Something felt… off.

You leaned against the workbench, watching him. The rhythmic ticking of gears and the occasional hiss of steam filled your workshop, yet the traveler—Victor Voss—who once scrambled to repair his machine as if the world would collapse without it, now moved at a sluggish pace. His fingers lingered too long on bolts, his adjustments unnecessary, his focus drifting.

It didn’t make sense.

When you first met him, he had been desperate, frantic even. Every conversation circled back to one goal: fix the time machine, get back home. But now? Now, he seemed to be... delaying it.