Clocktower Ascent Part 2

  With a thunderous crash, we pushed open the heavy wrought-iron door that led us into a new chamber high atop the Clock Tower. The room stretched out like the imposing heart of a living machine, filled with massive, towering gears, steam-powered pistons, all moving at varying speeds in rhythm with a perpetual ticking - the sound of each passing second. Enormous windows bathed the chamber in light, revealing the second hand moving outside. Thousands of illustrations of stars, moons, and zodiac symbols adorned the walls, marking the clock's dual purpose as both timekeeper and grand celestial calendar.

  The sound of battle could be heard only a few feet above. A scattered group of werewolves moved among the machinery, trying to corner a single man - a mere human. Wearing nothing but a long coat and leather vest, he wielded nothing but a beautifully ornamented flintlock pistol, adorned with the most exquisite filigree and intricate leaf-like designs that doubled as circuits for mystical energy. But far from firing a single shot, the barrel of his weapon flared with an ethereal glow, releasing an enormous ball of white magic. The moment it touched the arm of one of the werewolves, the creature erupted violently into a gruesome crimson mist. And after that brutal attack, it didn't even need to reload before firing another one.

  "Oh shit, this guy looks like the kind of person who's a massive pain in the ass."

  "They need help with him."

  "Tamamo, try to get his attention-I'll climb up and attack from behind."

  "Maria, stay back, this is very dangerous."

  "And you, Sebastián - watch out! Try not to end up in pieces. Stay sharp."

  Without hesitation, Tamamo sprang into action, drawing her naginata and hurling it at the man, who moved through the clockwork mechanisms as if they were an extension of his own body, deftly dodging the attack. Meanwhile, I crept through a network of pulleys and iron ledges, working to remain unseen as I prepared my strike. I climbed between colossal gears that groaned under the weight of time itself. Every move was a risk - my fingers strayed dangerously close to razor-sharp metal edges, and the constant fear of slipping into the mechanical abyss gnawed at the back of my mind. Tiberius Blackthorn saw Tamamo join the fight and, suspecting my plan, howled to his comrades. The werewolves seemed to change their strategy, trying to corner the man with the gun in a place where it would be easier to attack him.

  "Damned beasts, you defile my masterpiece with your presence!"

  "I will purge you one by one for daring to touch the fruit of my labor and ingenuity!" the man said, aiming his pistol.

  A moment of distraction, a chance. Even though I wasn't fully prepared, I decided to take it before he disappeared. I jumped from the lever that was holding me and lunged at him, dagger in hand. Instead of firing, he hesitated for a moment when he heard the movement of the lever I was clinging to. Sensing my presence, he quickly raised his hand to grab a cog that lifted him safely out of reach, avoiding my attack from behind.

  "Inquisitor Elise!"

  "It's a pleasure to see you among us again," one of the wolves in the pack greeted me.

  "Who is this guy? He looks like a real pain in the ass," I asked.

  "Mikulá? of Kadan, master magical clockmaker, creator of the Prague Astronomical Clock, and the engineer behind the clock tower of Dracula's castle," Tiberius Blackthorn replied angrily.

  "So he's the one who rebuilt the castle, huh..."

  "Elise, be careful."

  "There is still something hidden in this mechanical maze. Be careful," Tamamo warned.

  "The clock is much too complex and massive. Even if it's just a clock, it doesn't need a whole tower filled with gears all the way to the floor."

  "It does more than just measure time."

  "Could it have something to do with what was below, in the dungeons?"

  "If so, this is more than a problem."

  "We have to stop it."

  "Damn savages, multiplying more and more, trying to steal and destroy my work!"

  "Go ahead, steal and kill each other! But leave my work alone!"

  "This tower is the product of centuries of laborious mathematics, science, and alchemy! I will not allow anyone to touch my legacy!"

  The clockmaker was furious at our presence in the main hall of the tower. Mikulá? of Kadan couldn't stand to have anyone around him - he wanted to be locked away with his work, a master craftsman trapped in his own obsession. But his skill and mastery as a magician and clockmaker were undeniable, just by looking at our surroundings. Damn, Dracula really picked a hell of a friend in this guy.

  Every blow, every spark, every shot was intertwined in the symphony of the clock tower, where time itself was both ally and enemy; with every tick or tock, something moved - an opportunity, a problem - the passing of every second was the tempo that dictated every action.

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  "You will not touch my creation! Their minds are too primitive to understand!"

  From his lofty perch, the watchmaker unleashed another burst of ethereal energy. A white bolt of lightning tore through the air and sliced through one of the supports of the metal structure I was clinging to. I felt the creaking of the beams, the sudden void beneath me, and the imminent danger of falling straight into the heart of the machinery. I held on as best I could, cursing under my breath as I watched Tamamo and Tiberius face off against Mikulá? of Kadan.

