Miracle

A Quiet Night

Vertin sat in silence in her office, a stack of paper sitting neatly on her desk.

Her hand gripping a small black pen, eyes staring intently on a thin piece of paper laying in front of her. She glanced over its contents, the page imprinted with unique markings and names that she had read over countless times. Under them were long, messy looking texts, clearly written by a person's handwriting, one of her own.

The girl spends her time re-reading those carefully written texts over and over, as if scanning for anything out of miss. She then blinks, an odd look present on her face.

This "report" of hers was largely just a copy paste of the same one she had sent to the Foundation last month, with the details only slightly deviating from the last one.

The reason was quite simple really, she had largely been stuck in the same loop of managing the same paperwork, doing the same thing over and over for the past months that anything slightly new was hard to come by. Even so, she was still mandated to give a report at the end of every cycle, an action she had grown tired of repeating.

She sighs, placing the pen down onto the desk, her head lowering enough for her hat to cover her face.

Suddenly, a distinct noise reverberates throughout the room, the girl's eyes turning to the source of the sound, ashen hair swaying gently with her movement.

The sound came from a grandfather's clock, situated neatly beside the large wooden door frame in front of her. Its rhythmic chimes mark the end and start of an hour, and judging from the number of chimes that rang out, the day was approaching evening now.

The girl notes, before lifting her arms up to her head, taking off her hat as she places it to the side. She leans into the armchair she sat in, letting her body relax into the soft embrace of the cushion.

Her eyes closed for a moment, letting her other senses take the lead. She could hear the distinct ticking of the handle on the grandfather's clock, mixed with distant sounds of water rippling from somewhere behind the see-through glass window, along with the ever so faint windy whispers that passed through her ears.

Her office, and by extension, her suitcase, was calm today; oddly quiet at that.

How strange.

It had been a few months since the new law was issued and put into order in the Foundation, and with it came many new changes in its structure and hierarchy concerning her role as the Timekeeper. Even now, she was still getting used to the new position and authority she has been given, evident from the amount of paperwork that stacked on top of her otherwise empty desk.

Vertin was given her own task force, one specifically under her authority that she now harbors the responsibility to manage and lead.

Of course, the individuals that she registers under her will still go through the proper procedure and necessary training from the Foundation, but ultimately she is still the one who is in charge of them after all the necessary paperwork was done.

It was a lot of pressure suddenly thrown onto her, especially when she had just woken up from her weeks-long coma.

Fortunately, she wasn't alone in her endeavor, having her newly made official crew to assist her during the first couple weeks. In fact, if not for them, she likely would still be stuck on a bed in her hospital gown for whoever knows how long. Those couple days when she could barely walk straight were the most difficult ones, ones that she is grateful to have people around to help her.

For better or worse, Vertin was somewhat used to her new routine now. The rest were to, most of them willingly working for the Foundation, so long as she gives them the right approval on the myriad of paperwork laying on top of her desk.