The door opened, and the sound changed. Unlike the silence of the corridor before, it was a sound like something massive humming low and continuous. The Fixer Chamber—the heart of the Definite Orbit Plan—was far wider and more overwhelming than Clara had imagined. A cylindrical space nearly thirty meters in diameter. At its center stood a pillar of chronometric crystal reaching toward the ceiling. Its surface was covered with countless gears and clock hands moving silently. Light emanating from the pillar cast complex shadows across the entire wall. The air was different. With each breath drawn into her lungs, something saturated with chronometric essence clung to the back of her throat. "[serious]……You came," Jason whispered beside her. His voice was calm, but Clara saw his hand moving inside his coat pocket. He was gripping his monitoring device again. A person stood before the pillar. Black robes. Not tall—rather, appearing small. Not turning around. Simply standing there, watching the streaks of light running across the pillar's surface. It was only after some time that Clara realized it was an old man's back. "[cold]……Fifty-three years. The granddaughter of Magda." The Grandmaster's voice was gentle. An aged voice, without anger or urgency. That was what made her skin prickle all over. "[cold]Since the day you hid the pocket watch, I have waited. For the key of zero hour to return to its rightful place." The face that turned was in his seventies or eighties. Deep wrinkles. Quiet eyes. The face of someone who possessed only certainty. "[cold]The activation sequence has already begun. All that remains is to insert the key." The streaks of light from the pillar were spreading with each second. In Clara's coat pocket, the pocket watch began to grow warm. It was being pulled—like a magnet toward the pillar's device. Clara pressed the watch from outside her pocket. She didn't want to let go. She didn't want to hand it over. But the vibration of the watch in her clenched hand only grew stronger. Then the density of the air changed. Clara's body understood before her mind did that Grim Pendulum had appeared. Not at the edge of her vision, but directly ahead. Nearly human in form, but without outline. A black density, as if its very existence consumed time. It was far larger than in the third incident. More substantial. The shadow turned toward Jason. In the next moment, the floor beneath Jason's feet appeared to warp—a localized chronometric field distortion, a gravity pinning him down. Jason tried to operate his terminal, but the readings maxed out and the function stopped. "[scared]Jason!" "[serious]It's fine. I just can't move. Not yet." It wasn't fine. His face was pale. A door in the chamber wall opened. Two guards emerged, with Laelia between them. Both her arms were restrained behind her back. Laelia's expression was unmarked, expressionless—but when her eyes met Clara's, they clearly said "don't hand it over." Not in words, but in her gaze. "[cold]Hand over the key, and I will release her." There was no emotion in the Grandmaster's voice. It wasn't even a negotiation. It was like a machine presenting conditions. Clara was being torn apart from three directions simultaneously. The heat of the watch. The gravity of Grim Pendulum. Laelia's eyes. If she handed it over, it would end. All of humanity's free will would be fixed to a single determined timeline. What her grandmother had sacrificed to hide would be used here and now. If she didn't hand it over—what would happen? "[serious]……Clara," Jason's voice came. Though he should have been pinned down, his face turned toward her. "[serious]Give me thirty seconds." She didn't understand. The moment she did, he was already moving. Jason stood up—despite being pinned, cradling his monitoring device in both hands. The discharge sound of the device rang out. From the failing circuits, all power was being wrung out. The chronometric field in the chamber warped locally, and Grim Pendulum's pinning effect came undone for just one moment—just one moment. Jason walked toward the Grandmaster. Reading data aloud, showing the terminal screen. Numbers, formulas, a string of figures revealing the flaws in the Definite Orbit Plan. Using the only weapon an analyst could wield, he closed the physical distance. The Grandmaster turned to face him. The guards moved in that direction. Laelia moved. The restraints came undone physically—for someone with chronometric antibodies, standard chronometric locks don't work. The guards' hands grasped at empty air. Laelia stepped back, positioning herself between the Grandmaster and Jason. The pressure on Clara dispersed. Seconds. Clara took her grandmother's letter from her inner coat pocket. She didn't read it. She already knew the contents by heart. But she needed the feel of the paper. Magda's handwriting floated before her eyes—*You must not break this watch. Reverse the flow.* Words Jason had left behind surfaced from another place. *If you're not in this world, there's nothing left for me to protect.