A few hours later, in the silent room, a young man sat at a desk with a concentrated expression. His hands moved slowly as a white, chubby panda-shaped clock lay quietly on the table. A watchmaker’s loupe in front of his squinted eyes, allowed him to distinguish the small engraved lines on the broken pieces.

Carefully, he used a glue-coated toothpick to fill in the cracks and, finally, attached the broken clock hands in place. The morning sun shone on his face through the window, causing beads of sweat to stream down his forehead.

Suddenly, someone broke the silence.

“Young Caldwell, sorry to disturb your work, but I have finished for the day. I left your lunch served on the table, try to eat it before it gets cold to avoid stomach aches. Ah!.. And please, don’t forget that tomorrow is your treatment, Doctor Ron is a very busy person, don’t make him wait like the previous times.” The farewell of the woman echoed through the bedroom door.

“I get it, Siria, until tomorrow. Thank you very much for your help today…” Brown Caldwell replied politely from his seat after removing his glasses, maintaining a weak but spirited tone.

“You praise me too much, Young Caldwell, I’m just doing what I’m paid for,” the old woman said kindly before departing and shutting the door.

The boy gave a smile at this statement and, when he was sure the woman had left the house, he muttered sarcastically.

“I know you’re paid for it, Syria. It’s a pity that it’s not my family that does it.”

After a brief shake of his head, he returned his attention to the table. The panda clock was almost fixed; he just needed to clean the residues to avoid interference with the small circuits.

His mother knew that he liked animals, especially pandas, so she strained her weak body and crafted a clock in this shape before her passing.

Brown almost had a panic attack and pulled his hair out when, upon confirming he had gone back in time, he realized he had personally broken the only remaining gift from her.

So here he was, with a few less strands of hair, trying to restore it.

It wasn’t simple. Leaving aside that the elements of this world differed a lot from those of Earth, the tools at his disposal were outdated compared to the future. So he had to wait until Siria arrived to ask her to buy some necessary materials.

“And… you’re ready!” Brown exclaimed loudly, lifting the clock into the air.

The beams of light illuminated the object, causing the hands inside to spin strangely. A small white paste had welded them together, but it was not noticeable on the outside.

Making sure again that the resin sealed any internal energy leaks, he was satisfied and put the tools away in the drawer. Then, he placed his mother’s gift back on the nightstand. In a short time, it would be telling the correct time again without the need for external manipulation, something that was only possible with the technology of this world.

«I hope I can protect you this time,» he wished without hope. He wasn’t even sure he could save himself, much less a watch. Even with all his future knowledge, a single word or action could change the course of history in an unpredictable way.

“Well…” He stretched his back until some bones cracked, and looked at the panda-clock whose hands were still disoriented. “…The next thing to do is to place myself chronologically”

It’s not that he had been idle during this time-lapse, on the contrary, he had taken advantage of it to calm his emotions and avoid being impulsive. After all, the more than one hundred ways he had thought of to assassinate Siria had as many holes in them as a colander.

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If he wasn’t sure he could defeat her with certainty, it was better not to mess with that dangerous woman.

“Huh…” he lay on the bed and waited patiently. It was not rare for the old woman to come back for some trivial reason, something that caused a lot of trouble when he wanted to perform his private affairs, Cough, so he had to endure a few minutes.

His feet tapped, giving small thumps on the floor, while his head messed up the sheets. Just as the uncomfortable softness was about to irritate him, the ticking of the clock stabilized completely and began to sound rhythmically.

The break was over.

11:05.

Brown sprang up. He looked out the window, making sure not to see Siria’s silhouette, and walked back to the desk.

However, his steps halted for a second.

The impatience that overwhelmed him was covered by the sigh that left his lungs.

“It’s better to do it quickly rather than keep postponing this,” he said sadly. One reason why he distracted himself for so long, was that he didn’t want to bring some events back to his memory. Yet, it was time to face them.

He sat down with reluctance, taking out a parchment of leather and a feather from the drawers, and then began to recall:

“Were it 5 years living on the streets? No, it was 4. Before the night of blood, the war came…”

He didn’t mind the scenes of carnage and cries of pain that arose in his head, but, a wounded Warbeast in the midst of those images made him whisper a name.

“Kel...”

Brown continued filling the sheet with more force, as if he wanted to go through some memories faster.

Minutes later, when he was almost finished writing, his mood had returned to normal.

“...Now, if we add the Lowtow jail and the year in the lab, I should have lived for 21 years in the future...” Brown concluded his chronological age and the number caught his attention.

He added the 14 of his current body and said with a frown.

“They were 30 years on Earth and 35 years in this world… Does my soul have 65 years in total?”

It was then that he realized that he had aged, and a sad smile formed on his face. Although humans on this planet could live up to 200 or 250 years if they stayed healthy, it does not change the fact that at this age he should already have grandchildren.

He sighed, “No lover, no child. What was the point of living so long?” The lack of will was palpable in his tone.

“Poor and sick on Earth, weak and unable to absorb aura here, two limiting debuffs at the start of the game. If you even give me the title of [Disaster Magnet]…” Brown looked up at the sky and asked sarcastically, “…Hylia… Are you looking for a replacement for Link?”

Then he chuckled.

As someone with many traumas, he was already used to living with his mood fluctuating like the flames of a candle.

Since he betrayed his friends to save his own skin, leaving them to die while waiting for his help, something seemed to break inside him. Maybe it was at that moment that his personality twisted in a strange way so as not to go completely crazy.

Joking about things from Earth, or lamenting his fate, were two ways to release his pent-up emotions. Others include: Making money, getting revenge on his enemies, studying the objects of this world, murdering those who have wronged him, training his Warbeast, letting his Warbeast eat those with hostility… Although the last one was difficult to achieve since he was a terrible trainer, the large number of options proved that he had many strange hobbies.

“Since I found out how old I am, where should I go to apply for retirement?” he joked a bit. It was a pity that this world would never let anyone be at peace. History proved it with bloody battles.

“It’s not time to reflect on trivialities. I need to know what shit they’re going to throw at me soon…” Small murmurs came out of his lips.

“…If the memories of my young body are correct and, according to the calendar of the Free Federation, today would be…” He added and subtracted, “…May 1, 1503?”

He frowned for a second and, confirming again that he had not made a mistake, a kind of suspicion arose in his heart. He already had some preconceived ideas about the era to which he had gone back, but there was something strange about the date.

“The day is too auspicious and coincidental, too coincidental…”, he continued murmuring.

Then, as if remembering something, he abruptly stood up from his chair and looked at the time on the panda clock.

The hands were pointing to 12:05.

Brown felt the intense heat of the environment and inferred that it was noon. Obviously the absence of darkness, and the brightness that came through the window, helped in this deduction.

“Did I just waste a few seconds reasoning whether it’s day or night? Even when the sun is annoying my eyes?”, he asked himself, stunned.

His little habits sometimes took detours in the face of the obvious. Anyway, he was right on time to save someone.

Or, better said, to take credit for pretending to save someone.