TIMELINE 3
Memory of Maddened Obsession

Summary: He couldn't save her. There's always a solution if a possibility exists, Machina kept telling himself as he spiraled down into madness, relinquishing any last trace of sanity he had in order to bring Mariabella back from the death. It was worth to lose his mind if it was for her.
Rating: R-15/T
Pairing/Characters: Machina x Mariabella. Rezzard.

Author's Notes: This one is our last timeline of the story, and it's only one chapter long. Honestly, I don't know how I'd write anything else for this timeline and I don't want to think too much about it anyway. Not quite an AU this time. This one goes from the "What would Machina actually be willing to do in order to bring her back? How did her death change him and what happened from then on?" kind of questions.

Written on Jan 2017

"I know it will bring you utmost joy to have your dream fulfilled, Master, so please… don't hate me for doing this." Her frail, delicate voice spoke in the recorded video she left before it happened. She had tears in her eyes, but the look on them was sincere and determined. She was going to do it. Machina was witnessing the last minutes of his assistant's short and tragic life, as she decided to leave a record behind before she ended things by her own hand. "Perhaps it's a selfish wish. I know I cannot live much longer, so this is my will to live on through your experiments. I am forever thankful for everything you did for me. These past months have been the happiest of my life, all thanks to you. So please… don't hate me, Master…"

Machina hadn't been the same since he found her lifeless body on the main lab that fateful evening past week. He rarely ate anything, he had not taken a bath, he didn't speak to anybody in his manor, he never got out of the house. Overall, he had stopped caring for his own well being since then. His eyes were popped and red from all the tears he had shed and he hadn't shaved even once, so he looked ragged and unclean. He had lost at least twenty pounds in so little time he had begun to look like a living corpse himself. The maids were worried, but there was nothing they could do.

He'd drag himself up and down the stairs with an empty stare and he'd enter the lab with heavy feet. He'd stare at the coffin he still kept on the corner of the room, expecting the body inside of it to spring back up to life. His own affected state of mind made it impossible for him to take her to the cemetery, he'd usually break down whenever someone spoke of the matter. He'd never open the lid of the casquet, though. He was too scared to look at her, to meet her face to face after everything had been his fault. He kept the heart on a crystal jar besides the coffin, covered with a cloth so he'd not look at it. The heart, which Mariabella managed to remove perfectly from her own chest, glistened with the girl's willpower, thus making it impossible for Machina to stay too much time inside the lab without feeling anxious.

He'd then crawl to his room and cry himself to sleep on his bed, but the nightmares would wake him up within minutes, screaming in fear. Cold sweat would be running down his spine and his temple and he'd whimper words of comfort until he was stable again. Machina was slowly losing his mind, if he didn't manage to get any closure on the matter, he'd go crazy any minute now. He missed her. He missed Mary's usual blabbering and her childish laughter. He missed his assistant's unexperienced comments and her youthful advice, things he had forgotten after too much years of study. He missed hearing her tiny steps being followed by that robot cat she had built as she skipped across the hall, down into the kitchen, just to grab a midnight snack. He missed her. He missed her so much it hurt.

When the nightmares were worse, however, he'd adventure himself into her chambers. She wasn't the tidiest of children, but that evening she left the world she had decided to leave everything in place, and as clean as proper as possible. The few stuffed animals she had were all laying in the bed where she'd left them, gathering dust as no one would ever play with them again. The small automatons Machina had gifted her during numerous times of the year were lined up on her desk, never to be moved once more. Her clothes were perfectly ordered on her wardrobe, and they still had a lingering memory of her scent.

He'd usually read her papers, orderly placed on her desk, or he'd take a quick peek to her diary. Mary had left it open on her nightstand with a note that said she allowed her Master to take it if he wished so, or he could just discard it. Her childish handwriting told her tragic story, and Machina was unable to go beyond page 10 every time he picked it up. She had several video logs she had registered while working on her desk and Machina would usually watch them just to hear her voice or watch the phantom images of her so that he'd not forget how Mary looked or sounded like. She'd be fixing something he had ordered her to do or she'd be working on her own experiments, but she'd usually do it cheerfully and with extra commentary. His favorite one, perhaps, was the one where she taught that tinmen automaton how to make a silly dance. She looked so happy and so proud of herself when the robot imitated her. She looked so alive. Mary only had one framed picture of her and her family, as a memento of the life she'd lost, and another one that had been made by one of the servants of the two of them. She smiled shyly on the second picture and had a slight blush on her face, as Machina's hands grabbed firmly on her shoulder. If only he'd known he would not be seeing that smile again, he'd have taken a lot more pictures before it was too late.