* That wasn't logic. So she couldn't move by logic alone either. Clara took out the watch and placed her finger on the crown. She turned it in the reverse direction. Reverse activation. The sensation of the chronometric flow changing was unlike any previous activation. Instead of spreading, it was flowing backward. The entire chamber swayed in reverse light, and the streaks of light from the pillar began running in the opposite direction. Grim Pendulum retreated for the first time. The gravity was reversing. Suction into the second-interval realm was beginning. The shadow made a sound close to a voice—not words, but something that seemed to want to say something. As it lost its outline, it was torn from the chamber floor and pulled down into somewhere deep. The Grandmaster turned around. Laelia stood before him. She didn't move. Jason threw his body over the Grandmaster's control panel. He physically obstructed the completion of the final activation sequence. All three were moving at once—not by plan, but their trust in each other had taken physical form. The moment the reverse formula fully deployed, the central device of the Fixer Chamber was enveloped in a reverse chronometric field. The activation sequence was forcibly interrupted. The light from the pillar faded. Grim Pendulum left behind a sound like a voice—and was swallowed into the second-interval realm. Forever. The reverse chronometric wave ran through the entire zero hour tower. Somewhere far away, in a hospital room in the medical wing of Verna Academy, the excess chronometric essence in the body of Mira, who had been in a coma from chronometric overdose, was quietly neutralized. Mira's eyes slowly opened toward the white ceiling that no one was watching. Clara didn't know that was happening. All Clara knew was that the watch's hands had stopped. And then her memories began to fade. There was no pain. Just her name disappearing. Faces disappearing. Places disappearing. The morning she first found the pocket watch. Under the floorboards of her grandmother's house. A blue coat. The sway of the magnetic levitation train. The corridors of Verna Academy. The underground archive. The boiler room. The surface of the Silt River. All of it falling like sand through her fingers. The last thing to fade was the sensation of a certain voice. She no longer knew whose voice it was. But that voice had been calling her name—and that alone remained until the very end. Clara knelt on the floor. She didn't know who the person standing before her was. That person extended a hand. She couldn't see their face. She couldn't remember their name. But Clara took that hand. Tears overflowed. She didn't know why she was crying. But her body reacted honestly. That person wasn't crying. They simply held Clara's hand in return. With their other hand, they drew Clara's head close and pressed it against their chest. In a voice barely anyone could hear, they said: "[gentle]You haven't disappeared." Beyond the chamber, Laelia was operating a terminal. She was sending an emergency report to the Chronometric Authority. The Grandmaster stood motionless before the device's collapse. --- The chronometric medical facility in the Chronos metropolitan area wasn't far from the zero hour tower in the first district. The sky visible from the window was high, a thin blue befitting winter on the Valdis Plateau. Clara's memories returned gradually, in fragments. First came sensations. The smell of brick. The sway of the magnetic levitation train. The weight of old paper. Then came places. The corridors of Verna Academy. Haskel Lane in the seventh district. The darkness beneath the floorboards. And eventually came faces. The morning Mira's face returned, Clara felt a strange sense of urgency. She knew a face. She knew a voice. But she couldn't remember the name. She couldn't grasp who this person was or where she'd met them. It was just out of reach. While contemplating the source of that urgency, one morning—the name "Jason" suddenly surfaced in her consciousness. The moment she stepped into the corridor, she saw a figure walking toward her. Clara found herself walking faster than she expected. "[surprised]……Jason!" Jason stopped. He turned around. For three seconds, he said nothing. Clara stopped and took a moment to catch her breath. She knew what she wanted to say. But the first words that came out were slightly different from what she'd been thinking. "[sad]I liked you." She'd said it in the past tense and stopped herself. No. She still liked him. Even during those few days when she'd had almost no memories, somehow only his name had returned. Clara understood what that meant. "[gentle]……I still do." Jason's expression crumbled. His face, which normally processed everything as information, now didn't process it—it just showed on his face. Confused, yet as if something had finally come undone. "[gentle]……Me too." That was all he said, adding nothing more. The two of them stood in the corridor for a while. White walls. The low hum of the medical facility in the distance. Winter light streaming through the window. The silence after the confession conveyed far more than words could. At that moment, the door to the hospital room at the end of the corridor opened slightly. "[excited]Did you just confess? In front of the hospital room?" Clara turned red. She tried to go close the door, but Mira kept laughing and sticking her face out. "[laughing]I heard everything. Did you know the walls are thin? The chronometric medical facility has weak soundproofing, right?" "[angry]Mira!!" "Congratulations," came a voice from beyond the door, and Jason let out a rare, faint cough. That was enough. --- Laelia met Clara and Jason on the rooftop of Verna Academy several days later. The list of Horologion remnants and the seedbed plan's test subject records had all been submitted to the council. The Grandmaster was in custody of the Chronometric Authority. Three cogs—operatives—within the council had been identified and suspended from duty. The Fixer Chamber was sealed. The Definite Orbit Plan had completely collapsed. Laelia stood near the edge of the rooftop. Her silver hair swayed in the wind from the Valdis Plateau. "[serious]I've decided to remain as a council cooperator. I'll continue monitoring the remnants." Her tone was different from before. Not an order or a declaration, but her own words speaking her own choice. "[gentle]……Will we see each other again?" Laelia paused for a beat. "[gentle]If you search, I'll be there." She smiled for the first time. It disappeared in an instant, but it was definitely there. After Laelia disappeared through the rooftop door, Clara and Jason stood together near the railing. The western sky was beginning to turn orange. The sun was sinkin