“Something is wrong. The outcome is different than from what was predicted.”

An Attuned Messenger spoke with an ethereal hiss. He floated in the air like a puppet on invisible strings, speaking directly to a council of 12 faceless, mechanical beings known as the Clockwork Prophets.

They sat around a grandeur azure table that was shaped like a gear. It slowly turned clockwise. Each tooth that sat on the cardinal direction was sharpened like the hands of a compass.

“An Ankou was expected to bring three individuals to our Heart.” The Messenger relayed. His message came from a different Heart. “How they have failed. It is not a matter of being late. Another Heart of considerable influence has determined this before us.”

Although the Clockwork Prophets could directly consult strands of the Fate Mechanism, they exclusively relied on the Attuned Messengers to move information around. The Fate Mechanism’s messages were not universal, or usually interpreted the same between two different people.

This was why a council of Clockwork Prophets existed, so that they could average out the results.

“Meaning our Gear Ratio does not seem to be correct if another Astrolabe has beaten us to the prediction.” A Clockwork Prophet mulled expressionlessly, peering up at the seemingly endless ceiling where a blue haze floated.

The structure they resided in was very similar to the Instruments that the Nexus called their Complex Heart. This was a Heart of the City, where an endless supply of Gears churned like mountains in the faded horizon. The subterranean city housed little if any life. Those that were alive were kept in compartments in preparation to be converted into a Gear.

Clockwork Assessors – beings that were living beings but with gears embedded into their heads and other organs – were responsible for assessing the number of ‘Gear Ratio’ a person possessed. This was their ‘Purpose’ in the purest form; nothing but a Gear that spun in a single direction in a grand machine.

“I was there and witnessed it myself. The Ankou should have been returned. The fact he did not all of a sudden means that it is not the fault of our Gear Ratio.” The same Clockwork Prophet who had fought Mae spoke, removing himself from his seat.

He floated towards the balcony that oversaw the entirety of the Heart of the City.

A network of gears rose from an array of twelve towers that reached into the haze. The Gears churned to power something indescribable within. Even the Clockwork Prophets were not aware of what it was – only that it was necessary.

One had to remember they themselves were just Gears to their own collective Heart. Individuality was nonexistent. Purpose was what purely defined their existence.

“We are in a position where we are simultaneously fueling the Fate Mechanism for predictions and harnessing its power for Orloj and our Astrolabe. We cannot keep relying on the Fate Mechanism with such uncertainties.”

“But the unfortunate truth is that we can’t escape it. It is the source of our predictions.” Another Clockwork Prophet answered immediately afterwards, as though he had already predicted what this one would say.

That Heart beat within the center complex that sat in the center of all towers. Many interlocking rings surrounded a blue light that served as their Heart. Each massive, interlocking ring grew tenfold with each additional ring.

There were 5 in total; the first depicting the path of the sun, the second the position of the sun, the third the moon, the fourth the named constellations where the sun and moon were currently found in the night sky – and finally, a calendar that ended precisely on what Act X called the 10th Act.

This final ring was not a complete ring, nor was there a specified date or time. But they knew it was soon. Once the gears crossed the end of that ring, then the 10th Act would begin.

It was also the only ring that was missing a tenth of it, meaning it had a beginning and end. No one knew exactly what it meant, or what the 10th Act was, aside from that this was what the Fate Mechanism ultimately desired.

“All because of that being… the Director.” The Clockwork Prophet, who was sure that Mae would be captured, curled his fists in covert fury. “I left them in belief that I was not needed there.”

He attempted to draw a prediction from the Fate Mechanism itself by placing a hand onto a nearby stone. It shone with a blue glow as did many things due to the influence of the haze originating from the Fate Mechanism. Then, he let it fall to his feet.

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He recited immediately after it split in two.

“The stone will not break – it said. I felt it. I believed it, and I saw it. All three seconds of it. And yet, the stone split in two perfect halves. The Director gives us red herrings from time to time. It’s becoming too common now.”

The Director was what they knew to be an Archetype of the Nexus. This much was a given, but how and why they were able to directly influence the Fate Mechanism was beyond them and even their master Orloj.

“We must empower the wishes of our own and avoid the influence of the Director and Act X. Red herrings and those lives they falsely save through ‘purpose’, when they could just become Gears and rid themselves of the burden of free will.” He spoke again, his ‘eyes’ moving towards the blue haze above their Heart of the City.

