Ch. 88: Time for the Reset
The machine roared to life right before my very eyes, its massive arc flooding the workshop with waves of dancing light. It was breathtaking, no matter how much Hephaestus explained the science behind it, it still looked like an expensive glow lamp at a carnival. Let’s be clear— I wasn’t scared, just… nervous.
“So, I just jump into that thing, burn up, and then wake up back in time?” I asked, trying to mask my apprehension with nonchalance.
Hephaestus snorted, his voice deep and heavy. “Yes, if you were a monkey, that is. This isn’t a bonfire. It’s revolutionary science at its peak, and you treat it like a parlor trick. There must not be many scientists in your time.”
He stood beside me, a massive presence, yet I could feel the weight in his voice. I wasn’t sure if he was angry at me for agreeing to take Talos with me or angry at himself for failing to earn her forgiveness. Either way, it didn’t matter now. At least Hephaestus had tried to mend the rift between them, unlike me— I had never even tried.
I instinctively reached for my hair, only to realize I’d lost that hand long ago. I still missed it. “We had scientists where I’m from. But I was never a man of science. I preferred the mysteries of life over equations and formulas,” I said, attempting to break the awkward silence. But Hephaestus wasn’t listening. His deformed face was focused on the swirling mass of colors within the machine, as if it held all the answers to the world’s questions.
“I won’t let her get hurt,” I muttered. It was more of a vow to myself than to him.
Hephaestus grunted, a deep, rumbling sound. “Oh, I know. If you do, I’ll make sure every curse in existence finds you.”
He turned to face me, a wide grin stretching across his face. “Now, let’s get started.”
I nodded.
In the corner of the workshop, Talos stood talking to Hermes. They were too far for me to hear what they were saying, but whatever it was, it left Hermes looking downcast. When Talos caught my gaze, she ended the conversation abruptly, leaving Hermes looking even more disappointed. She must’ve realized that time was running out. She walked toward me with slow, deliberate steps. Gone was the cheerful Talos I had once known. I missed that version of her, but this wasn’t the time for such thoughts.
“It’s time, I suppose,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with something deeper. I nodded in reply.
Talos cast a glance at Hephaestus, who remained silent, his eyes distant as if seeing something far away. For a brief moment, I thought he might give her a farewell, but instead, he turned and grabbed the case containing the serums we’d need before we could travel back in time. Maybe gods didn’t bother with sentimental goodbyes.
Hephaestus returned and opened the case, revealing two vials of a shimmering, golden liquid inside syringes. He took one in his hand and looked up at me, his eyes filled with a pain that mirrored my own. This was it. Everything that had happened since I arrived here—the suffering, the loss—had led to this moment. I didn’t want to change the past because I wanted to. I had to.
He injected the serum into my arm. I had expected some kind of reaction—pain, nausea, something—but my body felt exactly the same. Talos received her injection as well, and she looked unaffected too.
“Now, step into the arc of the temporal rift generator,” Hephaestus commanded, his voice booming through the workshop.
Talos moved ahead of me, eager to be done with this and distance herself from her adoptive father. But as she neared the machine, she hesitated. I watched her stop dead in her tracks. She wasn’t as strong as she let on. I didn’t say anything. We had already been injected with the serum; there was no turning back now. I stepped past her and reached out toward the swirling vortex.
The moment my fingers touched it, I felt a cold, sticky sensation—like dipping my hand into a freezing puddle. I wondered if I’d melt the second I stepped inside, but I pushed forward, letting the light envelop me. Out of instinct, I closed my eyes as I crossed through, unsure if keeping them open would do any harm.
When I finally opened them, I was fully inside. The colors settled into a swirling tunnel of light, a surreal kaleidoscope of motion. I glanced back, and through the transparent barrier of the machine, I saw Hephaestus and Hermes talking, their faces serious. Were they expecting me to explode?
Talos joined me inside the arc, her eyes filled with pain. She was never one to dwell on emotions, though, so she stepped up beside me in silence. The air between us was thick with unspoken words, but neither of us broke the quiet.
“That bubble you just entered is a stabilization mechanism,” Hephaestus explained, his voice amplified by the machine’s hum. “It’ll keep your bodies intact while the particle accelerator charges to full power.”
He’d told me before that the biggest challenge with time travel was quantifying time itself—turning years into numbers that a machine could process. According to his theory, to travel back two hundred years required an enormous amount of energy, far more than even the gods could muster on their own. But Hephaestus had a solution for that.
He raised his hands and boomed, “SUMMON, THUNDERBOLT, MOTHER OF THE SKIES!!”
Golden lightning crackled in his palms, and a fierce wind whipped through the workshop. But inside the bubble, Talos and I were untouched. Moments later, Zeus’s thunderbolt appeared in Hephaestus’s grasp. He had once forged the weapon, and now he could summon it at will.
With a mighty roar, he thrust the thunderbolt into a small slot in the ground. The machine whirred and vibrated as the energy surged through it.
“In five minutes, the particle accelerator will be fully charged,” Hephaestus said, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “Then I’ll send you back.”
I nodded in acknowledgment, though I felt the weight of those five minutes bearing down on me. Talos remained silent, her eyes fixed on the ground.
Suddenly, Hermes darted forward, his expression frantic. “Wait! If you change the past, will I still exist? Or will I never be reborn?”
I remembered how he had confided in me—his greatest fear wasn’t death; it was living a life that didn’t matter. If we succeeded in changing the past, saving the real Hermes, the Hermes standing in front of me might never exist. It was a terrifying thought, like hitting a reset button on reality itself.
“If it comes to that… don’t worry about me,” Hermes said, his voice trembling. “Save the real Hermes. I’ve had enough fun for one lifetime.”
I could see the certainty and determination in his eyes. Before I could respond, the machine let out a sudden screeching noise. Something was wrong.
The lights flickered, and a low rumble shook the ground beneath us.
“Hephaestus!” I shouted. “What’s happening?”
He cursed under his breath and ran to the control panel, frantically pressing buttons. “It’s overloading! The thunderbolt’s power—”
Before he could finish, a deafening crack split the air. The machine exploded in a blinding flash of light.
If I revive a magic castle I will mass release 10 chapters
