Malich awoke to the light of day pouring through his window. He felt exhausted and confused. He had spent most of his night awake, thinking of the events of yesterday. He had first spent his time trying to convince himself that what happened wasn't a delusion of his mind. The event was so odd.

After that he repeated the conversation in his head over and over. The automaton's final words still lingered in his head “before it begins…goodbye father.”

He had come to the conclusion that the automaton must have come from the future. He did not know how or why but that seemed to fit. The second conclusion he made was that he must have built it. He doubted his abilities would ever reach the levels high enough to build such a beautiful creature.

How could he have given it such a clean form, such a lovely voice, and a mind capable of thinking for itself. And most of all he questioned why it was here. If it really did come from the future there were many other things he had to consider.

The moral and ethical concerns were quite apparent. History would have been erased, his past or no, his future, one that most likely will no longer be.

“A talking automaton. A machine from an overwritten future. One I built. Why?” The question lingered in the air which smelled of gear lube.

He wanted to know why such a being would go backwards in time. The logistics of turning back time on the scale of the city was enormous. Even the machine he built didn't truly turn back time; it simply created a brief alternate timeline that would inevitably fall in on itself. Which might have sounded more complex but was far simpler in practice.

He felt sick as he thought about it, so he turned to look at his alarm, wanting to get his mind focused on something else. It wasn't there. He pulled out his pocket watch from the nearby drawer. He did so without even lifting himself upright.

He saw the time on its face and realized he was already late for his orientation. He did not feel the same panic as he did yesterday when he was running late. He wasn't even sure whether or not to even go to school.

After lying in bed, a while Malich dragged himself off of it. Whether or not there was any meaning in going to school after such an experience was something he could let himself think about later. He had put too much effort into getting into school and had too much riding on him making connections there.

He took his time to get ready, not worried about being later than he already was. He put on a bright yellow blazer, emblazoned with the school's insignia on its breast pocket. His flat cap was not part of the student dress code, but he wore it anyway. It wasn't something special that someone had given him, it was simply something he bought for himself. An act that made it special in its own right.

He picked up his brown satchel which was filled with his textbooks and school supplies that the receptionist gave him and locked the door behind him.

As Malich arrived at the empty courtyard, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement mixed with nervousness. The front of the school was sparsely populated, with only a few scattered students seated along the magnificent staircase leading up to the entrance. He made his way up the steps, his eyes darting down to his itinerary. Mr. Alkinous had already selected his classes, but there was one in particular that caught Malich's attention.

Most of the classes were either combat or mechanics, but there was one that stood out from the rest. He wanted to ask Mr. Alkinous about it, but for now, he simply focused on getting inside the school. Malich wasn't one to complain about having his classes chosen for him. He had bigger things to worry about, like making friends.

His father's teachings and real-world experience had prepared him well for his studies, and he was confident he would excel in his classes. Even if he didn't have all the knowledge right away, he was here to learn, and he was eager to do so.

But there was one thing that worried him - his lack of social interaction. Malich had spent most of his time flying solo, with his only social interactions being business-related. His lab was his sanctuary, and he knew few people outside of work. He didn't have any real friends, and he hoped that would change at this school.

As he walked through the empty hallways, he couldn't help but wonder if he was asking too much. Could he really make friends here, or was he destined to be alone? He pushed those thoughts aside and made his way to the orientation room.

Finally, he arrived at a set of doors, and he took a deep breath before pushing them open.

Upon entering the colossal classroom, Malich's eyes widened in awe. The sheer size of the room suggested it could hold no less than five hundred peopel. As he scanned the space, his attention was drawn to the figure on stage, clutching a microphone that was connected to a gargantuan sound system, already mid-speech.

Malich took a seat towards the back of the room, and as he settled in he began to listen to the speaker, and just as quickly he tuned it out.

The speaker spoke of the greatness of the school and its legacy. It was an uninspired speech that was clearly a prelude for someone else.

Instead of the talk Malich began to focus his thoughts on automaton designs. He recently read an entire piece about an automaton built of ivory in the Cogworks paper.

It included a photo of course, but Malich was certain that the black and white image did injustice to the beauty of the piece.

The design used worm wheels in the most interesting of ways to give it an extremely sleek design.

He wished he could examine it in person. As he drooled over the design, he made a mental note to reread the article once he was back home.

