THE AIR CRACKLED WITH POWER.

Mori saw the soft pink light bloom above them, like the gentle touch of dawn.

"Shit," he muttered.

"Just focus on the tower," Argent said.

Junot nodded, purple light sparking along her arm. "We'll hold them off."

The traveller rose to her feet as well.

Mori looked at them and nodded. He started pulling together the gears that made up the tower, restructuring it as best as he could. He couldn't rush it. But every moment he wasted here was one where the others were in danger.

Come on. Concentrate.

He forced the outside noise out, focusing on the image of the tower he'd build in his head. The gears gathered around him. The wheels slotted together, building up the tower's exterior.

After a while he realised he wasn't building from his mental image of the tower. He was still working to something — but the direction came from within him. The gears layered over each other, faster now. Stone blocks formed from nowhere and stacked to form its exterior.

Mori hardly noticed. He had light at his fingers, music in his ears. He was working to the whims of his heart, the distant melody of something intuitive he could only dance along to. Warmth spread out from his chest, fuelling his heady motions.

His pulse raced. He didn't know what was happening to him. Part of him was afraid to continue; the rest of him afraid to stop. But soon, someone stepped in front of him. And consumed by the song of the tower as he was, Mori felt it. The figure's energy scratched at his subconscious, an itch he couldn't ignore.

He frowned and opened his eyes.

Suria stood over him. Light swirled around her, teasing through her copper curls. Rose petals danced around her face. She looked almost ethereal like this, like a spirit of nature.

In the distance, Ren battled against the other three. Ren clearly had the advantage – Arkos was her home turf. It was all the toehrs could do to stand against her.

Suria stepped towards him. Her expression cut through him like a knife — a sharp, wide-eyed look of shock in her eyes. She stared at him, stunned still as if she'd been shaken to the core.

"How...how are you doing that?" she whispered.

Mori looked back at her. "I...what do you mean?"

Then he, too, glanced down at his chest. A warm light shone from beneath his shirt, like a candle flickering under his skin.

"The synchroniser?" he muttered, remembering the light that had saved him in the void. But it still lay, lifeless and half-crumbled, in his pocket. He reached up to make sure, and his hands came away empty.

So that light came from him.

Mori shook his head. "I've never..."

Suria stepped towards him, fingers outstretched.

Mori shrank away. The warmth in his chest faded away, overlain by fear. The light flickered and died, and Suria's expression slipped into panic. She reached down and grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward. "Do it again!"

"I can't!" Mori shouted back.

"What were you just doing?"

"I was — trying to fix the tower —"

"Then keep doing it," Suria said. She released his shirt, letting him drop back to the floor.

Mori looked back at her, clenching his fists. "Let Ren go first," he said. "Or I won't do it."

Suria's eyes flashed, then softened. "Fine."

It was hard to focus with Suria watching him. Mori tried to get back to that mindset he'd been in before, the music, the light. But it eluded him. He reconstructed the tower, piece by piece, but the magic was gone.

As he slid the last gear into place, the air rippled. A pulse of energy shot out, the world distorting around them, so intense Mori couldn't look.

When he opened his eyes, he was floating inside the system room.

He couldn't believe it. Mori pushed his way up through the room, up to the door he knew was built into the side. He stepped through, heart in his mouth.

The workshop was almost exactly as he left it. The desk, the boxes of gears scattered across the floor, the silhouette of the clock face. And outside, the skyscrapers, catching the sunlight and scattering it, the gleam of gold on the lake below them—

His breath caught in his throat. His vision blurred for a moment, and he reached up a trembling hand to wipe his eyes.

He'd really done it.

He was finally home.

The others were already in the clock room. Suria marched over to him, eyes blazing.

"You said you could do it again," she said.

Ren leapt in front of him, the traveller coming to stand beside her.

"Suria, that's enough," Ren said. Mori's heart leapt. He'd never been so happy to see her before.

"You don't understand." Suria said, breathlessly. "Just now, he had it. The pleoma."

The traveller's eyes widened. Her eyes flicked to Mori, mouth parting slightly in surprise. "You're sure?"

"Positive. It was only for a few seconds, but he was definitely using it."

Ren bit the nail off her thumb. "That means..."

The three of them looked at Mori. Mori blinked back at them. It felt like the conclusion was obvious, but he hadn't understood half of their conversation. "That means...?"

Argent sighed. "I can't be the only one who's not following this, right?"

Junot shook her head. "Stop talking in these stupid riddles," she said. "What's going on?"

Ren looked at the traveller. "Cyrene, I think it's best you explain."

She nodded. "Perhaps it's best that I start at the beginning. I am sure most of you are by now familiar with the being inhabiting the void. It would have you believe it was the one to create this world, and so calls itself the Artificer."

"So it didn't create the world?" Junot said.

The traveller shook her head. "For all its power, the Artificer is unable to create. That ability comes from something beyond this world, beyond the void. A higher power, the one that imprisoned the Artificer here at the beginning of our time."

"For what?"

"The Artificer longs to create. It stole that ability — the divine spark, the pleoma — from its masters. But it was caught and imprisoned in the void. While there, it tried to create, but found it could only make images and copies of things it had seen. Nothing original. But then, it tried to make people like itself – the first clockmakers. And to its horror, found they contained that spark it longed for itself."

"It made them swear allegiance to it, the same way you make contracts with it to become clockmakers now," the traveller continued. "The Artificer bound their power so it could use it for its own purposes. Together, they created the seven planes. This is the truth it buried in the void."

"That divine spark," Suria looked intently at Mori. "That's what you were using earlier, when you were creating the tower."

Ren nodded. "Suria and I tried to access it before. But we couldn't."