Of all the Impuritas, the Sect of Gears was the most silent. They did not have the sheer numbers of the Crimson Hunger, or the brawns of Infecta Rot, or the variety of the Librarians. The simplest form of a Sect of Gear came purely as a tiny cog, or a living being that was fused with the same living Gears. A Clockwork Prophet was on the extreme end of the latter with barely any biological ‘flesh’, although if one were to open a Gear, then they’d say otherwise.

The Clockwork Prophet did just that. He pried open a stray Gear from the railing. Within was pink meat, sinew, and what seemed to be bones lining the Gear. Judging by the wrinkles of the meat, it was purely brain matter.

It quivered underneath the blue light.

This Gear was still very much alive.

“We’ll have the power of the Fate Mechanism as our own eventually.” He said, looking at an array of Gears that turned counterclockwise from the haze. They were colossal tendrils syphoning something from beyond that veil.

“Then we will no longer require it. I hear it’s call again. I am needed elsewhere. Orloj calls me to Emvita.”

“And not us?” The Clockwork Prophets seemed suspicious, but alas, they could not voice this out of fear of being marked as traitors.

If they held even the slightest bit of unalignment to their Heart, then they were as good as dead.

“I will not ignore the instructions given to me. Neither will you question it. Increase the Gear Ratio we are drawing from the light. This Astrolabe must not rest. But you already knew that.”

“Very well.”

The Clockwork Prophet plucked an Etched Coin infused with the teleportation powers of the Hyperlink Crystals and disappeared with a trace.

“We will continue harvesting Gear Ratio from the light of the Fate Mechanism. Our Attuned Messenger – relay it at once.”

“As you wish.”

Just before the Attuned Messenger could leave, the pair of steel double doors that were ornated in Gears burst open. Another Attuned Messenger appeared, except that his entire left, skeletal arm was missing.

“New! I come with a message from beneath! The subjects have disappeared!” He exclaimed, his voice carrying little urgency. Even his body gestures did not accurately reflect the severity of the situation.

But this message alone was enough to immediately cause the Clockwork Prophets to stand.

The issue with the Sect of Gears was they could not make major predictions within their Hearts. It was like how a clock could not tell the time of another clock. Only the clock itself could tell what its time was.

Whether they were correct or incorrect was not important.

This provided them immunity from Act X’s predictions, but it came at the cost of being unable to foresee attacks. This was why the Clockwork Prophets were concerned about the failure of the Memento Mori.

It meant that something unpredictable was occurring nearby, but they had mistakenly associated it with the interference of the Director. It never occurred to them that it was due to something they could not account for at all.

“Send the Spindleworms. The Heart will begin defending itself. As for us, the Heart asks for us to remain here and maintain operations.” A Clockwork Prophet quickly interpreted the sudden throes of the Heart.

The world quaked beneath their feet as black smoke rose to the skies. They did not know where it came from. Hundreds of Attuned Messengers floated in the skies, searching for the source like flocks of birds.

The Spindleworms burrowed through the ground, pulverizing buried belongings of the past inhabitants of this place.

Before this became an Astrolabe, it was home to several tens of thousands of people who lacked a drive in their life. The lack of that drive gave birth to a Heart that promised it and alleviated the suffering associated with thought, discretion, choices, and ruminations.

A Gear did not need to think. They only needed to turn and serve. Why think when one could just do and contribute?

To them, becoming a Gear was not only a mercy, but to tangibly play a role in the bigger picture.

“Where did the Spindleworms disappear to?” The Clockwork Prophets spread themselves thin and summoning various floating Gears to defend themselves.

Several rushed towards an overhang. A great pendulum swung in the foggy backdrop, appearing and disappearing into the mist at a speed that should have ripped it apart. This pendulum was attached to the invisible ceiling far above. If one had seen it for the first time, then they would have believed that it came straight from where the blue light was.

Suddenly, as the great pendulum swung into the faraway mist, the sound of a crash caused the towers to shake.

“Escape! Escape immediately!” The Clockwork Prophets collectively received hundreds of messages from the Attuned Messages.

Dozens that had ventured far ahead were simultaneously killed.

It should have been impossible, since they were not only in the air, but were also considerably spread apart. Then, they saw it. Silhouette after silhouette of a colossal, hundred-meter Spindleworms flew towards their direction.

“Gravitational anomaly – Report it immediately! Gather an Etched Coin!”

They held out a golden coin that promised to teleport them to safety. However, for an unknown reason –

“It… does not function? Who… no, why has it stopped working?”

– The Etched Coins did not allow them to teleport.