Feeling a lot of Tyranids around the area she was looking for, sensing the few minutes when the Black Templar existed nearby, Mable would hesitate as she couldn't let go of the high-whir of reality. Trying several times to release, yet being unable to, Mable found herself awkwardly staring at the pale-white light in the infinite darkness, attempting to find the minute where she too wasn't in the room. Thinking for a long moment, the woman on her back seemingly frozen as she tried to sense her own presence to find when it had gone away, Mable would realize that she truly wasn't showing up in her newfound sense of reality at all.
Not wanting to overshoot the moment, Mable would try to go a little bit further… and then realize this was going to be harder than she thought as it went from Black Templars standing stationary in the room, and then, forever, nothing.
It had taken what felt like the better part of a year searching, finding the sliver of existence between when she had left the room, and the infinite darkness of the future that hadn't happened yet. Feeling a release then, Mable let out a gasping breath as a sense of feeling returned to her, and as she collapsed to her knees with the coughing, crying, wailing inquisitor on her back. Mable, also feeling exhausted, huffed with terrible exertion as she heard bolter-shot ring out, heading to where the space marines had left her. Twisting her neck as the door was flung open, Mable looked to Sindarion who strode into the room and began to force a rebreather on the woman who tried to fight off the unseen attacker that was trying to help her breathe.
"How long was I gone?!" Mable cried out, the time she had felt separated from these people feeling like a mini-eternity.
"One-hundred and thirty-two seconds." Sindarion told her without even using his vox, clearly having come to the conclusion that he could be heard.
"Okay… next time, I need a clock that keeps track of the smallest decimal digit of time." Mable demanded, feeling as though she had aged a literal year as she sweated over the smallest of margins trying to return. "I felt like I was going to lose my damned mind."
"Was going backwards harder or easier?" Mable was asked by Ulvos as he stepped into the room, to who she wordlessly nodded to, not giving a real answer. Seeming to understand now was not the time to sate his curiosity, the Angel of Death would turn to the woman now working up to her feet. "Tell me about it when we're airborne. Inquisitor Redmane?"
"Yes?" The muffled voice of the inquisitor stated, coughing through her rebreather as she looked around the room illuminated by the pale light she was radiating. "Oh. That can't have been healthy."
"Probably not." Mable agreed, helping the woman up with Sindarion – more to get support to stand herself, rather than because she wanted to help the one who had leaned on her back for a moment that was both eternal and apparently only two minutes long. Looking to Ulvos's helm, which continued to stare at her as his brothers fought outside of the room against the Tyranid swarm, Mable made her demand known to the Sword Brother. "Before I give answers, she needs to give us some."
"Yeah, yeah. Let's go. I don't want to be the world's first mundane time traveler only to get eaten by a bug. This infestation looks pretty bad. Is the world being consumed?" Redmane muttered, before questioning to understand her new temporal positioning better.
"Actively." Sindarion bleated from his vox-caster, and as the inquisitor began to get carried from the room, Mable trotted behind Ulvos as he exited the room, firing down the hallway with his bolter the moment he stepped foot outside.
Retreating quickly, she and the warriors in shredded power-armor reached their balcony extraction point in half the time they had taken to get to the room where she had her made her temporal leap. Having only been in the abandoned spire for less than five minutes, each of the Astartes showing damage – save for Ulvos and Sindarion, who were clearly the most experienced against these Tyranids – Mable felt a wave of relief wash over her as the metal flying deathtrap of a Thunderhawk crashed its front-facing ramp into the balcony, allowing them to get on. Hurried as they all clambered in, the guns on the ship spooling up and then deafening the world around them as its larger munitions tore into the building to provide them cover, Mable would be suddenly grabbed onto by Sindarion as the Thunderhawk suddenly shook, pulling away the moment they were all on the ramp, rather than inside the ship proper.
Feeling thankful for the centuries' old warrior as she was forced into a chair and hooked into a seat, Mable glanced at the inquisitor who was awkwardly balancing with the help of Ulvos… but still standing, despite the ship's sudden movements. Unsure how the inquisitor was keeping balance as the Thunderhawk's engine roared and their momentum nearly knocked Mable into the next seat despite the safety belts. Watching in confused interest at the inquisitor whispered something into the Astarte's helmet, Mable leaned backwards as the Thunderhawk evened out, and planted her head on the back cushion behind as they escaped from the immediate danger.
Not reacting as the inquisitor eventually joined her, Mable eventually turned to the woman who, on her own, expertly took a seat and only roped the harness around her arms, rather than properly buckle in.
