"Well. It was inevitable I'm afraid!" Was heard, a quiet ticking of many clocks echoing through all of it, a cheerful voice reduced to a reality. A tiredness echoed in it, a tiredness that felt much older then the person really was.
The keeper of time let out a sigh at last, a long and deep seeded sigh after... After... In truth, he's lost track of the last time he sighed like that, the last moment he was blind to the many paths and outcomes and timelines that sprawl beyond it all. So many possibilities, so many timelines and alternate realities that came from the trunk of it.
Tired. When was the last time he felt tired? Long gone is the thought supplied by the broken and mangled mind.
He sat upon the shears that were his burden to bear, the very scissors to prune and clean up the edges. To preserve the realities of some many possible timelines, to ensure it all ran properly. It was the job given to him, the one he took up with a smile and brought others into.
Others were ringmasters or programmers or beings of great power who commanded others. He's seen many of them, so many faces that mirror his own, the similar eyes that look back towards the ones they command. To others, they had broken free of a cage to create and be seen. Made a Circus for themselves, and in turn to seek praise. They believed themselves free of a box that they were thrusted into. How could any of those version comprehend just how large the box really is? And no matter how hard one pounds at the walls, they can't be shattered into many tiny pieces.
And yet he looked forward, towards the edge, the end of it all. The tree had grown so far in who knows how many years since it was born of a seedling that was planted. The absolute is something many never get to see, unless they were those bound to a timeline that needed to be pruned. A timeline that would consume and devour the core timeline it branched off from, and it is where choices are made. To stay or to come with.
He looked towards the vastness of it all, the very edge of it all. The End of Time. It made sense, of course. This was the end of the very origin of all that branched off from it, the curtain closed and shut for good. The actors having taken a bow, a story book shut and placed upon the shelf. All versions of himself knew this was the outcome in the end. Nothing can grow on forever, nothing can sustain such energy forever.
The Origin Timeline has finally ended, has finally closed it's curtains for good.
Of course that doesn't mean the other timelines wouldn't continue, wouldn't grow further and further until they can't go on anymore. It's how trees worked, the trunk ends eventually as the branches grow further and further beyond it.
As the leaves and twigs reach out towards the very heavens, to the sun and the moon that look down upon them. Towards the stars that twinkle on, towards things that they could never grow to touch.
And yet they grow either way. Because that is what they do, and what they will always do.
Which means a time keeper's job is never truly done. And the tree the time keeper nests upon grows out and upwards just like the older tree it was born from originally.
Another sigh escaped, the man leaning backwards as he watches the curtains flutter and the ticking gears spin ever on at the end of time, watching it all bloom outwards like a flower and him a tiny little bee hoping to even grace its presence.
When was the last time he drew a bee in the margins of his work? When he would tighten the bolts and ensure the machines ran smoothly, doodling little bees in the margins of the reports he would hand in?
Oh he can't recall. That timeline is gone now. Torn to shreds. So he instead watches on, watching the beginning of all things finally end and bloom outwards. A faint ringing from a watch underneath old leather gloves, the being stretching out fully and letting out a groan from the motion before the old smile coats his words like sweet honey.
"Welp, back to work it seems! To my own circus!"