It is about ten thousand years into Arthur's "reign" by the time that he realises that there is something he had missed before. Something so blindingly obvious that he couldn't believe he missed it at all.
Everything has happened before.
He is no more the "New Architect" anymore than the previous incarnation was the "Old Architect". Or to be more precise, the previous Architect was once the "New Architect", coming from a long line of architects who had come before her. They merely reboot the system every million years or so, making occasional adjustments to the House and to the Secondary Realms. The Architects themselves seem to be driven by something else, beyond even their understanding.
True, the trappings have changed in this "reign". Instead of a distant and arrogant Lord, there is a lively Lady in the Incomparable Gardens, who will carry the Art's children, however many they decide to have in the end. Scamandros runs the Upper House, although Art can already see a tint of green in his eyes as he glances upwards. The clouds have been banished now, but the hole from the last Saturday's invasion is still gaping, exposed and inviting, if only the doctor can summon enough willpower to go against the new Architect...
And Fred, originally placed in command of the Grand Army, has since retreated into Merchant Marine, to gorge himself on the fine foods that are collected there, whilst Giac has taken control of the Middle House, although his experiences with emotions are leading him down a dangerous path, one that has been trodden before by another perfectly capable Day.
And Leaf, beautiful, perfect Leaf, now well into her thirties, was plucked out of her own world mere nanoseconds before she was killed in a car accident, has been placed in charge of the Grand Army instead. Furious at not being allowed to die, she rants and raves, assaulting all who are unfortunate enough to come into contact with.
Art tries to keep it together, he really does. He tries to do things differently, to avoid the same mistakes, and he does to a certain degree. The pomp and circumstance of the previous architect has been swept aside, replaced with a much more sinister, secretive environment, almost reminiscent of some of the old spy movies Arthur used to watch when he was much younger. The Gardens are different as well - not nearly as Incomparable as they could have been, as they have been previously, with weeds and ruins filling the once perfectly maintained ovals.
But after thousands, millions of years, Art grows tired. So tired, and he knows Arthur is getting sick of being immortal on Earth as well. Perhaps it would be best to let things run their course, and pass the baton onto a new Architect to deal with. Surely, after all he has done, Art deserves to rest now...?