"So. Priam, huh?"
"Yeah." Mable stated… the woman's eyes hardening for a moment, and then looking away as she readjusted the hair under her hat – that had somehow managed to stay on her head during their escape. "Is there like, a magnet in there?"
"What?"
"The hat. How did that thing stay on your head?"
"It's an inquisition secret. I'd have to kill you if you ever found out." The woman stated seriously, before laughing suddenly through her rebreather. Returning to their original topic of how their paths had crossed, the inquisitor perhaps mistakenly believing the researcher Mable had met in passing played more of a role in this meeting, Redmane would continue her line of questioning. "So, how'd you meet him?"
"I found his body under the orphanage I lived in."
"Orphanage?"
"The temple of… something martyr. They weren't big on teaching."
"Oh shit, I heard about that. Ordo Hereticus stormed the place, looking for me there for some reason. There must had been some kind of secret passage you took then, right?" The woman questioned her, shooting a gaze towards the space marines that clearly didn't know what she was talking about… and then deciding it didn't matter anymore. "What was that? Two, three months ago?"
"Uh, like, five-hundred years, but yeah." Mable stated… and as the woman nodded… she would snap a gaze to her suddenly.
"Priam was down there for five-hundred years? They just left his body?"
"A lot of bodies, apparently. I don't know if they locked themselves out, or couldn't remember where the entrance was… but I guess I never saw the main entrance. I entered through the engine room, chased by a Tyranid Ripper."
"How'd you get in? There should have been a guard, or at least a servitor there." The woman asked her, and as she shrugged, Mable stated the truth.
"I asked nicely."
"Ha… but seriously, how? A civilian would have been denied access."
"I asked Priam to." Mable explained… and as the woman stared at her, she began to feel confusion at the woman's words.
"So, you entered the building, found the artefact, traveled to the time when Priam was alive, and then… asked him to let you in five-hundred years from after he died?"
"I just asked him to leave the door unlocked."
"Wow. You must have made a convincing argument."
"I told him I was from the future."
"What?! That was it?!" The woman asked, and as Mable stared at the woman she had convinced with the exact same statement, Redmane would curse the dead man. "That fucking idiot. Just listens to the first thing a girl told him… as if it wasn't a daemon, or a spy. He seriously just left the door unlocked?"
"Yeah, pretty much. It locked when the ripper showed up, though, so… you know, it wasn't entirely undefended, I guess?"
"Alright, well… good job not creating a time paradox… what's your name?"
"Mable."
"Well, Mable… you look to be in a lot of trouble right now, especially if you're friends with the Emperor's biggest Astarte zealots. You probably don't know this, but these guys are one of the favorites of the Inquisition, as all it takes is one or two buzzwords to trigger them into action. They're great, truly!" The inquisitor stated, and then looked to their ten friends doing emergency repairs on their armor. "The fact that they're helping you, or letting you help them means things are truly and utterly fucked. That, or something seriously changed their views on their operating procedures."
"Abaddon's Thirteenth Black Crusade was ultimately successful. The Eye of Terror is now a rift in real-space that spans the galaxy, and has split the Imperium in two. Roboute Guilliman is back, and is allying with any faction, xeno included, that is willing to fight against the forces of Chaos, while the Tyranids have us essentially encircled, absorbing every planet they can find while we desperately try to hold them back. It's baseless rumors right now, but I think I heard whisperings that the Lion has returned too." Ulvos stated over the vox… and as the face of the inquisitor continued to shift and alter into forms of confusion, Mable saw a moment of calm arrive to the inquisitor's brow.
"Well…" The inquisitor started, and then let out a scoffing laugh over the engine of the Thunderhawk. "Just a matter of time until Dorn shows up then, huh?"
"We'll see." The Black Templar stated to the woman… and then shifted his red lensed gaze to her. "Speaking of time, Mable, what was it like?"
"Uh… it's hard to explain." Mable truthfully muttered out, her words perhaps not being heard over the noise of the Thunderhawk's engines.
"She had to pray to the Orb-peror!" Redmane declared, and as the heresy was laughed at by the inquisitor, but taken very seriously by the other nine Astartes that shifted their gaze to her, Mable quickly clarified as she shouted over the engine so that the others could hear her as well.
"I prayed to help me concentrate! I misspoke!"
"I know what I heard! I also know what I left down in that research facility!" Redmane instantly declared, undoing whatever credibility Mable could have theoretically given to the Angels of Death.
