10 years before the current day.
City of Theodora.
Eastern wing.
Jakon Industries Prototype G.A. Unit Research and Development Facility.
-
The facility's machinery rang and rumbled loudly.
Pulleys and levers and cranks and gears,
All spinning, moving, and changing in unison.
Young Delly Jakon ran haphazardly between the great and large machines as the operators tended to them, giving the small boy not an ounce of their attention.
His tiny red tinker torch in hand.
His mind far from where he physically was.
This place was dangerous.
Hot valves and steaming vents.
Hazardous chemicals and deadly vapors.
The Gateman Automaton prototype facility was filled with thousands of heavy moving parts that could crush and kill a small child in an instant.
But they never did.
Delly knew every twist and turn of the place like the back of his seven-year-old hand, as he had grown up in and around the building.
"Jakon Industries 03" belonged to his parents, Davien and Amoura Jakon, and day after day, he had been brought here starting very soon after his birth.
Delly had been raised and reared alongside the strange and ever-evolving Automatons that his dad had invented.
They were called the Gatemen, and his parents were working to perfect the first line of the semi-sentient constructs, the Model WXJ. 01. Wydell Prototype.
Yes, they had named the weird things after him, and no, he had no idea how he honestly felt about that.
On one hand, it was quite flattering.
It made him feel like they loved him enough to dedicate the... Things to him.
Conversely...
The naming of the machines made him feel a little less... Unique.
At his age, he was starting to come to terms with it.
Theodora was filled with all forms of magical and medical doctors, inventors, scientists, and engineers.
Wydell's father was one of the more famous of them all, and his field was a wonderful mixture of Biology and Tinkology.
The young boy knew precious little about Aether, but he knew that this facility was currently building the fully autonomous Gatemen, and that one day they would be all over the world "serving and protecting," as his mom had said.
Maybe once these things were done being built, he would finally get ALL of their love and attention, Wydell thought to himself.
Maybe.
Maybe he didn't care...
Maybe he hated these stupid Automatons for being so much more important than he was.
Maybe he-
"Wydell! WYDELL! I know you are in here, Kid!"
Oh, no...
It was his mom!
He was late!
He picked up his pace and tucked his torch into his back pocket as heads started to turn in his direction.
"Delly!"
Amoura called again, but this time with a bit more urgency in her voice, and a bit closer in proximity.
"Your father needs a quick word with you, and he has something really cool that you may want to see!"
Wydell ducked behind a large something-or-another.
The thing was slamming down parts for what appeared to be faceless heads, before a large arm made of steel rods, pulleys, and gears plucked them from the conveyor belt one by one.
Each of the eyeless heads seemed to stare at him for the handful of seconds it took for the arm to come back and pick the next one up.
Delly was creeped out.
Just a bit...
His mind returned to part of what his mother had said a moment ago.
Something that he'd want to see?
Hmm...
AH!
Wydell suddenly remembered that it was his birthday!
He slapped one of his small hands to his equally small forehead.
"What a day I've picked to be difficult, huh?"
He thought to himself.
And then;
"I had better hide! I wouldn't want to make it easy for her!"
A child can be nothing but a child, yes.
And so, he was.
Delly sprinted off in the opposite direction from which his mother came, haphazardly dropping his torch from his pocket as he turned to make way.
-----
Davien sat behind his long desk in his lofted office high above the bustling factory floor.
From end to end, its surface was covered in all manner of documentation whose contents would have melted the minds of the average man.
Maps and markers.
Blueprints and bulletins.
His days were filled with nothing but work, it seemed, and he loathed it...
He sorely needed more time with his wife and child.
His Amoura.
His Wydell.
His mind began to wander.
Time.
He needed to either make more of, or manage his time better...
30 feet below him, two dozen massive and thundering machines worked in unison, churning out parts and pieces of his newly designed and nearly perfected Gateman: The Model WXJ. 01. Wydell Prototype, and assembling those same parts where applicable.
The walls and windows that divided him from his ever-busy staff were so well sound-proofed that the man could hardly hear a thing.
Just as he liked it.
It was rather hard for the man to focus as it was, and the ever-present noise would have done him absolutely no good.
He took to his feet, stretching his arms over his head, and yawning aloud.
It had been quite the busy day, and it was about to get so much busier in all of the exact opposite ways that Davien had in mind.
He walked over to the window that offered him a panoramic view of the work floor below and placed both hands on the windowsill, gently pressing his forehead against the cool glass as he slowly scanned the area for his lovely wife and rambunctious child.
Far off to his right, he spotted Amoura.
Her cropped, bright, dirty-blond hair made her rather easy to spot amongst the crowd.
She stood with her hands on her gently rounded hips, and her brow furrowed.
Her head swiveled slowly from left to right in search of who Davien could only assume was the ever-difficult Wydell.
"That kid will be the death of us both someday."
He joked aloud, unaware of how ironically accurate his words would nearly come to be.
He chipped in on the search, slowly tracing his wife's line of sight until he spotted the boy himself.
"Ah, there you are, you little rascal!"
He jested aloud.
He would do a bit more than just look on, as he knew that Wydell would definitely make a playful run for it once the young boy realized his mother was in pursuit.
Davien focused a bit of his Aether and sent it forth, manifesting a gentle "pull" in his son's direction. Davien's ability was nearly instantaneous, and he was quite confident that the gentle nudge would halt the child in his tracks.
Unbeknownst to him, his wife had just called out to Wydell, just as Davien had cast out his spell.
Wydell daftly spun on his heel, moving to hide from his approaching mother, just as Davien had predicted he would.
The man's measured and accurate push spell missed by no more than an inch, grazing the tip of the little torch that protruded from Wydell's back pocket.
The tool fell with an unheard, unseen clatter to the busy, bustling floor below, and Wydell sprinted off none the wiser.
Davien watched the boy run off, having no idea that his spell had dislodged the boy's tool, and only the knowledge that he had missed his intended target.
"Hellz..."
He cursed himself in whispered tones before turning to make for his door.
He would head down to the work floor and help in person; he was sure his wife would prefer it that way anyway...
Davien took several steps towards his locked door and lifted his arm, extending his hand to manipulate the lock.
Suddenly he heard what sounded to him like...
A muffled blast?
Time seemed to slow around him as he tilted his head towards the floor beneath his feet.
The bolts that held together the steel plates began to glow a strange orange color before the plates themselves warped and buckled upward.
A great and terrible explosion had occurred on the work floor far below, and the resulting blast and heat wave very suddenly threw Davien upward and into the ceiling with such force that he was knocked unconscious instantly.