The only thing that moved around the room was the robot cat she had built. It was almost as if it was alive, as its sensors triggered every time Machina entered the room and the small creature coiled itself around his feet. Perhaps it believed it was Mariabella who had returned to pet it or charge its batteries, but she'd never come back to play with the "Nekobot", as she had named it. Eventually it would run out of energy, but Machina promised himself to recharge it every once in awhile. Mary would have liked that.

After a week and a half had passed, the same day he finally gathered the courage to mail her family a letter about her passing, he had terrible nightmares again. He saw her drowning on a frozen lake but no matter how much he smashed his fists against the ice, he'd not reach her on time and the small girl would die on his arms, completely drenched by the lakewater and his own tears. His chest moved violently as he tried to calm himself once he awoke, but he knew there could only be one way to fix his anxious attack. He dressed himself once again and walked towards her room in complete silence. He'd usually sit on her bed or he'd drag out the chair in front of her desk and he'd stare blindly at the ceiling until the panic was gone. Then, he'd wander around the room, enjoying the minimal traces that were left of her. But that evening, as soon as he opened the door, he noticed the cat wasn't moving.

He walked towards the small robot and tried to find its energy source, but he noticed the Nekobot had no entrance for a charger, nor any joints that lead to believe it could use a pair of batteries. He stared at it in amazement... had Mariabella actually managed to bring something to life? Even if it was just a small mechanical kitten? Machina grabbed the cat from its torso and realized something else: he'd just left the kitten to die. If he had paid more attention, he'd have noticed he'd not nourished the small 'animal' with any source of energy it required ever since Mariabella died. He'd not worried to ask anybody if they knew how she had managed to do it. It was another 'life' he had taken for being so aloof, so distant from reality. Machina sat on the floor this time, cradling the lifeless body of the cat on his arms as he felt silent tears streaming down his cheeks.

After spending the whole night without any sleep, sitting on her bedroom's floor until past 3am, he carried the cat towards his lab. Perhaps he'd be able to fix it, in the end, it had no organical parts inside of it, as far as he knew. But no matter how hard he tried, he noticed there was no hope for the cat to come back as it was before. One time he did manage to make its eyes flutter with energy, but it never sprang up to life ever again. Perhaps it was karma or a symbolism he should be reflecting on. But Machina was going out of his mind by then. Dark thoughts had begun to pester his brain, and one terrible evening he did what he'd not dared to do for weeks straight: he opened the casket.

She was still there, with her eyes closed, and it seemed not a day had passed since she died. Mary was looking as peaceful as if she was just taking a nap, and she'd wake up from it anytime soon. His original intention was to place the cat inside the coffin, so it'd keep her company in the afterlife, but the minute he saw her, as fresh, pristine and beautiful as she'd always been, Machina's mind began to break. He began elaborating plans and projects that went beyond science and machinery. Necromancy, alchemy, astrology, thanatology, all those things he had deemed heretical nonsense started to make a lot of sense now that he was desperate to try anything. The Mechanical Emperor fired all maids and servants from the manor and locked himself up in his lab, as he kept the coffin closed so he'd not get distracted by the source of his nightmares. But he was sure he could bring her back. For the first time since forever, he took a look at the mechanical heart that rested on the crystal jar. If he paid attention closely, he noticed it still beat slowly. He could bring her back! There was a possibility!

One night, however, things went south real quick. It all happened after he'd managed to put himself back on his feet and even if he focused all of his energy into finishing his new research, which had driven him to the brink of madness. He was so concentrated on his notes he'd not noticed someone had climbed up his window and was staring at him with utmost curiosity.

"Well, well, rumors are true. You've gone completely bonkers." The voice startled him and Machina dropped his cup of coffee all over the desk. He sighed and picked up the mess as quick as he could, ignoring the source of the voice as best as he could. His presence didn't bring any good news, and in fact, him being here made Machina nervous.

"What are you doing here, Rezzard?" He asked with a husky voice. It had been days since he had last spoken that his throat ached as the words came out.

"Hmm, I was strolling down at my palace around a month ago, reading my book as always, when I noticed that name on red letters had finally turned gray." He smiled a satisfied grin. "However, since past week, I believe I've seen those gray letters getting a nasty and annoying tint of pink. Perhaps you know something about it, milord?" Rezzard mocked, taking out the Book of the Death from his coat. He turned the pages quickly, trying to find the name.

