Clockwork watched on passively, viewing the screen with what any outsider would call disinterest. But they were enraptured by the image. They did not dare to tear their eyes from it, lest the prophecy disappear before their eyes.
Timelines snaked through the air. They wove around Clockwork, within them even. Time was to Clockwork as time was to the fabric of existence. It only took a small touch here, a guiding hand there. A bit of poking and prodding. But it had all culminated in this. Clockwork could not see into eternity, but this image had been brewing in their Sight for quite a long time.
Despite what it may seem, Clockwork was not emotionless. In fact, they were deeply invested in every life that spread beneath their fingertips. But they all ended too soon. Each thread Clockwork had drifted towards had been snapped. It was not a malicious thing, it was simply the order of the world. But oh, how they yearned for chaos. And chaos they would have.
It wasn't often that a string turned blue.
In the current Time, the string was still such a fragile white. Woven from soft threads that could snap oh so, so easily. All it would take would be a nudge.
The string glowed green, such an alien glimmer. So rare. But it was not enough.
The images on the screen Shifted.
Within, a young boy - and he was still so very young, so fragile- walks down an aisle. He pauses at the end, kneeling before a dias. His eyes are full of tears, which cling to his white lashes like dew. But his lip does not wobble. His shoulders would not shake. He stands strong, even with such a heavy weight being laid upon him.
Clockwork's own hands came into frame. They held a crown, the Crown. His Crown.
The craft of wrought metal was set upon His head. Knees would have buckled, were He not already on them.
They help Him up, allowing Him to stand even though all He wants to do is collapse.
He would take his seat with only slight difficulty. A King and His Throne and His Crown and His Ring, united together at last. Sharp, steel-blue would weave itself into the fibers.
Clockwork would not be alone. Eternity would stretch before them, together.
Later, He would return to the human realm. He would stand among them and they would not even know the glory in their presence. Blind.
He hugs his companions, lashes now a dark black like the midnight ocean. But their strings are still so thin. It is only a matter of time until they wear themselves to fraying.
It will be a good lesson for Him. He will learn who He can rely on, depend on. Who shall be there for the rest of His days. For all of them. Until the fabric chews itself up and begins anew, they will be together.
Clockwork finally abandoned the screen. They wish not to see their future with Him. They want to experience it for themself. For now, they go to view the boy asleep on their couch. This boy, so small, curled into Clockwork's cape and clinging onto it for comfort. Shivers racked his body, and Clockwork pulled the cloak tighter around him.
Bruises littered his mottled skin. He had not slept in days. Fight after fight and punch after punch. So fragile.
Desperate, he had called out to Clockwork. Of course, they had been watching. They're always watching. They extended a Hand and he took it.
It did not do mortals any good to rest in a place timeless such as Clockwork's lair. But then again, he wouldn't be mortal for long.
"Sweet dreams, my Daniel." They pressed a kiss to his hair.