Isaac Newton once said the universe was like a great clock, a perfect machine. The clockmaker, God in this instance, only makes the clock and then sets it going, stepping back and letting it go on its own once His work is done.
Newton was half-right. God was a clockmaker; the universe is a clock. But clocks break down, wear over time.
So every once in a while, the clockmaker has to step in.
The first grind in the metaphysical gears is the infant slug specimen Will coughed up. A little bit of mental deduction went as follows.
The slug was flushed down the sink of the Byers household. Not a problem in itself, but the slug had to survive, and it had to make its way to Henderson's house. The slugs gestating in the slowly growing tunnels underneath the town would be sustained by the Mind Flayer, true, but the slug Will had unwittingly been a host to didn't have that same connection. It had to gain sustenance, something it wouldn't find crawling through the sewers. It would starve to death.
And if it starved… the kids in the tunnels would die. Eleven might succeed in closing the gate, but once the next invasion attempt rolled around…
His Employers would not be pleased with the result.
To have to step in so soon after setting things on the right path the first time was… irritating, He couldn't lie.
But, no matter how irritating it was… the children could not be allowed to die. Not like they were chosen ones, or anything of the like. But they were a culmination. A culmination of a trillion years placing the correct pieces into the correct spots.
Earth had to remain unharmed until 200-. From there, the floodgates could open. But until that decade, the Earth had to be kept intact.
The Mind Flayer was a colossal threat, to be sure. But it was only a pilot fish compared to the greater forces out there. Once those greater forces got to Earth… there had to be as many humans on the planet as possible, else, the species would go extinct during the initial invasion.
So, that was why He was being forced to wade through a cosmos-forsaken sewer, looking for a slug that couldn't be told apart from half the excrement in the place.
Had He been human, He'd be repulsed beyond the capacity for thought.
He was not human.
Even the most harmful, destructive parasite was just a microbe to Him.
Including the parasite He searched for now. He didn't even need to consciously devote even a fraction of His being to making sure the waste didn't ruin His exterior.
Tilting His head, the tiny black slug floated up, wriggling in the air in terror.
It then is just a simple matter of making the trek to Henderson's. It's simple for Him, of course. Unlike humans, He is not bound by the limitations of Euclidian geometry. Every point in time in space is always accessible from every other point, it is only a matter of knowing the right path.
He makes the trek to Halloween night, not long before Henderson returns home. He lifts the lid on the bin, and drops the slug inside, placing the top back.
Straightening his tie, he already knows his next destination.
Hopper is a strange man that somehow toes the line between sentimental and the kind to push everything out of his mind. That was the original purpose of the cabin, long before he and the girl had cleaned out parts of it to live inside.
It was a place to store away the memories he'd like to forget, but not get rid of completely. Boxes labeled from 'Sarah' to 'Vietnam' filled the place before.
But, even during the investigation into Will's disappearing act, Hopper had never really gathered materials on the lab. What he did find was swiftly burned away by the lab's teams when they'd drugged and bugged his old trailer. And for the longest time after that, the entirety of those who'd been involved in the snafu had been under surveillance for quite a while. Any digging into Hawkins Lab, Terry Ives, whatever, would set off a colossal number of red flags.
That wouldn't do. Not at all.
Eleven would need those files to get her started on the right journey. No files to find Terry, Terry couldn't show her Kali, Kali couldn't show her how to use her anger to make her powers stronger.
That was where He came in.
Procuring the files, the photos, all of it was ludicrously easy. All He had to do was walk in, and the humans' minds filled in the blanks for them, figuring He was someone from their government sent to check in. Not the truth, obviously, but the humans could remain ignorant. It wouldn't hurt them, after all.
Closing the lid on the box, He places it down on the stack in the basement, the inhabitants of the cabin above totally unaware of His entry.
There is one last stop to make.
He walked calmly up to the Byers household, flicking his hand. The door opened by itself, and He walked in, taking in the destroyed place around Him. The fight had done a number on the place.
There, on the floor, lay Billy Hargrove, unconscious.
He turned his head, and in a moment, they were in Billy's room, the young man laying on the bed, inert.
Max wouldn't be back for some time, He expected. But it was better this than Billy getting caught up in the mess at the house. Neil was out, yes, but it would be better for him to assume that Billy and Max had returned after he'd left, not that Billy was knocked out, Max stealing his car.
He reached into his suit, pulling out a small business card. A little thing, for the local pool.
Anyone would assume He was doing Billy a favor. Quite the opposite.
The pieces were back into place now, but they'd have to be ready for the next round. They'd need someone to get Flayed. Someone close enough to the group to tip them off that something was wrong, but someone expendable.
He threw the card down and turned.
About twenty people would be infected because of Billy. Twenty people dead in a war they had no concept of the greater fallout of.
Twenty people that were acceptable losses.
He straightened his tie and vanished.