Finally, the speaker wrapped up his address, and as he exited the stage, Malich spotted Mr. Alkinous approaching the podium, his fluorescent white hair clearly a sign that it was him.

Malich shifted in his seat, unsure of what to expect from the man who had orchestrated his attendance at the school.

The crowd was restless as they fidgeted in their seats, their attention span worn thin by the previous lackluster speaker. But as Mr. Alkinous made his way towards the podium, the room fell silent, fixated on the man who held their fate in his hands.

He moved with a calculated grace, exuding a sense of control over the room and the students within it.

"Good afternoon, students," Mr. Alkinous began, his voice dripping with confidence and a hint of cockiness. "I'm pleased to see that you've all made the wise choice to attend Timeforge Academy. But let's be fair, there really aren't any other options that can compare to our academy.

Timeforge Academy was founded by one of the Kaironiketes, Nesh Mallu. Many would call the man a saint and a hero. With that kind of reputation and backing it would be obvious that Timeforge Academy would be one of the most grand and prestigious schools across our commonwealth.

He was a scholar amongst the Kaironiketes, and assisted in developing the first clock that could move time forward. It was that invention that allows us all to stand here today.

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His vision was to expand upon that knowledge and to create newer, greater things. That's why this school exists. To teach you the greatest power is the ability to create.”

Mr. Alkinous's tone shifted, his bravado giving way to a sense of urgency. "Unfortunately, not everyone sees it this way.

They understand the value of creating new technology, but instead choose to invest their resources in people capable of protecting what we have already created. Preservation is noble, but it does not advance our world, and we need advancements to face our modern problems.

Many of you are here to learn how to break things, rather than make them. You will learn to use these skills to protect, but protection alone cannot create.

My voice has fallen on deaf ears among my colleagues, so I ask you, the students, what future do you want to see: progress or stagnation?

If you are interested in progress, please find me after school. I plan to open a lab that anyone is free to join no matter what curriculum you’re part of."

He let out a long sigh. “Now I suppose I should end my speech with a positive message, so here.

In the ancient past Time used to hold order, flowing ever forward, in perfect unison. But that all changed with the Stasis, and now time is a disjointed, fragmented mess. A mess we must force it forward ourselves.

The grand clock towers over our city, its massive gears turning with a steady, rhythmic hum. Every city has one just like it, the beating heart that propels their progress forward. But with the responsibility of time now resting on the people's shoulders, some cities surge ahead while others lag behind, leaving a trail of uneven development in their wake.

I do not wish for our city to be left behind. You here sitting before me are our future, so please show me that we have greatness ahead!"

As Mr. Alkinous bowed and walked off stage, Malich watched him disappear behind the curtains.

Someone new walked on stage an older woman with a head of graying hair. Even from the far distance that Malich was seated he could make out the woman's scowl. But the moment she stepped up to the podium her face was a warm smile. The change was so sudden that Malich blinked wondering if he had just imagined her scowl from a moment ago.

“New students of Timeforge Academy. I am principal Linderoth. I don't have much to say but I will say I am happy to see you here today and hope you enjoy yourselves while at this academy.

Mr. Alkinous did make some wonderful points in his speech. The future is on your shoulders but it shouldn't be your focus right now. Now you should focus on making friends, falling in love, and simply enjoying the time you spend here.

The time for worrying about the future will come and so long as you study and work hard you will be prepared for it. Timforge academy was built to give people the skills necessary to thrive in any environment and create strong individuals who are capable of excelling. We will give you the tools to do just that so as long as you take advantage of what we give you you are sure to thrive.

I hope that you will all become people capable of protecting the city as I am sure all of your parents understand that if creation is pointless without being able to protect what we create. I do not fear the stagnation Mr. Alkinous is concerned about, because there will never be stagnation so long as the Grand Clock moves. And the clock will move so long as we have wonderful people like all of you.”

Although she said she wouldn't speak long she continued to drone on. She refuted Mr. Alkinous' talk and spoke about how the commonwealth needed strong soldiers and how prestigious it is to join the TPA. She made references to Levorough City and the tragedy that befell it and how the same tragedy could happen to New Varwick if we’re not prepared.

It was a good speech, but Malich didn't feel anything special about it. As the orientation finished and the students were wished luck on their first day of school tomorrow, he got up from his seat, hoping to find Professor Alkinous before heading home.

