about going there, I am transported into a version of my sister’s room, a kind of twisted version, where everything is white and black and still, the matter here seems unstable, as objects are constantly jittering in place. I can move my sheathed baton sword though, so it’s not affecting everything. This must be the fourth dimension, or my perception of it, at least. Is this what Jenn theorized about the Mazemasters’ teleporting ability? Maybe they just stop time? I notice the sensor’s going crazy again.
I try slashing at the Mazemasters which doesn’t work, unfortunately, it passes right through. Father Clockwork did say that my powers won’t work as expected? Come to think of it, I feel quite drained, the power must have been drawing from my energy to run. The next best thing is to stand between them and Jenn. I stand ready with a defensive stance, holding my baton tight.
Why did he have to be so vague? Is it just time constraints or pure dramatic effect? I’m willing to bet it’s for dramatic effect.
With a single thought about time starting again, the room turns back to normal, the Mazemasters claws right at the baton, definitely startled. My sister backs further into her corner. I take the opportunity and stab at its head. One down. The other one teleports into another corner of the room, they’re like predators. It must be trying to process the situation. Jenn’s table is right behind it, maybe I could… think about throwing it at the thing?
And just as I thought that a line coming from my hand to the table formed, it’s like a rift mirror into the twisted world I was in before, the sensor vibrates again. I pull the line and the table is thrown towards the Mazemaster, the pull was surprisingly weightless. As it shrieks and stumbles towards me, I push it down and end its miserable life. The first 2 marks have been earned again.
I quickly look back at Jenn, but she backs away.
Feeling like I know what happened, I touch my face. The clockwork’s mark, a maze-shaped scar on my face, just like theirs, and on my left hand is a gear symbol. Imagining what my face looks like now, I can understand why the warrior in the story didn’t have allies before the mask.
“Jenn, it’s me.” But my voice still sounds wrong. It’s like I can’t get air through a damaged throat, which is probably the case, honestly. I emit a very hushed, unnatural tone. My voice causes her to stick to the wall, moving deeper into the corner.
I just stand there, unsure of what to do. Jenn is cuddling herself and shivering in place. I can hear her deep, ragged breaths. All because of me.
I’ve had many nightmares, but this is the worst yet.
I awkwardly hold my baton sword, presenting it to her. She squints her eyes, her breath tightens, but she seems willing to observe first. I spin the sword around like I usually do, making it brush around my arm and switching grips. She seems to slowly catch on as I continue playing with it.
“H- Hill?”
“Yeah. It’s me.” I try to smile but the skin around my mouth feels uncomfortable.
“How are you not turned?”
“Hey! I’m hard to kill.” I say with a wink.
She looks worried, still unsure. Yeah, maybe not the best time.
“I… Look, I don’t understand either, but I am apparently marked by fate? And I met Father Clockwork, you know, the one The Church worships?” She nods slowly, her eyes looking up trying to process it all.
“So… yeah, he gave me powers and told me I need to fix this whole mess. I honestly just got through it to get back here.”
“Wait, Father Clockwork is real? Is The Church is right then?”
An important trick I learned a long time ago. The best way to get Jenn to open up to anybody is by making her curious first and then making her think theorize, or explain.
“No, he says he’s not to be worshipped. He’s still big though. 3 story building kinda big, I reckon.”
“Oh okay. That’s… that’s a lot of information. Interesting...”
“That’s not even half of it… Do you know ‘The Masked Menace’?”
“Hmm? Oh, of course, it’s a folktale story from the Vikings, if I remember correctly. It’s been translated in some books, but mostly in demonology and poem ones. The one with the woman who’s like, a great warrior? I thought it was a myth.”
Pretty sure everybody but The Church of Father Clockwork thought it was a myth…
“Yeah, that one- Wait, demonology books?”
“I was just curious, I wasn’t going to do anything with it!” She said defensively.
“I… Okay.”
“Don’t judge me!”
“I’m not judging! I probably look like a demon right now, might as well have a sister that knows their lore.”
“You… Okay, I can’t lie, your face does look pretty scary right now, but continue.”
“Weren’t my face always scary?”
“More than usual this time, Hill.” She says with a concerned look.
”Where was I? Oh, apparently I’m a version of the woman in the story. That’s part of why we’ve always been… somewhat lucky, I think.”
”And he also gave me a mask and modified my baton sword. Maybe you should check it out, you know these things better than I do.” I say as I wear the mask.