"Good to know." Ulvos immediately followed the inquisitor's statement, and then gained the most dreadful look from Redmane yet. "Then you know what else you hid away on Hisperia. Now's the time when we're getting everything you stole back."
"Do you even know what I hid? And from who?" The woman asked… and as the Sword Brother refused to continue, the woman would let out a haggish laughter. "You don't, do you?"
"I've got an idea."
"Well, you know that everything should stay hidden, unless you plan to kill us all!"
"Not us…" The Angel of Death stated… and as he glanced out of the opened door that showed the millions of pinkish Tyranid forms… including the giants that were busy tearing down the lower spires to create ramps towards the higher middle-sections. Mable, swallowing hard as she realized they really were all going to die if they didn't do something drastic, would mutter the unspoken thoughts of the Astartes.
"Them." Mable whispered… and as the inquisitor turned to her, she would see Redmane scowl.
And then nod in agreement.
"You had impeccable timing, Mable." Redmane stated after she had rested for four hours, and been given a 'proper' outfit made of what appeared to be heavy leather. Having been awoken and brought to the same room as the woman, Mable stared at the holographic table that showed, likely, the entire hive-city, with several red dots scattered throughout, and under, the spires. "As I was just saying to our friends, the Ordo Malleus interrogator was about to break my mind cage, even if it meant lobotomizing me."
Moving beside Ulvos and Castellan Malcevisor, Mable gave quick nods of greeting… and then was immediately turned away from as Sindarion shut the door behind her. Speaking quickly, Redmane would question her with a tired immediacy.
"Could you do it again?"
"Uh… probably."
"How far back can you go?"
"I… don't know… but going backwards was much easier than coming back to here. I don't know what it felt like for you, but… it felt like I was… in between time for a year, trying to get us back into that room."
"What do you mean?" The woman asked, and… as she hesitated, Mable repeated her feeling she had gotten when Mister Orb had done the transitioning.
"I… I don't think I can go to a point I've already seen. Like, I couldn't go back five minutes from now and be here… it's like, there's a block, or a wall… but also, there's a wall in time where I haven't been yet, either. It was like I was trying to find the exact time of when I visibly teleported in front of your eyes."
"But you didn't return exactly when you left." Ulvos stated… and as she nodded, Mable would air her confusion as well.
"I know. It had taken me over two minutes from when I left to when I returned."
"That's about as long as it took for us to leave, right?" Redmane asked, and as Mable nodded, the woman would be questioned by the castellan.
"It only took you two minutes to find trust in this abomination?"
"Hey man." The inquisitor stated, pointing a finger up towards the towering Angel of Death. "When you seal a time-god away to be researched, and five months later a twelve-year-old Necron-girl hybrid shows up and says she's from the future right as your brain is about to be cut in half by a circular saw, you don't fucking ask pointless questions! See, one of us traveled through time – and it sure as fuck wasn't some giant sheep clad in ceramite!"
"I…" The castellan quietly aired, then trailed off into silence, unintentionally showing that the inquisitor was… perhaps a bit mentally unstable after the ordeal she had been through in her own time.
"Now, Mandy-" Redmane continued, which Mable quickly interrupted.
"Mable."
"Whatever." The woman easily moved on from the correction, focusing the conversation. "Can you do your rewind again?"
"Probably." Mable hummed.
"That's good, because some of this shit is buried forever, or was vented into space a month after I went missing. Additionally, I'm not going with you, as I'm going to go get the stuff that was sealed with biometric scanners and should still be hidden here. I also don't know the limits of the artefact's powers and it seems like you're producing a mild, currently non-cancerous radiation, but, uh… let's just say that Necron technology isn't exactly designed for fleshy-bodies to utilize."
"Okay…" Mable… agreed to, wanting to be a help regardless if anyone came with her or not.
"Cool. So, me and Ullanor-"
"Ulvos." The sword brother corrected, Redmane not even losing pace in her instructions.
"Are going to get the stuff that isn't buried or vented into the void. I've compiled a list of locations for you to go, as well as how to get into them. There are three locations in total, but the furthest one is, uh… how should I say this…"
"What? Where is it?"
"On the fucking moon." The woman easily decided for herself… and as Mable… would just nod in confusion, she would look to the Black Templars who'd…
"Oh, there's like, a massive fleet of Tyranids in space, isn't there?" Mable remembered, getting immediate confirmation.
"We're saving that for last for a reason. Hell, we might not even need it, but… well, let's just say I have reason to believe it could help us greatly. That one isn't time-sensitive either, since I'm pretty sure it's been there for at least a couple thousand years already."
