Chapter V

September 29, 1467 CT

That declaration brought about panic within the townsfolk of Sormest. Many ran...while others were in fearful awe as they stand in the presence of a colossal Chrono Gear. The abomination looked down on them all with it's discombobulated figure. It was made up of metal, loosely and crudely fashioned to form a body. Gears hiding behind the fame was a reminder of a the inner mechanical functions of a clock. The man who summoned the colossal mechanical amalgamation, with blood trickling down his fingers, raised his hand in the air. Those who stood around, from civilians to combatants, stood their ground out of fear. They had only hoped that this was nothing mother than an act to get his message across; an attempt to give the Chronological Puppets the leverage they needed in order to raise the interests of the masses for this accursed following. Alas, they were wrong. Raising his decrepit, bloodied hand, as if offering it to God, the man kept his gaze towards the petrified crowd. They saw his mouth move, and yet no words came out. The Chrono Gear roared a piercing, as if attempting at screaming into the heavens with its head raised high. Their focus was on this monstrosity.

And then...it attacked.

The Chrono Gear stomped on five Timetable Knights, instantly killing them in the process. The remaining civilians that stood had fled in a panic. They now realize that they're in the presence of a follower of the Chronological Puppets. This wasn't a show. This was real. Surely, people were going to die. The Timetable Knights, with their swords and halberds, charged at the chronological abomination. The O'Clock Soldiers kept their distance, using their rifles to gun down the conjurer. Alas, there was no progress. Once the bullets came close, they had slowed down...and were reduced to dust. It was if this...power that he used was also protecting him. He started to walk forward in order to keep pace with his creation. In the meanwhile, the colossal affront to nature killed every knight and soldier that came its way. They had no chance.

"You should've...accepted the offer of the Chronological Puppets. Acceptance would've spared your life," says the man, while clenching the throat of an O'Clock Knight with his bloodied hand. "Then again, FEAR...it's...well...a hindrance. And yet, it's apart of life. Apart of 'human' life. We had always believed that fear was a weakness. My masters disagree. And with that, I agree with their disagreement. For you see, the difference between the two...is that a hindrance can be disposed of."

The soldier within the man's grasp, who had been fighting for his freedom, had started to age. His auburn hair turned gray, his skin shriveled up, and he started to wheeze. The O'Clock Soldier appeared as an old man. The man who called forth the titan then snapped the elder soldier's neck. He then released his grasp, allowing the corpse to fall flat on its back. Any civilian that remained nearby bared witness to such a horror. Milo Carter was among them. He felt fear...and an unexplained sense of hope. It was as if, in his heart, there was a shred of a chance to bring down this adversary. The titan had stopped moving.

"Do you see now!? TIME! An unfathomable power RIGHT IN THE PALM OF OUR HANDS! Can you not see? Yes...I caused deaths and destruction. Let it be known that this is a minimum of what I can do. Believe me. Follow the Chronological Puppets. Become a tool to the power of time. Allow yourself to be its slave."

"Such a thing won't happen!" Milo Carter and the assailant shifted their attention the voice that called out. The two, and whomever else that stood around, lay witness to three individuals brave enough to address the fiend. The two most recognizable figures were O'Clock Soldiers, one man and one woman: they both had blonde hair, green eyes and white skin. In their hands was a readied rifle. On their hips were a pistol and a short word; they both had one for each. The third figure was a woman: dark brown hair, pale white skin and silver eyes. She clearly wasn't a knight or a soldier. She appeared more like...a drifter. On her waist was a rapier and a temporal flintlock pistol. In her left hand...was a pocket watch.