“Let me see.”
She inspects it thoroughly for a few minutes. Pulling on it forcefully at one point. Muttering here and there about the new additions’ possible uses.
“Okay, so he made the locking mechanism magnetic-based instead of the slot it used to use. See the magnet ring? The magnet’s unnaturally strong and weak at the same time though, look.”
She attaches and detaches the baton sword multiple times easily, but when she throws it to a wall, it stays attached, instead of separating violently as one would expect. I’m kind of miffed she threw my weapon but it’s for science, I suppose.
“It can be explained with electromagnetics, but I dinnae ken where the electronics are. Maybe on the inside?” She finally concludes.
“Don't take it apart,” I say bluntly. She gives the weapon back to me, disappointed.
“Anything else you figured out?”
The mask normalizes my voice. That’s neat. And the edges I expected to see aren’t there, giving me a full, clear view.
“There are small gears on the openings of both parts, but I don’t know what it’s for. It’s not connected to anything. Oh, and the mask fixes your voice? It doesn’t sound… broken anymore.”
“I didn’t know it can change voices either. Pretty neat, don’t you think? Let me try the gear thing, I think I might have an idea what it’s for.”
I put the baton sword on the ground and extended both my hands. The gears in the opening turn, both parts flew to my preferred hands. Baton on my left, and sword on my right. I try to think about putting it into its spear form and both parts jump out of my hand and land in its new form. So these are gears from that golden room. It’s way more straightforward than I expected… Oh right, the time stop thing was not straightforward. Even trying to make sense of all of this isn’t going as I expected.
“Whoa, WHAT?!”
She jumps excitedly.
“Yeah, your clockwork theory seems to be right, sis. Father Clockwork must have connected me to the greater clockwork you talked about the other day or something.”
“I KNEW IT. Every important piece of technology we’ve found or made so far is gear-based, I knew something greater was at play!”
She reacted as excitedly as I hoped, pacing around the room thinking. As happy as I am seeing her this giddy again after so long, there are more pressing matters.
“That’s cool and all, but we still gotta go.”
The gears on the wall start turning again for no reason. It wasn’t my doing so maybe someone else’s? Or Father Clockwork himself?
I try thinking about stopping time again to check the other rooms safely, but no luck.
“I swear, I… stopped time before.”
“Yeah, I saw,” Jenn commented, rubbing her chin.
“Why can’t I do it now?”
“Because of the gears in the wall, Grima. It blocks all clockwork powers and energies.”
Definitely a new voice, whoever it is is coming from the room’s entrance. I ready my baton sword and Jenn aims her crossbow, using my shoulder as support.
“Woah, Woah, relax! Friendly! Friendly!” The man on the door says, holding his hands up and jumping to the door’s edges for cover.
Wait a minute… Purple cloak, blue clothing, brown belts, and that ski mask…
“I think I’ve heard of you on the radio… Are you Doppel?” I yell slightly, gripping my sword tighter.
“In the flesh! A flesh I am planning to keep, so I would really prefer if you stop pointing your weapons at me!” He yells back from his cover.
“What are you doing here?” My sister asks, clearly excited to meet someone ‘famous’ like him. She puts her crossbow down.
“Well, your… friend here is a clockwork avatar.” He says, popping his head out of cover and addressing my sister.
“Father Clockwork told me I need to go look for you when you appear. I felt your presence this morning and went looking. And here you are, exactly where I expect you to be! Fate works in funny ways, huh?”
“You felt my presence? Through Father Clockwork or his powers, I assume. How come I can’t feel yours? And I haven’t even gotten my powers this morning, there’s no way you detected that.”
“It takes some getting used to, but you’ll be able to feel the presence of clockwork beings. Well, unless that being is here while the gear is on, that is. I don’t know about your powers though. Maybe you were revealed early to give me time to come?”
“Okay… Still, how did you know where to find me? That part doesn’t make sense.”
“Well, this bunker was mine for a while. And where else to find the clockwork avatar other than the clockwork bunker?”
“Wait, you made the bunker?” My sister immediately ran towards Doppel. I try to stop her but apparently, a fangirl is faster than a survivor, so I just follow her cautiously.
I get her enthusiasm, but I’ve seen false idols before. People acting like they’re better than they are. Hypocrites, all of them. Selling their beliefs, dignity, sometimes even religion for scraps of attention and money from the people they leech from. I’ve seen preachers from The Church of Father Clockwork do it, I’ve seen famous merchants do it, I’ve seen doctors do it. Nobody would even believe how many small settlement “heroes” I’ve passed by. Feeding off of the desperation of especially weak settlers only to run off at the first sign of trouble.
