Tuesday's Times [KttK]

So I just finished reading Grim Tuesday...again...and it's really sad what happened to Tuesday's poor, poor Times. Especially at the end where Yan was getting excited. *sobs* So this is inspired by them, I guess. (I can only remember like, 4 of them.) I own nothing.

Grim Tuesday, Lord of the Far Reaches, Wielder of the Second Key to the Kingdom and the Architect and one of the Seven Trustees of the Will, nodded to his Dawn, Noon and Dusk. They were inside his Treasure Tower, which wasn't yet encased by the glass pyramid, but already was built. In fact, they were not so much inside as 'underneath', miles beneath the surface, accessible only by an elevator.

This place was built for only one purpose and would, very soon, cease to exist. It was a large room, separated in half with immaterial glass. Tuesday stood on one side of the room, and his Dawn, Noon and Dusk on the other. The Trustee was wielding the Second Key, as usual, which took the shape of silver gloves on both his hands.

"Stand closer together!" Tuesday barked, as his Times quickly complied.

Noon opened his mouth to speak. Tuesday snapped at him. "Problem, Noon?"

"Yes, sir," said Noon respectfully, inclining his head. "Well, no sir," he added as an afterthought. His voice was smooth and persuasive, but held no power over his master nor his siblings. "It is not so much of a problem as a difficulty."

"And what is that?" Tuesday asked.

"Well, sir," began Noon reluctantly. "Meaning no disrespect, Lord Tuesday, but I cannot see how splitting us into seven will increase the amount of work being done. Surely we shall command less power, not to mention the uncomfortable experience and all the potential disasters which are possible--"

"They are not possible!" said Tuesday. "I have wielded the Second Key for millenia. There will be no mistakes."

"I did not mean mistakes, but rather unforeseen circumstances."

Next to Noon, dressed in all black with silver buttons, was Dusk. It was he who know spoke. "Lord Tuesday," Dusk said quietly, yet his voice seemed to carry. "I agree with Noon. It would be too hasty and dangerous for such an experiment. We shall be weaker when separated, and it will be painful and time-consuming. It is against the natural order the Architect--"

"The Architect!" laughed Tuesday disdainfully. "She is gone, and her Will hidden where no one will find it. I disobeyed the Architect the moment the Will was split into seven pieces. Now, if there are no more protests--"

"Lord Tuesday!" cried Dawn. "I cannot fathom why you are doing this!"

"I, also, object," said Dusk.

"Perhaps we should consider another possible alternative," said Noon.

"It is too dangerous--"

"And painful--"

"We shall become weaker--"

"It would be more difficult to serve you--"

"I cannot see how--"

"QUIET!" Tuesday roared. His Times ceased immediately, and silence filled the room. "You shall not speak," he told them. "Your opinion matters not. Seven shall be able to mine more Nothing than three. Now, stand closer together, while I meld you into one being, and then into seven--"

"Please, Lord Tuesday!" cried Noon.

"I command you to become silent immediately!" Tuesday barked. Once again, there was utter silence. "Now. As Lord of the Far Reaches and wielder of the Second Key, the Times of Grim Tuesday, Dawn, Noon and Dusk, are to become one Denizen."

The three Times began to glow witih a silvery white light, too bright for lesser Denizens to look upon. Grim Tuesday kept his attention completely focused as the three of them began to meld into one figure. When the light faded, Dawn, Noon and Dusk had become one person, easily nine feet tall, with perfect features.

They--that is to say, he bowed. "Lord Tuesday." Their voices were combined, too, creating a harmony of smooth sound.

Tuesday nodded with approval. He raised the Second Key again and muttered another few words. The figure glowed with a light brighter than before, then began separating into seven indistinct shapes. At first, there were sounds of mild discomfort, then gasps, groans and then screams. The person screamed as their essence was torn apart, a sound which seemed to shatter the heavens. It was the sound of the ultimate torture - of a body split into seven, of a soul torn, battered and broken.

Then the light faded, and the sound suddenly cut off, and seven Grotesques stood in a line.

"Lord Tuesday."

Grim Tuesday nodded. His job was well done.