"Wh- where am I? Who am I?"

"It is your duty to keep the clockwork doll alive. Do not fail."

So I was put here, in the theater, guarding and tending to the clockwork doll. Every day way the same. Turn the key, turn the key.

I had no way of seeing into the living world, but the vessels spoke to me. They told me their tales. I thought myself above them; I would never fall into such a trap, never fall prey to such temptation. But in reality, I know I would have.

Then, when the memories came, I knew I already had.

Greed. That's what they referred to me as. My ancestor, Gallerian Marlon, had built this place with good intentions. But in time, he turned corrupt, as did his desires. Being reborn with this legacy, it was only fitting I watch over his theater. Turn the key, turn the key.

The vessels told me I was the same as them. They're wrong. I'm worse. My vessel sits in the theater with the rest, but I've already become separate. It's nothing more than an empty spoon now.

I grew tired of my position. The clockwork doll showed no sign of slowing or stopping, yet I was still forced to stay here. Sometimes, a new vessel awoke. First was the glass, who was here before I was. Master of the Graveyard was the title she took, devouring anyone who trespassed. Slowly, others came as well. The mirror was soon after my arrival. She became the Waiter. She sometimes looked longingly at the other mirror, her kagami, and muttered about failing her other half. However, she always acted haughty whenever she knew someone was watching.

The sword and scissors never moved. They often spoke to me, but never showed signs of awakening. I never saw the forest's awoken form. Well, I suppose that's not true. I saw her once, as Marlon. When he made the foolish decision to keep his money and fell into Hell with only the hope his dream would someday come true. How could he not see the hole he was digging for himself, I may never know. Turn the key, turn the-

Then, today, everything changed. The clockwork doll… is slowing. It's dying. The gears are wearing out, the key not functioning anymore. I've tried everything to get it moving again.

"Do not fail." The instructions, the only thing I knew for sure, echo through my mind. I can't let her die. It is my duty to make sure she stays alive. I search for a way to save her, but time is running out. The Master of the Graveyard offers no help, neither do any of the others.

It's almost stopped. I can't let her die! I frantically rack my brain. Then, a thought occurs to me. The gears inside her are like a heart. If I was to place a heart inside, she would continue to run.

My hand slowly moves, then comes to rest on my chest. A heart…

I push all fear from my mind. It is my duty. I dig my hand into my own flesh, my fingers closing around my beating heart. It hurts… hurts unbearably. But, I must continue. I gasp as I pull it out, the heart looking so fragile in my hand. I somehow stagger into position, and carefully remove the pieces that are no longer needed. Gently, so as not to break her, I place my heart inside. I breathe deeply, making sure she works. Slowly, gently, turn the key, turn the key.

I hear the faint sound of the gears turning. I sigh, a relieved smile hovering about my lips.

"She will live."

Then, something strange happened. The doll's head turned towards me, its soft green eyes staring into mine. Her mouth opened, and she began to speak.

"Th...ank... you…" She said, the words feeling strange on her tongue. Then, her brow furrowed. "But… you cannot be… per...mitted to… stay in this… theater."

"Why- why not?"

"A… heartless servant… cannot serve from… the inside. I no longer… need you… to watch over me."

I feel like my heart had been ripped from my body. I suppose it has been. "Where will I go?"

"You… cannot return… to the living… world. You must… stay outside the… theater."

My blood drips onto the shining floor. I've lived here for my entire life. Now… I must leave? "I- I cannot stay here? I have to live out the rest of my life right outside these doors?"

Her wooden face creases into a slight smile. "Do not… think I am not… grateful. But… I must carry out my… duties as you must… yours." Her hand comes up and strokes my face, which is now wet with tears. "You look… just like my… father. Brave, brave Gear. I owe you… my life."

I bow low. "It was simply my duty, miss."

"I am now… the Master of… this court. And you…" She takes a shaky step forwards, leading me out the door. "Perhaps… when his… Utopia is… complete, you and I… will meet again."

"Perhaps we shall," I say.

As the door closes behind me, I take a seat on the steps. My chest aches, but at least I am still alive. And so is she.

I know, these wounds will heal someday.

But this idea of Utopia… I shake my head. Once His dream comes true, all of this will come to an end. And that means everything. My sacrifice will mean nothing.

...and everything will disappear.

But, until then, I can rest. Turn my key, turn my key. Beat, my heart.

Beat, my heart.