"It's none of your business." Machina grunted, pulling Rezzard inside the palace and shoving him out of the lab. He was such an annoying kid, and Machina was even more upset he'd managed to find a way to teleport himself from graveyard to graveyard after he discovered his powerful abilities amongst the dead and the Underworld. "Now, please, leave."

"No." Rezzard's smirk turned into a terrifying grin, which bared his fangs dangerously. "No, I'm sure you'd like to hear me out, milord. First of all, you should stop this crazy endeavour of yours. My book doesn't lie, and the ink on your name doesn't look as fresh as it should be. Your obsessions, your madness, they're going to kill you."

"So be it. Now get out." Machina ordered, pushing the youngster outside of the lab. "I'm sure you came with your parents, now, get back to your home."

"Ah, sir… I bet you didn't know about it. My parents… well… how to put it?" He kept smirking and it made Machina even more nervous. Rezzard always knew too much. "They're not as alive as I'd have wanted. At least my dear mother isn't."

Machina understood what he meant. He'd heard some sort of freak accident had happened on their manor some months ago, but he didn't imagine Riza and Melder didn't make it out. Words have been moving slowly even since then and, being completely honest, ever since Mariabella died he'd not give a damn about them. However, there was something odd in the way Rezzard had phrased his sentence. They are not as alive as I'd have wanted…

"What did you do to them?" Machina asked, scared.

"Heh… what if I told you I can bring your dear assistant back to life?" Machina's eyes opened wide in surprise, and he was willing to listen to whatever he had to say. Had his sanity had decreased so much he was betting his hopes on Rezzard…? No. Whatever logic he had left of his mind told him not to trust him. The child, not older that Mary himself, was unable to control the powers he had discovered. Machina knew that for certain.

"I'll listen to you just once." Machina doubted his own thoughts and decided to pay a second of his time to him. "Afterwards, you'll leave."

"Thanks, milord! You see, I discovered a technique to bring the dead back to life… however, my craft is forbidden in most places and as such, I've not perfected it yet." His grin grew larger, if that was even possible. "If someone as powerful as the King of Leginus, with whom I share a common interest of reviving the dead, would allow me to realize some experiments on some fresh corpses around his city… well, I might as well perfect the craft in no time. His beloved assistant would be back to his arms if this happened, 100% guaranteed."

"Necromancy is not safe." It wasn't like Machina hadn't investigated the topic himself. "Besides, it's never been proven useful before."

"Ah, that's because my predecessors didn't have my talent, nor the resources necessary to do so!" He patted Machina on the arm and the older man felt a shiver run down his spine. It wasn't his sanity kicking in to save him, but mere wit and instinct telling him not to trust any word that came out of the young necromancer's mouth.

"I'm not interested. Now leave." He glared at him and Rezzard pouted, like the little kid he was. He shrugged and ran back to the window he had crawled from and jumped down into the snow, where he vanished as he walked down the street. From afar, Machina could only distinguish his coat blowing with the wind.

He knew he couldn't trust unfounded methods like those. He had studied them before and he knew they weren't the answer. No, the true answer to bringing her back laid on the heart. The mechanical valve kept beating, slowly and quietly, but every few minutes it'd pulsate some Will out of it's core. Machina observed it with morbid curiosity and analyzed the possibilities from whatever topics he'd roamed around, down to concrete proof. The body may rot and die, but the soul remains. That's why necromancy didn't work: the bodies were left behind whilst the soul had vanished long ago. Whatever Rezzard suggested implied using the body inside the coffin, but it never had anything to do with the heart and the soul inside the jar.

He wondered… perhaps leaving the physical entity behind was necessary to complete his research. If the soul could be transported into a mechanical core… if that was the case, both his previous research and the new one could be completed together! Just how blind had he been not notice he could bring her back by giving her a new, healthier and stronger body? Machina smirked. Perhaps it was time to take Mary's body to her final resting place. He'd decided to bury her beneath that large weeping willow she liked so much in the garden. Yes, he was sure Mary would have liked that. But, perhaps, he could give her a second chance. He knew he didn't have much time to craft her the most beautiful body he could think of, as he wasn't sure if the heart would be able to remain alive much time, but he could do something with it. It was a promise he planned to keep, no matter what. After being such a blind fool all that time, it was the least he could do.