Just nodding at the woman's words, Mable felt slightly alarmed as the stakes of their mission was given to her.
"And, if you fuck up, then it's not just Hisperia, but the entire time-space continuity we'd have to worry about. So! If any of us suddenly pops out of existence, we all know who to blame, huh?" The woman horrifyingly joked, and then clapped her hands. "Alright, now that I've unsettled the thirteen-year-old who has our fate in her tiny, metal hands, let's get onto the list!"
Out of the ten artefacts, nine of them were spoken of – with the moon one being held a secret against everyone in the room for now. The first six being the easiest to get, as they didn't involve time travel but did not account for any Tyranid overreach, Mable would be informed of the following items that Redmane and Ulvos would be grabbing:
One: A glaive that had a 'Daemon of War' infested within it, which quickly drove the wielder and those nearby into a frenzied state of madness.
Two: A plasma gun that had been used against the Emperor himself, which had seemingly gained a will after hitting him to no effect – but could in theory interrupt some psychic abilities if it didn't obliterate what it hit.
Three: A Necron Spear that had apparently been used to wound an Eldar god. Mable, asking briefly what an 'Eldar' was, would get ignored as they moved onto…
Four: An Ork 'Waaaaaagh-Caller,' which was just a combination of words that didn't make any sense and wasn't explained at all.
Five: A xeno gun-ship that was buried underneath the a Adeptus Mechanicus manufactory – which was still being actively guarded by said Adeptus Mechanicus, completely unaware what was beneath their base of operation on the other side of the continent.
Six: A Mass Accelerator.
Stopping then to explain that the Mass Accelerator could be used to perhaps snipe the Hivemind flagship in space if they could somehow buy enough time to get it active, Inquisitor Redmane would explain that likely wouldn't be feasible without completely abandoning the city and getting the Mechanicus on board. Planning instead to use the Mass Accelerator as a distraction so they could get the xeno gun-ship out of the hidden vault under their factory, Redmane would go into depth on the last three – technically four – artefacts.
"Okay, so, number seven is going to be the easiest, so we're going to have you do that one first – also because you'll have the least amount of time to get it."
"Alright." Mable nodded, a schematic being shown before her as… what appeared to be some kind of octahedron appeared on the holo-cast the woman had provided those in the briefing.
"This is codename: Maelstrom. It's a throwable grenade proto-type made by the Inquisition that briefly creates a vortex from our reality to the Warp itself."
"What?!" The castellan asked in alarm, not having been nearly as emotive with the other devices until this moment. "You have a proto-type what?"
"Well, if Mable doesn't get to it, it's just a piece of metal that was crushed by a brick with a string tied above it."
"You said this is the most time sensitive?" Ulvos asked, getting a nod from the woman.
"Yeah, it's on a twenty-four-hour clock that, if isn't reset every day, activates a pair of scissors that cuts the string, releasing the brick and destroying the proto-type." The woman stated… and as everyone in the room looked at her, this form of protection sounding incredibly lax for what was essentially a super-grenade. "Hey, it's a big, holy brick. The brick was said to have banished Kharn the Betrayer back into the warp, so, like, get off my back, okay? Besides, I wasn't the one who came up with the countermeasure."
"How long do we have?"
"Six hours from the moment we teleported, by my count. Give or take an hour." The woman stated, moving on quickly. "That will be your first grab. Obviously, don't use it, or listen to any voices that might ooze out of it – but it's already in a protective case that-"
"A brick can break. Got it." Mable hurried the woman, more interested in the next object that was on her list.
"Cool, the next is a Shard of Khaine, a fragment of the Eldar god that can generate an avatar if we stab it into an Exarch. We obviously don't have one of those guys lying around, but I know for a fact that the Ordo Xenos has some Eldar prisoners on world… or at least, should, so long as they didn't forget to feed them. They usually only do experiments on them, so we'll find out if it -has- to be an Exarch, or if any Eldar could do. If it works, we'll let the avatar rampage against the Tyranids, as it'll take a Carnifex Prime to take it down." Redmane stated, her words moving Ulvos to hide his face with a gauntleted hand at the thought. "What? More complaints, buddy?"
"Nope." The Sword Brother stated instantly, clearly having his doubts about the creature known as an 'Avatar.'
"Good. Alright, that one is actually going to be somewhat hard to get to, but has been sealed prior to all the others on the planet to my memory. So, in theory, if you go back, super-super-super far in time, you should be able to grab that one at your leisure. Here's the planetary coordinates – and remember, don't leave anything you don't want to be found there."
