CRIMSON ROTH

Chapter 3 - The Library of Secrets

Not only the NYX was a great jet of a spaceship, but your personal computer (Earthling language for a Computatrum) too. While Crimson played with wires and plugs below deck, twisting and turning them as trying to fix her spaceship, Jake busied himself with a lot of research. He seemed quite energetic, having to be freed from the boring cell he was trapped inside for who-knows-when.

Crimson, nearly finished with the repairing, called out, "Hey, Jake! How's the research doing?" She hoped for a positive answer, because the idea of saving the world was starting to die off her shoulders. She wanted to save the world but she didn't want to journey whatever dangers there were before her. But of this makes her an Aviatrix or anything better- like a hero, maybe- she's up to it.

"Ah, yeah," Jake replied loudly, his eyes glued to the pages he's flipping through. "Apparently, this ship is quite fortunate to be built by the Roths, eh?" He flipped through a battered leather book. "To be specific, Arden Roth. He's got a lot of information on the Clock and how to shut it down." He called out to the below. "Just... come up here for a second!"

Crimson clambered onto the spaceship and congregated above Jake's shoulder. A picture of Arden Roth stuck on the cover of the book. "That's my great-great-great uncle. A real pain in the arse after he ran away from the family..." Crimson paused, before saying, "... like me." She flipped through the pages, toying them a bit. "He's an amazing Aviator and writer, but I never knew where he... I don't know, live now, I guess? He must be buried somewhere."

There was silence, before Jake broke the ice and said, "Well, enough with the sad stories. It said that he found a lot about the Doomsday Clock in a library not far from here. Coincidentally, it's on this planet." Jake shrugged. "No wonder they made the Clock here."

"So we've got more walking to do," Crimson groaned, stretching her arms. "You know... I've not really healed my back well yet." Jake stood up to leave as Crimson yelled, "I'm coming! I'm coming!" as she jogged behind the desperate lad.

As they walked, Crimson asked, "So... You're family lives here, I guess?" She twiddled with her fingers and bit her lip, trying to break the ice. When Jake did not answer, she just sighed, "Well, if you don't feel like talking to me somehow-"

Jake shook his head, probably from daydreaming, and replied, "Oh. Oh. Uh... Sorry. I was just-" he nudged his eyebrows to his left, "there." He rubbed his hands. "Yeah! So. Um. Well, my parents died... You know, when the invasion happened- mass load of shootings and all. I escaped to the countryside of this planet, though it was only safe for a couple of weeks before being invaded. I was 700th in line."

"In line for what?" Crimson asked, curious. "For execution?" He stayed silent for a while, probably suggesting she had annoyed or even offended him. "Sorry. Won't happen again. Continue."

"Well, I was 700th in line for- as you said- execution." He pointed at a green glint in the dark dawn sky. "You see that?" Crimson nodded. "Everyday, a person's energy is extracted to make a force-field around this planet to protect the Doomsday Clock so first, it won't affect the Gregorax and secondly, no one can enter Gregorax unless with immense power to stop the Clock from stopping too early."

"Ah, I see," Crimson said, understanding the situation. "Do you still miss your parents, Jake?" He nodded solemnly. "I do too. You know... That constant reminder that you regret doing something? It's my everyday school bell. Leaving my parents... was sort of the wrong and right thing to do. The worst decisions can leave you to the oddest places."

Jake nodded. "I agree. And... here we are!" He pointed at a building decorated in white pillars and a stretch of straw-thatched roof. It was unusual to Crimson- how unique the design was. It seemed old but very foreign, as if the builders did not have enough Glitenium to build a living space. Unlike most buildings in Gregorax, which were tall and silver, the Library was shabby and space-limited. Smoke came out of some kind of hole; it was square and rectangle-like.