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Time is always[break]
of the essence

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Tick, tick, tick, tick.[break][break]

The many watches and clocks surrounding Calypso have off the familiar chime that he loved so much. Each escapement challenging itself to be noisier than its competition, the timing of each impeccable to say the least. A symphony of fine timing, orchestrated by yours truly. Every clock and watch was in rhythmic unity, save for the one which lie open upon his bench. A golden Pocket Watch given to him by his father, which since given had never kept accurate time. A truth which caused the watchmaker many many restless nights. This night would be like the others, as he plunged into the inner workings of the device. Checking the mainspring and barrel, the jewels, the escapement and balance wheel, as well as the centering of the hairspring…yet nothing. [break][break]

He got no closer to identifying the problem, and he was still vexed as at the why. Twirling a small screwdriver in his hand, the man ignored the TV that was chattering in the background amid the orchestra of ticks and tocks. Instead he placed his finger against his chin, a light hmmmm sound falling from his lips that were pressed together tightly. Think think think, he thought to himself, trying to wrap his head around a far reaching solution that would satiate his madness for perfection. Every part of the timepiece had been manufactured to the highest standard, yet it performed out of synch with its counterparts. Why? Why had the Gods forsaken him so? As he thought this, a blinding light cascaded into his window, the blinds having been thrown wide open, he caught the entire ray, shielding his eyes for a moment before popping them back open. [break][break]

To his dismay, Calypso was no longer at his bench, instead some sort of semi-translucent screen was emerged from the ground. It gave no tips as to where he was…or even when he was. Had he fallen asleep at his bench? This seemed to have all the makings of a dream, as nothing felt ordinary about the place he was in. However the screen did something new as words wrote themselves across it, beckoning the old man to make a choice:

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The System has offered you the choice of these three classes. Please reply with the name of the class you wish to play as.
**1.** Chronomancer
**2.** Clockworker
**3.** ERE Earth Regulator Engineer

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For a moment he hesitated, tapping his finger on his chin once more. He didn’t believe in magic, he believed in physics, so Chronomancer was out. Finally Earth Regulator Engineer sounded to large of a task that he in his lazy elderly state didn’t feel the desire to regulate the world. ”Clockworker” he spat, as he went with the thing he had the most knowledge and awareness of. ”Confirmed”, bellowed the System screen. As the screen seemed to cascade away, another prompt appeared above his head in the form of stats. Having been an old man, a look of shock appeared on his face as speed was his highest stat. Not bad for an old fart.

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What he didn’t know is that he was the only one that could see it, furthermore his observation of this new place confirmed that he was not alone within its confines.

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Tick Tock!