The first prototype had failed; burning out during a prolonged activity test, the amount of power drawn during its state of continuous operation overwhelming the machine to the point that it had begun to smoke in places. The failure had led to a… mix of emotions in those participating; many were disheartened and growing increasingly nervous over the possibility of failing again, others saw it as just a usual step in the process of creating as complex a device as the Cradle, and there were three cases of people growing so agitated as to physically lash out over the outcome of the first prototype.

Isaac and Killian had both made expressly sure those people were no longer present.

In the wake of the Cradle’s demise, those involved had set upon the task of adjusting and modifying the fourth generation’s schematic like hyenas on a fresh corpse. They took apart both the physical and conceptual versions of the Cradle, piece by piece, with a fervor that would concern Isaac if not for his awareness of the stakes. He had been just as single-mindedly voracious for solutions as the rest of them, running around from computer to computer, person to person; collating ideas and hypotheses, giving insight and opinions, even burying himself in the Cradle itself at one point to gather a better understanding of where the failures had been most prevalent.

Until he lost consciousness, that is...

One second Isaac had been standing up from a computer station and the next he was lying on the floor surrounded by a crowd of blurry faces, an odd sense of déjà vu playing through what little amount of awareness he had at the time.

He had drifted in and out of consciousness for a while, his body and mind so drained and run down that it had had no other choice than to push the factory reset button on itself, and lock Isaac out of running it any further ragged than it already was. A loosely present part of him wanted to force himself fully awake every time he breached his blackout, but… he was just so damn tired.

So, who was he to argue with his own anatomy?

Seven-and-a-half hours passed with Isaac in a coma-like state, the rest of the world still moving while he was suspended within the stillness of his own mind.

When Isaac came to, it wasn’t to a cacophony of noise as scientists, engineers, and doctors worked together and debated amongst each other; it was to an uneasy stillness as all-consuming as the one he had just been resting within.

Isaac pushed himself up, pulling a lab coat off that had been draped across him as a makeshift blanket, and grunted as he rose from the couch he had been moved to. The room was motionless, with everyone huddled in a mass at the front of the control center, the only sound present being an unfamiliar voice.

Isaac walked towards them, head clearing from the grogginess of his sudden rest, the voice becoming clearer as he approached, “-ports indicate that Japan has also begun mobilization, besides others indicating that across the U.S., military and government personnel are being called to report to their place of work; It is this reporter’s opinion that the United States and China are moving towards an active conflict scenario.”

“But that couldn’t possibly mean that this will turn to war. It’s probably just… posturing or-or maybe they’re just being precautious, right?” Another voice questioned, voice subtly panicked and desperate.

The anchor was answered by silence for a moment that stretched on for eternity, before they were answered by a tone that was much less assured than would be preferred, “I hope so,” the voice was quieter, small and meek, “Sources say that the White House has been inundated with new arrivals… I- we have to hope that our representatives are doing everything they can to avoid such a thing.”

Isaac tuned out the rest of the conversation, mind racing. Time was already an issue, but now… now they were working against an hourglass with a crack on its bottom, and at any moment the glass could burst and leave them with no time at all. He should feel panicked at how close a new World War was at hand, he should feel frustrated that he was unconscious for so long, unable to help. But instead…

“Why do I feel so damn calm?” Isaac wondered. For as long as he had known what was coming, he had been... frenzied and agitated. There wasn’t a moment that he was devoid of anxiety or fear and yet now, “There’s no more wondering. No more waiting. And without either I can just… act.” Isaac came to the conclusion with utmost certainty.

All that was left was living or dying. Saving the world or watching it burn. Success or failure. Work or give in.

And he was far too stubborn to give up now.

Isaac looked out over the quiet crowd, still listening to the news with morbid enrapture, and loudly clapped his hands together. People jumped and shuddered in shock, a few yelping in surprise and fear, like a gunshot had gone off beside their heads. Heads turned, glares and panicked eyes falling Isaac’s way as the attention shifted from the screens to the originator of the sudden sound.

