Chapter Text
The Ancient and powerful Master of Time currently resided within the endless, ever-changing, as well as the forever uncontrollable abyss that was known as the Infinite Realms; where he paced tirelessly in his clock tower lair that was dubbed Long Now.
Within the galaxy-like terrain that was the Infinite Realms, it truly lived up to the name it was given as the possibilities were as infinite as they were incredible.
It was only with the Realms that Time could stand completely still, or Death have dominion over the living, or Fate could be challenged and legacies were continuously and perfectly made, or where Chance could duel equally with Destiny, or where all the possibilities in every single universe that was made, is made, or will be made can become endless with the impossible becoming realities.
It was an infinite cycle of the unknown becoming known and the impossibilities becoming possibilities—hence the given name of the dangerously beautiful death galaxy.
It truly was as infinite as the many dimensions, realities, and universes that resided within the Realms, a place for the impossible to call home.
Despite the fact that the Realms had much land and environment one could in theory control or own, no one can truly own the Realms.
The Infinite Realms was its own being. It existed and was not-quite alive not dead, a limbo state that breathed in the essence of Death and out creation and destruction so it could continue to sustain itself.
No one ruled the infinite Realms, no one could possibly control an ever-changing being. Not a god. Not a beast. Not a man or woman. And certainly not anything living—or dead, did that matter.
No one can not control the Realms.
But they can oversee it.
Time itself was, in theory, Clockwork’s domain as both an Ancient of the Realms itself and as a fallen god from multiple realities in the past, present and future.
He was one of the few beings who’d managed to be excluded from fading away throughout all existence as well as opted to stay within the current reality at hand instead of go off and venture into another one.
Clockwork liked this reality far too much just to pack up and leave.
The Flow of Time, alternate universes and realities, the past, the present, and all futures that can and will come to be was all Clockwork’s to oversee as both the Ancient eldritch being and the fallen god that he was, is, and will be.
A being such as himself does not exist for as long as he has without being acknowledged or noticed in some kind of way. Hence the many myths surrounding the same concepts or theories—Norse, Celtic, Greek, Roman, Egyptian, they all had found out of his existence in some sort of way.
It is because of this that he has been given many names over the years due to his odd divine occupation, along with many different myths accompanying the titles as well that tended to be completely, utterly, and hopelessly false—Father Time, Chronus, Lord Time, Master of Time, and so on through the millennials and centuries pass, passing, and will pass.
(He’d never even had children, let alone ate them. The Greeks were truly a peculiar bunch—but quite creative with their tragedies, even Clockwork had to admit).
If the Ancient himself must pick a favorite title or name that he’d been given over the many and numerous eons of existence, he’d likely go with the relatively newer one of Father Time.
Why? Well, it was a simple answer. One that spoke for himself—Clockwork adored children.
They had so very many choices to make, so many paths that could be taken and decisions to be made. Children were curious little things, as well. While he may be able to see everything that goes on, he does not have the ability to peer into nor read the minds of humans or anything else for that matter.
However, he found it easier to read children than adults, kids had no complexities that they fed into, they liked simplicity. This was right and this was wrong. They did waste time on second-guessing themselves or looking for loopholes or easier ways out.
They were effective decision makers—
—and as one who overlooked thousands to millions to billions of decisions every second of the day, the Master of Time could respect that deeply.
With all that said, Clockwork didn’t outright deny nor admit that he played favorites. Though every now and then, a child would step forth and the Master of Time would coincidently look the other way at just the right time, or nudge something just a bit forward or back to ensure a happy or joyous outcome.
He didn’t play favorites, he just…paid close attention to those who lived their lives in favor of his job.
So with all that said, was it truly any surprise to anyone that he adored the nickname of Father Time more than any other one given?
Clockwork loved children, and as Father Time himself, it was a part of his duties that he looked out for them.
Hence his current dilemma.
Clockwork paused his pacing and viewed the Timeline in front of him that was currently showing seventeen-year-old Daniel James Fenton escaping Amity Park under the cover of the midnight darkness with assistance from Wulf, tears shining under the moonlight within the boy’s eyes.
The Master of Time’s gaze softened ever so slightly, he hated seeing one of his Favored so broken and sorrowful, “I am sorry that it must happen this way, but this is for the best, my dear Daniel.”
Clockwork said a small blessing of the gods to young Danny Fenton—as he had done many times before for many others—before an idea appeared in his head, an idea that would work in the favor of every timeline currently possible.
The Ancient pursed his lips and furrowed his brow in thought before he waved a hand within the air of solitude of his clocktower of Long Now.
Daniel’s Timeline was now replaced by the timeline that housed a certain sixteen-year-old cat-themed superhero with a magical ring known as a ‘Miraculous’ on his finger who was currently patrolling the beautiful city of Paris, France.
The teen was attempting to hide his tears under the darkened sky as he watched the partner he’d stood by since the very beginning of them both being heroes converse with a team of heroes she’d assembled to protect Paris as well.
A team who did his job for him, who left him in the dust and made him look more like a destructive sidekick.
It made him feel and appear unneeded to both himself and the citizens of Paris. There were simply too many chefs in the kitchen as the saying goes; and it seemed that he was the chef who needed to hang up his apron and leave for good.
Once again the timeline vanished in turn of another, where a fifteen-year-old wizard was hidden under the magic of an invisibility cloak passed down by his deceased father in the dead of night as he overhears his once greatly admired and revered mentor's plan to use him as a pawn to sacrifice to the ‘greater good’ when the time would come.
Appearing that his kindness was nothing more than gaining his trust before leading him to his own death like a shepherd leading his youngest and most naive lamb to the slaughterhouse.
A new timeline appeared with two fifteen-year-old twins sitting on the old and worn couch of their great uncles’ cabin within the odd little town of Gravity Falls, Oregon; the two sniffling and wiping their tears fruitlessly as their grunkles tried their very best to comfort them—the boy holding one of his great uncle’s journal tightly in his hands as he cried with his twin sister.
The last timeline revealed itself with a seventeen-year-old CEO and vigilante watching as someone he considered his brother rip away the title he fought so hard for and give it away as though it meant nothing. Watching as he was tossed away the moment he wasn’t needed.
The teen held back tears—he had already been forgotten.
Clockwork pulled all five timelines in front of him to appear next to each other, glancing at every one of them before smiling softly to himself.
“It is at last time,” He spoke to no one and nothing in particular but the vast abyss that was the Infinite Realms, “Welcome into existence, League of the Inter-Dimensionals,”