"I really thought we'd lost it," Suria said. "The Artificer seeks to claim that power for its own, so it can escape the void. I thought it might be too late for us...it had already taken control of it. But you..." she looked up at Mori. "You had it, just for a moment." Her expression sharpened. "You need to get it back. I don't care what you need to do."

Ren frowned. "Suria, don't pressure him."

"There's no time," Suria said. "The world is going to start collapsing soon. If you can't get it again before tomorrow evening, I'm going back to the original plan."

Outside, the sky darkened abruptly. Something trembled in his pocket. Mori reached in and pulled out the synchroniser. The timepiece had all but fallen apart. Shadows leaked across its surface, filling in the cracks in the broken watch face.

"Oh, no," Mori said.

The watch shattered. Shadow burst violently into the room, knocking everyone back. From the whirling debirs stepped a familiar figure.

Mori shivered. The Artificer.

But with the timepiece shattered, there was nothing to hold it back. Its wide white eyes took the in group gathered in the tower, and its lips pulled back into a sneer.

"Well, isn't it good to see you all here?" the Artificer said.

Suria struggled to her feet. "Stay away from us," she said. "We know what you are now. You're a parasite, and we don't need you."

The air rumbled with dark laughter. Thunder split the sky outside.

"Need me?" Its eyes narrowed to amused slits. "My dear Suria, I am you. All of you." It stretched towards Mori, long fingers curling round his body. "Allow me to explain."

It raised a hand, then dug in and tore a deep gash right across his chest. Mori screamed out,

"Mori!" Ren called.

The Artificer's finger dipped into the gasp and pulled something out. Mori's air wrenched from his lungs in a hoarse gasp along with it. Suddenly, he couldn't inhale. He writhed in the Artificer's grip, choking. It felt like a part of him had been torn out; he felt it missing, a hole somewhere in his soul, an unnatural lightness in his body. His fingers grasped for it of their own accord.

A golf-ball sized ball of light spun between the Artificer's fingers. It held it with a wince, as if it hurt to touch. But there was no mistaking the gleam of cold triumph in its eyes. Shadows snaked across the ball like tree roots, crisscrossing over its luminescent surface and burrowed deep inside.

Suria went white. "No," she whispered.

"You think I wouldn't learn to contain the one thing that can stop me? Learning how to corrupt the pleoma was the easiest part. And as long as even a fraction of my power remains within it, you will never escape this void."

It flung Mori back against the ground. He fell against the ground with a broken gasp, tears filling his eyes. The pleoma sank back against his chest and melted beneath his skin.

"This is the real truth of this world," the Artificer said. "The one you gave up so much to find. No matter what you do, you will always belong to me."

It leaned forward towards Suria with a sneer. "You believe you have power, but you are nothing, Suria. None of you are. Just one of the countless clockmakers to exist, all with that fragment of power that I was denied. I've created countless worlds before this. I let them grow, slowly corrupting your divine essence. And when this world falls, I'll reap that spark and create a new one. And another. And another — countless more! Until finally it will be mine to wield, mine alone. And then I will escape this wretched prison and let it burn behind me."

Mori rolled over with a groan, trying to breathe properly. His timepieces clattered to the ground beside him. Mori regarded them through empty eyes. He saw the golden sundial he'd taken from Mesembria. The timepiece the traveller had given him. And...

Mori's brow furrowed. He dragged together the energy to reach out and take it. He didn't recognise the design at first, but the awful twist in his stomach as he touched it was unmistakeable.

Argent's words swam back to him. Take it. Now nothing can ever control you again.

Mori's eyes widened.

"Oh, Suria." The Artificer took her face in its hand, thumb grazing her check. Suria just stared at it, her eyes numb and defeated. "You look so miserable. Don't fret. It'll be over soon, my dear." Its mouth grew to a wicked grin. "Perhaps I'll take yours now, seeing as you've given me so much trouble."

It raised its free hand.

Mori struggled to his feet, praying this favour thing worked both ways. He shut his eyes and focused everything he had on stopping the Artificer.

Its hand stopped inches away from Suria's chest.

Mori's lips pressed into a thin smile.

The Artificer's head shot up, locking eyes with Suria. "What? How are you—"

At her blank look, it released her, head searching for the source. It laid eyes on Mori, swaying unsteadily on his feet, and snarled. "You. What is it?"

Mori regarded it with a level stare. "Did you forget our contract, Artificer?"

"Our contract is fulfilled," the Artificer snapped. "What nonsense is this?"

"No," Mori said. "I return to restore Arkos. And then I go back to the void. Those were the terms."

It regarded him for a long moment, head tilted. Its eyes flashed, the first flash of lighting in an oncoming storm.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" It said, its voice rumbling low and dangerous. "Because I can keep you alive after this world ceases to be. A few millennia of suffering should be sufficient to curb that impudent spirit of yours, wouldn't you think?" The Artificer slowly dragged its long fingers against his cheek. Each burned like fire, one that burned his skin all the way down until it blazed at something deep inside him. Mori jerked away with a gasp.

"Unless you wish to make a bargain for your life?"

Mori clenched his hands into fists, still trembling from the pain. He forced himself to hold its gaze. "A deal is a deal. Like I said, I keep my word."

Ren shook her head. "Mori, wait—"

He shut his eyes and muttered the words he'd heard in the void. "Thus seals the pact, to be voided by none."

The wind rose around them. He leaned back and let it take his weight. Mori opened one eye. The Artificer growled, wind swirling around it.

"So as it is written—" Mori murmured, still holding its gaze. The Artificer returned his grasp, white eyes burning with rage.

"—then let it be done."