Isaac waited for everyone’s full attention before beginning to speak, “We don’t have any more time to spare. We don’t have the time to spend focusing on what we already knew was coming,” Isaac could see some frustration and anger boiling up at what appeared to them to be a dismissal of their feelings, but he couldn’t spare them the chance to vent, “For some of you… maybe all of you, this news is making what’s coming all the more real. You held out hope that I was mistaken, paranoid, maybe even out of my mind. I would be lying if I didn’t say I hoped the very same. But this news confirms our fears, war is coming, and while we can do nothing to stop what’s going on outside… we can do something right here.”

“This Cradle is our best hope… it may very well be our only hope, for anyone, to survive the devastation that this conflict will bring,” The crowd was as quiet and focused on him as they had been the news while Isaac continued, “But, as I did before, when things were far more uncertain, I will not continue without offering you all a choice,” Isaac looked over the crowd meeting, many of their eyes, “Stay or leave. If you feel you would be better served besides your families than here working, you may go. I, personally, support your decision and - while I can’t speak for the others here - am sure that they will understand.”

Isaac gave them time to think over his offer; to decide whether working towards a solution that may fail, was more valuable to them than spending what very well may be the last moments they could with their families. He didn’t say a word as a small group of people broke away and quickly walked towards the door, heads down, bodies hunched and tensed in shame or frustration.

He allowed them to exit without condemnation and stayed quiet a few moments following their disappearance, in case anyone else desired to go their own way, before starting up again, “Now, for those of you still here, our work is all the more critical. Whatever timeframe we had in mind prior to current events is now completely worthless. Every second, every minute, every hour matters further the more they go past. I don’t know how far you’ve come in the,” Isaac looked at his wrist pad, “Fuck’s sake, seven-and-a-half hours I was… indisposed. But wherever we are now is meaningless if we don’t start putting something together, right away. I trust in each and every one of you, I’ve seen your work… the world has seen your work and has felt the impact with every product we’ve released. So, it’s time for you to do what you’ve done again and again. Show the world what you’re capable of… and save it.”

Isaac could feel his face flush with the realization of how much his emotions had gotten away from him. And, opening his mouth to apologize, was interrupted when a voice spoke up from within the crowd, “Why the fuck wasn’t your first speech like that?!”

Surprised and hesitant laughs turned into a cascade of humor as a single action transferred the group’s panic and fear, sorrows and frustrations, into a much-needed release. Isaac joined them, chuckling to himself at the absurdity of the moment… and at himself.

Before speaking again, Isaac allowed their laughter to continue until the point it began to peter off, “I-I really wish I had an answer for you.” He chuckled, eliciting another, smaller, round of laughter, “Now, I need to be caught up to speed. But, in the meantime, we need working prototypes up yesterday. So, with that in mind and if you haven’t started to already, I’m giving you all full permission to use whatever necessary to make these things as fast as possible. The entire facility is open to you; if someone is using what you need, tell them to ‘fuck off’ and use it yourself, foundry in here is occupied, start using the machine factory’s, whatever it is, these Cradles are the priorities,” Isaac looked at the crowd arrayed before him and smiled, “We’ve got a world to save and little time to do it. So let’s get to work!”

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Isaac’s conclusion wasn’t met by any cheers, there were no movie-like exclamations, but instead all he saw was steely-eyed determination and a certain… solidarity amongst the crowd as they dispersed.

He shared nods and the occasional grasp with people as they passed him, standing in place like a single stone in the center of a stream, watching a particular group approach. Sara, Eli, Katagawa, and a spattering of people parted the crowd as they neared, but Isaac was focused on one specific person.

“Isaac,” Sara started, stopped, then hesitantly reached out towards him, “Are-are you alright?”

He barely felt her hand pick up his arm and begin to check his pulse, eyes locked on a face he didn’t think he would be seeing again, “Maria,” Isaac addressed the woman, “I’m surprised to see you down here.”

Maria’s face flashed through a quick set of emotions; embarrassment, shame, and fear before finally settling on anger, “What?” she questioned harshly, “Now that I’m here you going to rub all of this in my face and say, ‘I told you so’?!”