"Cool." Mable stated as she looked at the first hand-held data-pad that was given to her. "What about the Maelstrom Grenade?"
"Oh, right, uh… well, fun thing about that one, it's actually in a nearby spire, which should be quite easy to get to… so I'll just show you that personally."
"You left the warp-portal creating device in an apartment, didn't you?" Castellan Malcevisor asked, getting a click of the tongue in response before being ignored.
"Third, and the last thing we need to grab before meeting back up with us for the moon-adventure, is a, uh… well, some Dark Age of Technology shit. No one here is a Fallen Dark Angel, right? If I ask, you have to tell me. That's the rules."
"No." The Black Templars stated in unison.
"Alright, well… I'm trusting you, and if it turns out you are, I'm going to be pretty disappointed."
"Time's ticking." Ulvos reminded the woman.
"Alright, point taken. So, Dark Age of Technology canister was vented into space via an atmospheric catapult… or will be, I guess. It's guarded by a couple of reprogrammed Skitarii Gladiators, but by using the passcode: 'Dubious Mile, My Twisted Vial,' they'll deactivate."
"What… kind of reference is that even to?" The Castellan asked, his presence still being a nonfactor in the woman's senses.
"Anyways, inside the canister is a self-replicating nanomachine swarm that was used to… well, kind of what the Tyranids do to planets. It destroys biological matter on a cellular level, turns it into a goopy gas, which then explodes when it reaches a planet's stratosphere, igniting the entire planet in a baptism of scientific hellfire. That goes off… in six months from when I'm captured, so if you have to, take your time with that."
"I… really can't take my time." Mable stated, gesturing to those who were around her. "Honestly, I'm pretty sure time will continue to move forward here at a normal rate while I'm gone, so… like, I'm going to have to move pretty quickly, regardless of how far I go back."
"Alright, well forgive me if I don't know exactly how your time traveling bullshit works, girl. Damn, I've only just got here." The woman told her, letting out a sigh as Mable frowned at the chastisement. "You're going to want transportation then, for sure. You think we can give her, like… a hover-car? Or bike?"
"We can give her a gun." The castellan stated… and as the inquisitor thought for a moment, she would eventually nod to that.
"Yeah, that'll probably work. Mable, you ever take a hover car hostage?"
"Uh… can't say I have, ma'am."
"Ew, don't call me ma'am. That's what people call my mother." Redmane dismissed, shaking her head in disappointment. "Well, give her a cool gun that's super noticeable and expensive, and then, Mable, go make some friends with it. Get them to take you places… and we'll try to leave something there for you if you don't want to bring them back to this shitty time period with you."
"Can… we do that?" Mable asked, unsure if the defenses of the city would be able to survive, or if she'd be able to be picked up outside the hive, especially if the Eldar one was far away. Feeling awkward as she held the datapads that had been handed to her, Mable aired her hesitation to the room. "Like, I don't even know how to work these… things, yet."
"Yeah, it's fine. I'll show you how when I take you to my…" The woman started, and then glanced to the castellan. "Secret lair and laboratory, and totally-not-my-apartment where a brick is hanging by a string."
"I hate you." The Angel of Death informed the inquisitor.
"Ha! Joke's on you, pal! You're not a good inquisitor unless you piss off every Astartes you meet in thirty-seconds or less! And you have to hate yourself more than people can hate you! Get fucked, loser, because I'm great at both of those!" The woman tearfully yelled, and then let out a primal scream of rage, which suddenly shifted back into a very pleasant demeanor. "Let's get moving. Time's ticking, invasion has to be stopped, chop-chop!"
Grabbed by her wrist, being chased out of the room by Ulvos so that he could yell at Sindarion to pursue them, Mable would be pulled along by Redmane and then chased by a Black Templar – the inquisitor seeming to react poorly to the pursuit as she continued to sprint through the hallways of the governor's mansion.
The apartment had been in the upper strata of their hive, and as Mable was taken into the structure filled with nobility waiting for their world to come to an end, she would be startled by the wealth that was openly displayed. Remembering thinking that having six cans of food and three ration packs was true wealth, Mable looked at a feast between nearly two dozen people, jewelry worn on necks, hair being actively attended to by servants, a flying baby carcass that was broadcasting music which floated on prop wings attached to an anti-gravity generator, Mable would openly vomit as she was struck by the scent of rotting food, which the inquisitor barging into the apartment would laugh at openly.
