"My, my, it's been a while since I've been here, you know..."
Timekeeper Cookie pulled up the garage door, peering inside the darkness and glimpsing the faint outline of the once proud Timecraft that soared through time-space itself, now reduced to a broken machine after the first accident. Timekeeper stepped closer, flicking on the light just as the garage door slammed shut. The bare light bulbs flickered twice, then stayed on, illuminating the former workshop. Time Gears and other pieces lay scattered about, while the Timecraft itself lay on its side, quite a few pieces inside missing. Removing those pieces had been necessary to create the Sonic Embroider, and Timekeeper eyed the tool, recalling that memory almost fondly.
The Embroider had become Timekeeper's invaluable companion, allowing the manipulation of spacetime itself, and with it, the ability to open, travel through, and close time rifts without even needing a pair of Timeweaver Scissors; after all, the Embroider was simply an upgrade! It required no Timecraft, and it was arguably Timekeeper's crowning mechanical achievement. The time traveler sat down next to the totaled Timecraft, recalling the chain of events that led up to now.
The "first accident" had been caused by Croissant's curious streak: she was always told to use protective goggles whenever flying through timespace, and she had always done so without question, fearful of the other outcome. But that fear was soon suppressed by curiosity, and the mechanic, tucked into her Timecraft, started the engines.
The machine hummed to life, the propellers buzzing and the screens in front of Croissant flickered on, a sure sign of a sound journey. Though, now, Croissant had no intention of following protocol; at least, not in regards to being safe. Day in and day out of work at the TBD, doing the same things every day... the mechanic grew bored of that monotony. And now that would change. Forever, Timekeeper Cookie now knew, and the past Croissant Cookie would soon find out.
The Timecraft began to inch forward as a tear in spacetime was produced by Croissant's pair of Timeweaver Scissors. She almost brought her hand up to put her goggles on, but she stopped herself. The whole point of this journey was to see what happened; any outcome would certainly beat a safe flight. Narrowing her eyes, Croissant floored the pedals, and the Timecraft whizzed forward quickly, diving right into the tear seconds before it closed, sealing Croissant's decision. What the mechanic didn't know was the pain that would follow.
A Cookie's eyes were not meant to glimpse the insides of a time rift without protection, and this rule graced Croissant's mind as her eyes began to burn. She screamed at the sudden pain, the Timecraft swerving as she brought her gloved hands to cover her eyes, though that did nothing to stop the pain. Squeezing her burning eyes shut, she scrambled for her Timeweaver Scissors to open another tear. Her hands found the device, and she used it, sending the Timecraft and herself back into the present.
Unfortunately, piloting a Timecraft blind wasn't something that was recommended by the TBD either, and the machine collided with the ground, sending Croissant flying. The mechanic hit the ground on her side, gasping at the impact as the Timecraft bounced feet above her, rolling along the ground until it stopped, completely totaled beyond repair. But Croissant's main concern was her eyes; the burning had stopped, but she hadn't opened them at all.
Lowering her head, she slowly opened her eyes. The normally brown pupils had turned bright yellow, and both had adopted a white swirl pattern in place of a normal iris. Croissant looked around; her eye sight was unaffected, but a nearby puddle gave her a look at the damage. Her eyes widened as she peered into the puddle at herself. This result... it had to be expected. This is why it was dangerous. But Croissant felt a smile tugging at the ends of her lips. While irreversible, this change was... different. It broke the monotony she had experienced for almost a year so far.
Standing up, Croissant peered over at her totaled Timecraft, her smile fading. She had wrecked her only way to enter time-space; both the Timeweaver Scissors AND the craft were required to make it through a tear before it closed; otherwise, it was impossible. Croissant peered down at her Scissors. They were undamaged, almost in pristine shape, considering a crash like that.
And, slowly, a plan formed in Croissant's head. The Timeweaver Scissors were an open blueprint, prone to improvements... and then it clicked. Croissant's smile returned, brighter and more confident than any she had cast before, because she had a plan now. The Timecraft was obsolete now; not when she could simply omit the middle man. Croissant stepped toward the Timecraft, and got to work, pulling out wires and parts she had so meticulously welded in before.
The Timecraft and the Scissors would become one device on that day: the Sonic Embroider. And that was only the start of this Croissant Cookie's transformation into the Timekeeper everyone knew today.
Timekeeper blinked slowly, waking up from the dream. It wasn't often that Timekeeper would slip into sleep so seamlessly, but it was almost storybook for reality and recollections to flow so well. The time traveler didn't often revel in their own past as much as they reveled in the past they could change, but this was different. Standing up, Timekeeper glanced back at the Timecraft, still in disrepair and on its side. And they smiled, one that held the genuineness of the Croissant Cookie they once were.
"Thank you, old friend. Without you, this wouldn't have exactly been possible." And they took their leave, leaving fond memories to become even fonder with the passing of time.