“No,” Isaac replied shaking his head and removing himself from Sara’s ministrations with an appreciative smile, “The idea of being that petty didn’t even cross my mind while speaking to everyone before, let alone to you now,” He watched as another flash of shame and frustration played across Maria’s face, “Anyway, even if I was that much of a snake, we don’t have time for anything like that. I would assume that if you’re down here, you’ve been helping with the Cradles, correct?”

“Y-yes?” she stuttered in slight confusion.

“Good,” Isaac passed her, walking towards the front of the control center, forcing the group to adjust to his movement, “Then you can help everyone else here get me up to speed. We have a lot of work ahead of us and little time to complete it… and I need to make up for all the time I wasted laying around while all of you were left holding the ball.”

―――――――――

Eight-and-a-half tense hours passed, everyone collectively holding their breaths every time the news flashed with another ‘breaking alert.’ They worked at a maddening pace, like ants alerted to a threat to their hive, jumping from station to station, machine to machine, with barely a pause in-between. In the time that had passed the group had both shrunk, losing people no longer capable of focusing, their anxieties so great, or those who couldn’t put work first any further over themselves or their families, and grown in a small part, with those like Maria joining from the crowd above to assist.

At the very least their work hadn’t suffered from the ebb and flow of participants on it.

Isaac and the rest of those involved had managed to create three prototype Cradles, one an already documented failure, and the remaining two undergoing some of the last stress tests necessary to have a complete comparison between the two.

His eyes were locked to a screen, evaluating every line of diagnostic data that rolled across it, watching for even the slightest of abnormalities. This was it, the final hurdle; while neither of these versions were the most efficient, nor could they describe them as reliable without considerably more tests, they were created with one thing in mind… endurance. These Cradles would have to survive an obscene amount of abuse, near constant running, and even the slightest dip in the machine’s capacity to work could denote a death sentence of hundreds, thousands, or possibly more lives.

The left most screen flashed for a nearly imperceptible instance, a moment so small as to easily be mistaken for an errant blink, but Isaac caught it, “Halt the tests!” He yelled, running the data stream back and finding the instance of the blip, “Power failure on Cradle 02, at the… 172.32 simulated hour mark.”

A hum that had become synonymous with the room’s ambience disappeared with the powering down of the Cradles, leaving Isaac’s ears empty of the mechanical tinnitus he had become accustomed to. He worked at his jaw and popped his ears, “Seems like it’s going to be Cradle 03 then…” Isaac spoke aloud, staring at the machine in question.

“Yes, sir,” an engineer spoke up next to Isaac, “She’s a glutton. Powering her for as long as we estimate will have her taking in as much energy as a small city but, she can take it.”

Isaac chuckled at the man’s possession and humanization of the Cradle, understanding exactly what it’s like to be so wholly invested in a project to see it as more than machine or object, like a living being, “Yeah, she’ll have to.”

“Sir,” another new voice popped up, forcing Isaac to turn fully around, revealing an older gentleman, “Doctors Muñoz and Barbeau, as well as Mrs. Katagawa and Muñoz would like you to join them,” the man pointed past Isaac and out to where the prototype Cradles resided.

“Alright then, thank you for grabbing me.” Isaac nodded to both of the men in dismissal, walking away and charting a path through the chaotic movements of the workers within the center. He dodged a woman running through one of the doors and exited through it before it could close behind her. Pausing just out of the way of the entrance, Isaac listened to raised voices coming from the direction of Cradle 03 and shook his head, “I could only imagine what this is going to be about,” He thought acerbically.

As Isaac approached, the object of the group’s argument became clearer and he audibly sighed at his suspicions being confirmed, “If you have a problem with what I’m going to do, you should speak to me about it; rather than arguing between yourselves, wasting each other’s time, and getting nowhere,” His voice caused the arguments to suddenly halt, their faces looking the slightest bit chagrined with the subject of their discourse calling them out.

“There just has to be another way, Isaac!” Eli rumbled, moving towards Isaac, grabbing him by either shoulder, “Jumping blindly to your death is insane, and you know it!”

Isaac moved a hand up to one of the man’s and patted it, “Insane, maybe,” he slipped himself out of Elijah’s grasp and mimicked him by placing one of his own hands on the man’s shoulder, “However I am not taking this leap blindly, but with both eyes wide open. I know what will and may come about with my choice Eli, and I am… content.”