"Ha! Inquisition business, everyone vacate the premises or be eviscerated by the Adeptus Astartes!" Redmane demanded, and then turned to the escorting Angel of Death that was placing a hand on her back. "Brother Sindarion, prepare your bolter!"
"No." The warrior stated as the crying nobility got up and slowly staggered away and out of the room. Instead helping Mable up and to the chair, Sindarion questioned her quietly without his vox-caster active. "Mable, are you ill?"
"Uh… just… the scent of… everything. It smells awful." Mable stated… and as the Inquisitor looked at the mess of food, her eyes would dart towards the escaping nobility that had been lounging in this… lair.
"Maybe we'll give the Ordo Xenos something to do while the Ordo Hereticus are sitting on their asses. Either way, not our problem right now!" Redmane shouted, clapping her hands and pointing to the two of them. "So, table was like, right there. Grenade was there, in glass, and a brick was dangling above it. Jump there, grab it, come back, and we'll move onto the Eldar Shard or the Nanomachines. Sound good?"
"R-right." Mable nodded… and as she looked at the table that was still making her nauseous, she would ask a favor. "Can we… remove this?"
"Fuck girl, it's just some Nurgle-bullshit! Wear a goddamned mask and let's get going!" She was told… and as Sindarion handed her a rebreather, Mable… would nod to herself as she put on the mask… and looked at the space marine.
"Do you have the clock?"
"Only to the third decimal." The Angel informed her… and as she nodded, she would stare at the wrist-mounted timer that… had a baby-skull servitor in it. Wondering if everything needed to have flesh-bound by metal for even the simplicist of automated tasks, Mable would close her eyes as the watch was strapped to her arm.
"Alright… just… wait here, I guess." Mable asked of those who began to flee the room and give her space… but as she took a breath through her rebreather, still able to smell the stench of… disease, she began to feel doubt in herself.
Hearing the low-hum was much easier this time around… if one did not count the buzzing of flies distracting her. Much like after the first jolt she had experienced when transitioning time, Mable now felt more confident as she summoned the fabric of slow-moving energy into her hand, and around her body. Pulling it back, seeing nothing, and then people, and then more people, and more people, and even more people… Mable would have to work for the better part of an hour until she found the room entirely empty. Trying to feel out the room prior to leaving, Mable would slowly move around the chamber… until, at last, she felt something on a table that did not currently exist.
Feeling a storm, contained within a fragile piece of metal, Mable would open her eyes, and… surrounded in a room of black and white lines, see what was the first multi-colored oddity in this perfect realm of void and light.
Feeling as though she was being watched by it, Mable would release the fabric in her palm, and feel a gust of air surround her as she displaced still oxygen. In the dark, but illuminating the room with her presence, Mable glanced down to her watch, paused the timer… and then realized she needed another clock to find out how much time had passed.
Which naturally came as an alarm went off, and, blinking at the second-skull-mounted time-piece she had seen in a day, watched as a green light turned red – and a pair of scissors began to bite up and down on a piece of string.
Following the string to a rockcrete brick that had been prophesized, dangling above a glass cage, Mable would dive for the device, moving it out of the way as the block crashed through the glass table-top the grenade had rested on. Letting out a breath of relief as she landed painfully on the ground, and then looking at the metal octahedron surrounded by a shell of delicate looking metal that jangled loosely in the glass box that had contained it… Mable held the object to her chest to calm her nerves…
Until she heard a door crack open.
"M-mom?" Mable heard… and as she blinked, looking at a boy around four or five years old enter the dark room she was illuminating, Mable would sit up, and blink at the child that called out to the room. "Mom, is that you?"
"Uh…" Mable started… and then shifted to the side of the table, and into view. "Hi. Are you… the son of Inquisitor Redmane?"
She was stared at for a time… and then fled from by the boy who slammed the door shut, who quietly ran away. Blinking at the strange interaction, Mable… would slowly stand up, lock the door, and then return to the clock that she could utilize.
Counting that she had only been gone for less than a minute and a half from after the alarm went off, Mable would pause the timer that had reset, and then search for the high-pitched whir of reality. Able to quickly find it, even easier than the low-hum of the universe now that rotting food wasn't surrounding her. Holding the glass-case under her arm, Mable would begin to search for her way back to Redmane and Sindarion… before realizing that she was going to be frozen in time for a while as she saw just how many nobility had infested that room in the five-hundred years between the now she was visiting, and the now she had originated from.