Reverse 1999 x Reader

The Suitcase

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???, 1929. Inside the Timekeeper's suitcase.
(1ST PERSON)

"Follow me, all the way down the road to the depth of the suitcase." I squeeze her hand for a moment when I fear I might fall. Which is funny, considering I can't even seen what's in front of me. I could be walking down a staircase in the abyss, or I could be walking down a normal set of stairs you'd likely see in someone's house. Or if you want to be literal, a rocky road, like the Timekeeper said.

"It's dark. I...I can't see anything..." Regulus pauses for a moment. "Where... where are you taking us?" I turn toward the direction of Regulus's voice. "I'm sure we'll be fine. I don't think our enigmatic friend here, as strange as she seems, would harm us in this situation." I hear a sigh in front of me. "That's right. I still need you both. I promise you where we're going is safe. Just take my lead." I stifle a retort. "If you say so. But seriously, where and what is this?"

The sound of our footsteps is overtaken by the sound of a door clicking open.

*Creak...*

"A safe place. An 'ark' sailing in the 'Storm'." I open my eyes right as Regulus gasps, and I quickly see why. The room we're in looks... messy, but homey. Cozy. The warm brown of the wooden furniture and the pleasant greenery outside the large window remind me of a treehouse. Well, a treehouse made by a rich kid, at least. But aside from the strange familiarity, I also get a feeling of something alien.

Anachronistic items sit before me, electronic machines, large things made of a material I cannot recognize (perhaps steel?), and as Regulus kindly points out: "A whole wall of photos..." I look over to where my small companion is referring to, and see a wall that would make a conspiracy theorist shed a tear. All the papers must be hard to keep track of. And red glitt- oh no, that's just my imagination.

...Darnit.

I'm shaken out of my thoughts when I hear the Timekeeper's voice again. "Please allow me to re-introduce myself. I'm from St. Pavlov Foundation— same place as where the investigators you have met. That's where we grew up." I tilt my head. So my hunch was right, but that last part sets me on edge. Grew up? I don't know much about the recruitment process. Does the Foundation abduct kids or something? I highly doubt they'd allow childbirth inside their headquarters.

"My position is the Timekeeper, people who record the time of the outside world." She turns to face the large wall of papers, and I have to strain my eyes to see what's actually there.  "That is... people who record the beginnings and ends of eras." Regulus gasps again. I squint my eyes even more, but the papers become as visible as a needle in a haystack.

"Can't see any of it. Regulus, you're gonna have to tell me what's on there." I step closer to the arcanist in question, whose head is particularly close to a certain picture on the wall. "It's Lewis. I know him!" I raise an eyebrow. "Who's Lew-" The Timekeeper cuts me off before I can finish. "Yes, I took this photo several days ago. He was selling the Hoover Upright Vacuum Cleaners in the West End, and thought photos would help his business, so he gladly took this."

Regulus, in a mix of fear, concern, and confusion asks, "Why'd you take a photo of him? How's he..." My eyes darken when I realize something. If Lewis was a human, and all humans were taken up by the storm, then that means-

"..." The Timekeeper's solemn and pain-filled sigh tells me all I need to know. I pat Regulus on the shoulder again, but she just seems lost. The Timekeeper gestures to another photo.