“But,” Isaac paused and looked past the man to Maria, Katagawa, and Sara, “I’m not going to be diving in headfirst just yet. Sara,” the taller woman snapped to attention at Isaac’s use of her name, like a recruit caught with their pants down by their sergeant, “I think before I go do anything… permanent, I should get a quick medical evaluation while our resident engineers look the Cradle over and get it prepped for proper use. Does that settle some of your fears regarding my willingness to do something so insane?”

Eli grunted in muted acceptance, while Sara moved up besides Isaac, “If you’re going to be getting any sort of evaluation, we will need to head upstairs so I can have access to everything I need and have you in the proper environment to have one.” Her tone brokered no debate, the order and her intentions clear to him.

“Of course,” Isaac acquiesced; he wouldn’t argue against Sara’s instructions… even if he knew she was going to use their time together to dissuade him from undergoing the digitization process. Isaac turned his attention away from Sara, “Misato, Maria; I trust that you can get the Cradle up for operation while Sara looks me over?”

“Yes, sir,” Katagawa answered over Maria, “In fact, it should only take us a few minutes to attach the missing fiber-optic and begin the Cradle’s full startup process.”

“Excellent,” Isaac said and turned back to look at Sara and then Eli, beginning to walk towards the room’s exit, “Then I’ll be leaving with Sara… and Eli, I would like it if you would come with me.”

“I don’t think it would be very kind of me to leave you alone in Mrs. Muñoz’s clinical grasp,” Eli’s thick brows danced as a smirk reached his eyes and lightened the worry etching his features, “Who knows what horrible things she might do to you behind closed doors.”

Sara snorted, “So long as you do not obstruct my “clinical grasp,” I would be delighted to have you with me Dr. Barbeau,” She tilted her head and pointed with a thumb in Isaac’s direction, following in his stead, “This one’s definitely going to need that brain of his checked and your expertise would be invaluable.”

“Rude,” Isaac dropped in-between the two, effecting a false and shocked falsetto, “Do you treat all of your patients with such impertinence?!”

“Only the frustrating ones.” Eli and Sara answered simultaneously, with identical deadpan presentations, causing the trio to chuckle at their mutual childishness. It was a nice moment; a reflection of a time when Sara and Eli’s eyes sparkled brightly with excitement and satisfaction, rather than the fear and anxiety that swirled in their irises presently, darkening their hue.

Isaac met the very lowest step of the stairs out, reveling in the small bright moment he shared with the two doctors, when the exit hissed open. Killian stomped out, pace quick, his eyes locked on where the third Cradle resided, seemingly… looking for something. His head swiveled, searching, passing over the control center before resting on the bottom of the steps where Isaac, Eli, and Sara stood.

Killian’s eyes met Isaac’s, and his heart dropped into his stomach at what he could see within the former soldier’s countenance, “What’s wrong, Killian?" Isaac questioned urgently, passing up the steps two at a time to meet the man on the same platform.

“Sir,” Killian started without further prompting, “We have a… situation.” There was an awkwardness to his tone, an altogether alien and worrying note to hear within the man’s voice, as well as an undercurrent of anger to his words, “Paltridge is back and he’s brought… company.”

“And I’m guessing that “company” is of the less friendly sort?” Isaac asked rhetorically.

“Yes, Sir. But,” Killian hesitated before taking a big inhale and continuing, “When you first hired me you gave me an order to look out for a person, to bar them from entry and turn them away at all costs…”

Isaac’s heart thundered in his head, his hands began to shake, and his eyes clouded as panic began to overtake him, “No, no, no, no, no…” His mind spun with vertigo, and he was forced to stumble and brace against the railing to keep himself from dropping to the floor, “Why is Paltridge with Him and what does that fucking monster want with me now?!”

Killian rested a hand on Isaac’s shoulder, helping stabilize him, the words coming out of his mouth less heard and more felt, “It’s-It’s your father, Isaac. He’s here and he’s brought a whole cadre of armed guards with him…”