“No, I wish I could. This place is a piece of art!” he chuckled.
“Father Clockwork just made it… appear.”
“And I assume Father Clockwork also turned the gears off to let the Mazemasters close and make me a… Gríma? A mask?”
“Grima, not the icelandic Gríma. Confusing, I know.”
“And yeah. Sounds like something he would do. Avatar of fate and all.” He says, waving jazz hands to emphasize the last sentence.
“And you had nothing to do with it? You didn’t turn the gears off or back on?”
“No, man, I don’t know how any of this works.”
Fair point. He doesn’t seem smart about these kinds of things. Jenn would probably figure it out years before he even gets close.
“Of course.” I sigh. Finally sheathing my weapon.
“Well, aren’t you a Grima too then? Why call yourself a Doppel?”
“I’m not a Grima. Father Clockwork gave me a clockwork power, sure, but I have my own unique power. Your powers are far more powerful than mine, he said. Apparently, I’m fated to help you, be your sidekick, and all that. And Doppel is my name, not a title.”
“Really? And you accept that role because…?”
“I just… want to help?”
“Thanks… I already have a sidekick though.”
I look at my sister, who’s staring at me disapprovingly. I grin behind the mask.
“I don’t know about powers though, I’ve only used some sort of time stop ability and a version of telekinesis.”
“Wow! 2 powers already?”
“I guess? What’s your power?”
“You know how fate is fluid?”
“Yeah? I think so, at least.”
“Right. Well, I can temporarily call a version of me from another fate at the same spot, basically making two of me. You know, a DOPPELganger?”
“Ahh, okay. That makes sense.” My sister says. It doesn’t, really. None of this makes sense to my peanut brain. But if she says so.
“Well… what now?” She asks again.
“Oh, right. Doppel, meet Jenny, my sister. Jenny, meet Doppel, another clockwork… being… thing, like me.”
“Oh, you guys are siblings, I see.”
Doppel waves at her casually. She waves much more excitedly.
“I’ve heard so much about you! My friends and I talk about you sometimes.”
“Ooh! A fan!”
“You could say that! Did you really kill 10 Mazemasters at once?”
“Well, technically each of me killed 5.”
“That’s still cool!”
That’s actually pretty average for survivors like us, but she doesn’t need to know. Well, killing 5 is average, but since he can multiply I guess 10 is his normal. He probably can do better than that if the stories are true.
“Okay, okay. Enough chit-chat. What do we do now?”
“Still remember the tale?”
“No… Not all of it. Is that a mandatory part of being a Grima?”
“Oh… I expected you to remember… I don’t remember either. I’m not into stories.”
“We’re the same in that way too, then.”
“... You guys really should read more. Okay, you’ve killed lots of Mazemasters without powers, so that’s the first step done, you’ve got powers, the second step’s done, and then-”
“So it’s the saving humanity part, now!”
Doppel exclaimed.
“Not yet, it’s the forming the rebellion part first.”
“Oh, right…”
“Well, Grima. Are you ready?”
“Yeah, as long as my sister stays with me. And we stay close to the south for as long as possible. No debate on that.”
“Uhh… those conditions aren’t in the tale, I think. But not against it either, so okay, I guess? Meet you guys outside!”
He quickly turns back, heading for the exit. Jenn was about to follow but I grab her arm first.
“Oh, I almost forgot!”
“What?”
“Happy belated 17th birthday,” I say with a smile she couldn’t see.
“Sorry I couldn’t get any presents this year. I decided to make some sort of meat cake to make up for it but I didn’t get an animal today. I was holding off on congratulating you until I got something to give but… I don’t think that’s gonna happen anytime soon. Sorry.”
“It’s okay and thanks… I honestly thought you forgot anyway.” She elbows me.
“I would never!”
“And I don’t want to ever hear the word ‘meat cake’ ever again.” She says with a disgusted face.
“Aww, what’s wrong with meat cake?”
“Meat will never be cake! It’s just not meant to be.”
“But you’ve never even tried!”
“You haven’t either.”
“You know, I didn’t get an animal but I did get some raiders… maybe we could try…” I snicker and wink, forgetting again she can’t see my face.
“Ew! No!” she climbs up the bunker ladder, laughing.