[s1e11] - Fabrication

He didn't listen. He wasn't just making a key anymore. In his mind, he was building something else—a memory. He saw the intricate gears of his father’s old pocket watch, the one he had lost years ago. He felt every scratch on the brass, every tick of the escapement.

"Status check," Arthur murmured, his voice cracking from disuse. [S1E11] Fabrication

The cold fluorescent lights of the fabrication lab hummed with a low, rhythmic frequency that seemed to vibrate in Arthur’s teeth. It was 3:00 AM, the hour of desperate breakthroughs and catastrophic failures. He didn't listen

"I'm afraid you didn't just fabricate an object, Arthur," Hera replied, her voice sounding strangely distant. "You fabricated a choice. And it’s already been made." He saw the intricate gears of his father’s

"Hera," Arthur whispered, his heart hammering against his ribs. "What did I just fabricate?"

But as he looked closer, his blood ran cold. On the inside of the lid, where his father’s initials should have been, were his own. And underneath them, a date: tomorrow.

Instead, sitting in the center of the debris, was a perfect, functioning pocket watch. It ticked with a steady, rhythmic heartbeat. Arthur picked it up, his thumb tracing the familiar scratches on the casing.