“I’m assuming you already know what this facility does?” Wakefield asked Paladin. He guided the knight over to the back of the room, opening up the door to a stairwell with a dead body on it. Wakefield groaned, lifted it up and chucked it aside.

  “We know surprisingly little,” Paladin admitted. “The stuff you do here is just so…complicated. We can’t wrap our heads around it.”

  He turned around to see Arthur tiptoeing around the bronze patches and corrupted bodies on the floor. He signaled for Wakefield to wait, which he did not.

  “That’s a surprise considering men of your rrrrrrrepertoire,” Wakefield shouted as he ascended the stairs. “Did you do no external reading?!?!”

  “It’s really hard to!” Arthur shouted as he finally caught up with Paladin, allowing them to ascend the stairs a full floor below Wakefield. “Everything is just…super classified. Like, President of the Federation classified.”

  Paladin looked at Arthur, who just shrugged.

  “Well, that’s the trouble for working for Federation projects,” Wakefield said. “Far too much red tape! Ah, here we are. This way please!”

  Wakefield walked through a door to the third floor, and Paladin and Arthur sprinted to catch up with him. They walked out to see the dragon staring directly at them with its single remaining eye. Arthur tried not to gag on the smell as they followed Wakefield around the balcony and into a dark side room. It was a small theatre, with only a dozen seats. Wakefield gestured for the two to sit down. Arthur noticed a diary entry on his seat, picked it up and pocketed it, knowing it was probably best to avoid reading it in front of the scientist. Wakefield ran to the back of the room and switched on the projector.

  A loud trumpet blared from the speakers as the black and white crest of Nemesis Genetics appeared on screen. Then, it cut to a lanky man with a moustache and a bald head sitting behind a desk, examining papers. He looked at the screen and began to speak.

  “Ah, excellent! You’ve finally arrived, and you’ve signed your nondisclosure agreements I see! My name is Professor Franklin McCray, and I run the Delta Complex of Nemesis Genetics. Here, we are researching the centre of all the universe, the binding element behind everything: magic. Now, now, I hear you men and women of science snickering at me, but I assure you: magic is as deep, as rich, as real a science as physics, or chemistry, or biology.”

  Through a star wipe effect, the footage cut to a sight that Arthur had often seen, but Paladin hadn’t. It was a floating tower, entirely metal, its exterior twisted into a variety of fine sculptures depicting heroes and dragons. A massive clockface was positioned near the top, with hands beyond counting beneath the minute and hour hands. This was the Clocktower. Their final destination.

  “I’m sure by now you’ve all heard of the Clocktower,” McCray continued to explain. “It’s very important to us in the Federation! A monument from beyond time and space, that cannot be entered by mortal beings such as us. It is a prominent centre of religion, and religious leaders have said that to enter it would be to desecrate the Worldwyrm.”

  Paladin was startled by hearing the name, but Arthur didn’t react at all. The film cut to a group of important figures discussing things around a round table. Some were dressed in ornate, ceremonial armour, while others were wearing simple suits.

  “But, recently, everything changed. The Grand Priest of the Wyrm, Sire Galivus, and our esteemed President, Donovan Caius, formed an accord for researchers to enter the Clocktower in the name of science. The hope: to improve the galaxy for all, drawing from this otherworldly technology for ourselves, in a way that would not break the Wyrm’s teachings. That, ladies and gentlemen, is where we come in!”

  The scene changed to a barren battlefield, showcasing heavily armoured soldiers running forward, quadrupedal mechs in the background, all firing lasers into nothingness.

  “Nemesis Genetics was founded to improve the physical capabilities of soldiers fighting the Eastern Arm Separatists in the Eastern Civil War. Since then, it has moved into medicine, devoted to improving genetic diseases, even if never ceased our desire to improve the fighting capabilities of the Federation! But, there is a flaw.”

  The scene changed again to a full hospital ward, badly damaged.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “Humanity, as grand as it and its creations are, can only do so much. Technology is limited by physical creations, our medical and genetic enhancement methods limited by the nature of the human body. But what if those limits were removed? What if there was something beyond our science? I think you can see where I’m going with this, dear viewer.”

  Another transition brought the film to the floor of the facility, which was vastly different. The whole place looked pristine, and scientists walked around, some with purpose, some chatting casually. There was no bronze, and no dragon hanging overhead. McCray walked in from offscreen and kept talking.

