The tower was quiet, as a blankly staring Clockwork flicked through various timelines, all at once. There were countless screens covering the tower walls now, the only places where there were none being the doorways and the floor. Most of the clocks were broken as well, and gears lied strewn about the floor. But those things weren't important. Only the web of timelines was important.

'Webs...' He subconsciously corrected, remembering the duplicate he had in another room, watching a completely different set of screens, of which watched over a new web of timelines, still small and little more than 10 years old.

And inside one of the many lines, within that young web, was a full ghost and his child, eating breakfast at a table they'd built together. In 12 more minutes they would be getting up to clean, before they would head towards the laboratory in their basement. Once inside, they would make their way to a hole in the wall, and the full ghost would flip a switch, turning that space into a gateway between worlds.

The child would then turn into his ghostly half, a form with snow-white hair, crimson eyes, dagger-like fangs, and a core of the darkest ice, before he would follow the full ghost through the portal. The two would then explore it, and laugh while leaving destruction in their wake, taking the lives of many of this other world's inhabitants, guilty or not, like one great big game. And once they were done they would return home, and do the same to the people of their world.

And Clockwork would just watch them, his gaze lifeless, as his timelines continued to move along in perfect order, no errors or forced branches to be seen. Everyone would follow the paths set in place for them with little care, and no knowledge as to where the path may lead, just as the Observants had wanted them to in the first place.

And every once in a while, said Observants would come in and double-check the time master's work while asking about the previously prevented errors, new timelines, if he was feeling alright, or some other nonsense before leaving after receiving no response other than a rueful muttering of. "Everything is all as it's supposed to be, just like you asked."

And every passing moment, once he'd returned to his solitude, he would get this feeling. This feeling that left him wondering if everything really was in its place. If everything really was "as it's supposed to be." And this would lead to the time master double, and occasionally triple, checking his work, searching for anything he could have possibly missed in his prevention of flaws in the Observants wanted timeline. And, as he would do so, he would begin to wonder about the strangest things.

Like his friend.

He wondered how his friend was doing, and where he was. He wondered if he was with his other friends, or coming to visit him in his clock tower to bring his unique self and his wonderfully, nigh unpredictable, nature, courtesy of his special gift and the time master's help. He would even wonder if the boy would decide to stay once he arrived for a few hours and talk to him. When was the last time he held a conversation lasting for more than a sentence? ...When had he last held a conversation?

And that question would then remind Clockwork of a very important detail: He didn't have any friends.

As the master of time, Clockwork didn't have the time or need for friendship. His purpose was to keep time stable, and watch that full ghost and his child for whatever reason he couldn't bother to, or wanted to, remember. It was what he was always supposed to do, and straying from that now to go and make friends would be like taking a well-paying job and stepping on it to sit inside of a house and do absolutely nothing for the rest of his life.

He didn't have friends, he didn't want friends, and he didn't need friends. He had the timeline. That was all he had, wanted, and needed... Wasn't it?

Looking back at the ghost and his child, Clockwork couldn't help but focus on the young halfa. He was an 11 year-old-boy on the screen he was watching, his human half with raven hair and bright blue eyes. He was always happy, especially when he was in the ghost zone with his father. And while normally Clockwork was never concerned with people, much less children, something about him was familiar.

But, of course, that was bound to happen. It only makes sense that, at some point in time, people would look alike. And Clockwork's seen literally everyone that was, is, and will be, so it shouldn't have been that big a deal. But it was, and it made so little sense that the time master actually hurt inside.

His very core ached with the absurdity of this one child seeming familiar to him. But then... was that really the reason? Or was it because this child reminded him of his friend? And then Clockwork would remember, and he would remind himself as his duplicates became one again. "I have no friends... Not anymore."