Malich approached Professor Alkinous with a hint of apprehension gnawing at his gut. As he drew near, he noticed the man's white hair gleaming under the overhead lights and the thick glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Malich cleared his throat and called out, “Mr. Alkinous.”

The professor turned around, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Hello, Malich. Ah, call me Professor Alkinous now that you are enrolled,” he said.

“Ah okay, Professor Alkinous, I wanted to talk about my classes. I understand that I need to take combat courses, and I’m fine with the mechanic courses you have chosen, but I don't understand why I’m enrolled in a law class,” Malich said, his voice echoing in the empty hallway.

Alkinous furrowed his brow, “Ah, that. I thought it would be a good fit for you. It's good to have that type of general knowledge, especially with your career path.”

Malich's eyes widened in surprise, "My career path?" he said skeptically, "What’s this in reference to?"

Malich was taken aback. How could Professor Alkinous know anything about his private life? He had been careful to keep his career under wraps.

“Yes, your career path. Do you not think it's a good fit?” Alkinous said, unaware of Malich's inner turmoil.

Malich hesitated, unsure if Alkinous was testing him or if he genuinely didn't know about his secret work. "It's fine, thank you," he finally said, hoping to end the conversation.

“I’m glad to hear it. I think you'll learn much in the class. I hope you enjoy it,” Alkinous said, then walked away.

Alkinous strode away, leaving Malich alone to his thoughts. He looked around the room, surveying the other attendees who had gathered for the conference. His eyes settled on a free seat on a cushioned bench and he wandered over, sinking down into its softness.

A voice spoke up beside him, breaking the silence. “Do you know Professor Alkinous well?” It asked.

Malich turned to see a boy who appeared to be his own age, wearing the same uniform as he did. The boy's hair was dark and shiny, slicked back so tightly that it seemed almost painful. As he shook himself back and forth, his hair remained perfectly in place, never faltering.

Beneath his perfectly styled hair, the boy had a longish nose, which added a touch of severity to his otherwise symmetrical face. His nose seemed to jut out from his face, commanding attention

Malich did not know why the boy shook himself to and fro, but he felt that it would be crass to ask. So he moved to answering the boy’s question.

“I only met him in person yesterday, but I have read much of his work in different papers. Do you know him?” Malich said.

“I’ve read some of his work, but I have never spoken to him. It was cool to hear him speak; his speech was quite interesting. Though it feels he seeks progress for the sake of progress and doesn't care what such progress brings or who it might hurt. At least that was the feeling I got. What about you?” The boy asked.

“I honestly don't know. It’s clear he’s passionate, but I don't think he would want anyone to be hurt for the sake of progress.” Malich answered.

“You don't have to want something for it to happen. I don't think many people want others to be hurt, but it still happens. Chasing after any goal has consequences, both good and bad. The question is if the goal is worth more than the consequences it brings.” The boy replied.

“I suppose that is the question. If people do need to be hurt for progress to be made, will that progress be worth the suffering needed to attain it? And I guess it can also be asked, what if the progress brings more suffering? It's an interesting line of thought.” Malich paused and outstretched his hand in an offer to shake. “My name is Malich.”

The boy took the hand. “Barry.”

Malich couldn't help but notice the firmness of Barry's grip, a sign of his confidence. As they shook hands, Malich noticed a small silver ring on Barry's finger. The ring was unremarkable, but it was clearly a symbol of something important to Barry.

As their hands fell away from each other, Malich noticed Barry's eyes for the first time. They were a deep brown, almost black, and they held a certain emptiness that Malich couldn't quite place.

“I don't disagree with Professor Alkinous. In fact, I think we should strive toward progress no matter the cost,” Barry said, his voice monotone.

Malich raised an eyebrow. “Why is that?”

“Because without progress, it would be boring, and I hate boring things,” Barry answered, his eyes briefly flickering with a spark of something that Malich couldn't quite read.

“Personally, I think progress must be made or this city will become something truly awful,” Malich replied, carefully studying Barry's expression for any hint of emotion.

“You referring to the gangs?” Barry asked, his tone still flat.

“Them amongst other things,” Malich said, his gaze lingering on Barry's face.

Barry nodded his head. “Well, I have to go, but I suppose we might see each other in class, so I’ll catch you later.”

“Bye,” Malich said as Barry walked away. As he turned to leave himself, Malich couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about Barry. There was a certain detachment in his demeanor that seemed almost unnatural.

Hugh smiled as he got up hoping that Barry could be his first friend here at school.