  “And that is why we are here. Nemesis Genetics Delta Facility is designed to take the technology of the Clocktower and use it to enhance our fighting forces, to protect our boys and girls as they take to the stars and reclaim Federation territory from the arms of the traitors and terrorists. It is designed to find cures to diseases that simple vaccines could never hope to solve. It is designed to create a new form of humanity. The Wyrm would be proud to know that we could save so many lives with His creations. There is a great deal to learn about the Clocktower, and it is a great honour to be at the forefront of science, and of magic.”

  The same trumpet played and the film cut back to the Nemesis Genetics crest, before it spluttered and died. Paladin turned to Arthur. “Tell me everything you know about the Worldwyrm.”

  Arthur looked surprised. “They’re the main religion of the Federation. He’s said to be a giant dragon made out of stars, and the Clocktower is his home. That’s why no one could ever go in, because we didn’t want to anger the dragon, until these dumba-”

  “GGGGGentlemen!” Wakefield roared. “We must move on! You need to go to your workstations!”

  “One moment, Doctor Wakefield!” Paladin shouted, before turning back to Arthur. “Does the name Dominion mean anything in this religion?”

  Arthur shook his head. “I mean, I’m not scholar, but it means nothing to me. Why are you saying this?”

  “Because I heard him. He’s in the magic. He’s the reason I can’t fight at full strength.”

  Wakefield leaned over their chairs, interrupting their conversation. “Gentlemen, we must move on!”

  Paladin stood up and drew his sword, holding it at Wakefield’s neck. “Wait outside.”

  Wakefield glared at Paladin, snarling. “No. You will work.”

  “Let’s do as he says, Paladin,” Arthur said, standing up. He began to walk away from Wakefield and started to read the diary entry. The hand was the same, but the ink was different.

  Date: October 6th

  Days since departure: 221

  Interactions: Assholes

  Expenditures: I wish there were!

  I tried to get out of town as fast as I could, but while the villagers weren’t looking, those two mysterious people kidnapped me! They stuck me in a big white room and started asking weird questions about my journey. They wanted to know why I wanted to go to the Clocktower. I kept telling them I was just curious and it was something I’ve always wanted to do, but they never seemed convinced. They took all my things and left me in the cell. I had to plead with them for the diary and a pen.

  I hate it here! It’s always bright, so I can’t sleep. There’s nothing to do. The food sucks! Worst of all, I have no idea why this happened. I’ve got no idea what I did wrong, or what they want me for. Everyone here acts nice, but I can tell they’re all faking it. They’re doing weird sciency stuff with this metal I don’t recognise, stuff that kinda looks like it came from the Clocktower. I hear screams as well. Not human, but animal, and they’re not from any animal I know. I don’t know if the villagers know what happened to me. They never mentioned this place, but maybe they’ll rescue me.

  I want to go home.

  Arthur turned around to see Wakefield glaring at him. The scientist raised his metal hand.

  “Give. That. To. Me.” He growled.

  “Who wrote this?” Arthur asked.

  “That putrid girl, that’s who! The one McCray thought was necessary to the mission. The one who complained and cried like a little girl when we kidnapped her even though she’s just as old as I am. She kept crying even when I enhanced her! Can you imagine that?! So many soldiers in the Federation crave to be like her, and she rejected it. We just asked one thing of her, just to find God, and she refused. The feeble little-”

  Arthur spun his rifle off his back and fired it straight through Wakefield’s skull. The man stumbled back and chuckled.

  “You know, I’ve been hit there before. Doesn’t hurt as much as you think. The death is quick.”

  Wakefield’s metallic parts let out a groan and his one good eye rolled into the back of his head. He fell forward, his head slamming against the chair as he died for good.

  “I don’t condone that, Squire,” Paladin said. “He could have been a useful source of information…but I do understand.”

  Arthur breathed heavily, then slung the rifle over his back again. “I hate this place.”

  “Agreed, but it’s clearly important. This may be our path to the Clocktower. We have more to do here, Squire. I am sorry.”

  Song of Sable and the mecha (which is probably the closest of the two to this). Thanks for reading this far, and look forward to more Clockwork Sky. :)