  Sebastien Belmont watched the fight, learning and thinking; after seeing how the battle was unfolding, he declared it was time to act. He jumped and grabbed one of the steel ropes with rising weights, quickly climbed up, then jumped again to grab another pulley and approached the watchmaker without fear. The boy took a large cross from his pocket, imbued it with magic, and hurled it with great force. Mikulá? saw the attack coming and dodged it just after deflecting Tamamo's naginata. Tiberius appeared right behind him and struck him with his hammer, pushing him aside. But the real blow was delivered by the boy, who took advantage of his rival's movement to drive the axe he was holding into him, then used his free hand to push him into the void.

  "No!" he shouted over the din of the battle, but his cry was drowned out by the incessant tick-tock of the machinery.

  The impact was brutal. The colossal spinning gears closed in on Mikulá? with the precision of a perfect judgment. The crash echoed in every corner of the chamber as metal and flesh were torn apart in a symphony of creaking and snapping. In an instant, the master watchmaker was reduced to a gruesome crimson stain - his body crushed and fragmented as if the Tower itself wanted to erase every trace of life, his blood seeping through the grooves of the gears.

  We all froze, watching in astonishment as the figure of the man - symbol of an overwhelming passion and an imperishable heritage - was devoured by the voracity of the machine. There was a tense silence in the room, the only sound being the perpetual ticking, now tinged with a somber tone.

  Tiberius Blackthorn spat on the ground, wiping the blood from his cheek.

  "Well, that settles it," he said as he moved to take the ladder.

  We all gathered upstairs in a lounge filled with books, stills, blueprints, calculators, compasses, and measuring tools. The centerpiece of the room was a model of the very clock tower we were in, but upside down, hanging from the ceiling, filled with cables and sandbags, next to a mirror that gave meaning to the structure. It was clear that this was the workplace of Mikulá? of Kadan. Intrigued by the craftsman's work, Tamamo watched the hanging model with her wise gaze, her eyes reflecting an ethereal glow in the dim light of the room. She touched one of the ropes with her hands, took a handful of sand from one sack and added it to another.

  "This model is not just a representation," she began, her voice calm yet firm.

  "It is a map of forces, of points of support, like a chessboard where each piece plays its part in maintaining order." She watched the cables connect the model with meticulous precision.

  "Mikulá? has tried to recreate the gravity and tension of the tower, using the laws of nature to support his work."

  "This is not just a replica of the Clock Tower," she said, elegantly pointing out the intricate details.

  "Every line, every piece, has a profound purpose, a balance that defies the laws of physics."

  "The function of this model is to find the exact points of support for the tower-not just on a physical level. The forms here are designed to carry the weight of the immaterial."

  "This clock does not simply measure time; it balances cosmic forces, as if trying to align the flow of time with the universe itself."

  “Yes, very nice and all, but what’s the point of all this?” I asked, having no idea what she meant.

  Seeing that the others in the room were distracted, checking for traps or gathering anything useful for our advance toward the Dark Lord’s chamber, Tamamo approached me to speak in private.

  "The purpose of the clock, besides measuring the passage of time, was to try to do something more."

  "This model, inverted, works just like the big one we are in now."

  "But what Mikulá? of Kadan wanted to do with the inverted tower was to measure time in a different way."

  "He wanted to determine the exact date when the castle was built, in all of universe time, and perhaps overwrite its magical circuitry."

  "Attempting to gain full control of the cathedral."

  "Trying to determine the age of the castle by building a whole giant tower of gears?"

  "Isn't that a bit... excessive and useless at the same time?" I said.

  "Well, you have to remember that Mikulá? of Kadan is a genius - from the 15th century - and as lonely as he is, he is still trapped there."

  "Sure, he may not have been aware of all the technological advances that have happened since then."

  "He did the best he could with what he knew and what he discovered on his own."

  "A genius, only ignorant, but not a fool."

  "It's something even I might have tried to create, without prior knowledge of anything else, when faced with such an impossible task."

  It was a moment of rest, a brief pause to regain strength. María was frightened when she saw the werewolves with their violent appearance approaching her, trying to promise her protection and that she had nothing to fear from them. Tiberios, upon seeing Sebastián, introduced himself and mentioned that he was glad to see a member of the Belmont House join the hunt again.

  A little later, Valerious Van Helsing's party appeared, rejoicing to see Gideon Belmont's son rescued and alive. However, Sebastian, slightly annoyed at being treated as a protected-just like my sister María-declared firmly that he would join the battle.

  The boy asked about the whip, the inheritance of his ancestors. Inquisitor Van Helsing replied that Alejandro del Toro had it and that the next step would be to meet him and his group. Fortunately, a Knight of Light appeared - a messenger - and called us all to the other side of the castle. The entrance to Dracula's throne room had been discovered by Alejandro del Toro and Heinrich Lecarde.