Clockwork hates his job at moments like this.

He can only stare at a screen, helpless to act, or turn and watch the sand in the hourglasses suddenly rush to the end when they could have poured on for another few decades.

Clockwork knows everything, sees everything, but as per his agreement with the Observants he really is powerless to act, unless given express permission or if it does not permanently alter the time stream. But because he sees everything, he knows what those people could have become.

One of them could have become a doctor, well on his way to finding a way to cure cancer patients without damaging them further with chemotherapy or radiation or developing a vaccine for HIV.

One of them could have run for presidency, and upon her success she would have helped in the efforts to reform the United States into a more peaceful, stable country.

So many limitless possibilities.

But the parade can only go down one road. And unfortunately, that road is the one with the painful potholes.

Sometimes being the Master of Time really sucks. So much power hums at the tips of his fingers, and yet he can do little to release it, little of anything really. He could...he could save them all if he wanted.

But he can't.

(Accursed Observants.)

So he stares at his screens, gripping his staff with a white-knuckled grip, and replays the scene over and over, looking for tiny things he could manipulate to lessen the outcome, save so much grief.

(He can't, he knows. There are no loopholes... but he can try, right?)

He's cried, sometimes. He has a heart. He knows that these are innocent people, selfless people, people who deserve better. But death is a part of life, and souls as pure as those will not be held down by unfulfilled obsessions or sent below to a world of fire and brimstone. They will ascend, and be free of the horror of the world. Someday, their families will join them, and they will truly be at peace.

But Clockwork has felt tears welling in his eyes before as he watches the world pass. He wonders if he could manipulate Danny or Vlad or, heck, even the Box Ghost into a position where they could prevent the loss of lives.

The Observants keep him from trying. They're not that powerful compared to him, but he knows how many of them there are and he really doesn't want to take any chances. They'd leave the world more damaged than what the humans do to it on their own.

It makes him wonder, sometimes, how humanity even rose to such power. Then he goes back a few thousand years and watches the evolution of man and realizes it was probably just luck of the draw.

When he fast forwards again, he watches tragedies such as this and can't help but wonder about why he even had to allow humanity to rise. They could all be living happily as monkeys while super-intelligent mice ruled or something.

(...Yes, he realizes it sounds stupid. But it helps, just a little bit. He might be as old as the universe itself but he has a heart, too.)

Now, of course, the only thing he can really do is make sure all the little souls ascend safely, without any further mishaps. And he continues watching.

Because in the meantime, the world keeps spinning. It cannot stop because innocent souls were lost.

It's the way the world works, unfortunately.

Clockwork hates it.

But there's not much he can do, except hope.

(Because hope counts for something, doesn't it?)

In loving memory of the victims of the Sandy Hook Elementary shooting almost a year ago now...and also the Aurora movie theater shooting, Columbine, heck every single victim of a mass shooting you can possibly recall...

Because they really were taken too soon.

(I do not claim to own Danny Phantom, or any recognizable characters. All rights go to Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon.)