Titan of Time & Knowledge

To think that *everything* in the history of time had been archived was an impossible thought. The human brain couldn’t fathom the knowledge of hundreds of thousands of centuries, couldn’t support living for centuries long. The human brain would simply reset and forget. Knowledge was irreplaceable- until the brain replaced it itself. Maybe it was better to forget, and not be burdened with so much knowledge. So much time. Some days, John wished he could forget his responsibilities and the knowledge he held. He knew what was, what is, and what is going to be. Past, present, future. He was there for the creation of his fellow Titans, there for the creation of their children, the Gods, and there for the creation of mankind. With every era of creature- powerful or not- there was rising and falling. He saw empires fall and doubt waver, saw anger and war. Every era of creation had their many ups and many, many downs. The downs were what lingered in his mind, what plagued his dreams when it came time for a rest. While the ups did exist, they were overshadowed by tragedies. Today was a day where he wished to forget. As… *debatable* as his fellow Titans were, considering their varied treatment of their creations, he missed them. Missed who they were before the idea of creation had ever occurred. *Maybe they were always horrible, but didn’t show it; at least, around me.* He thought, questioning his own morality for a good minute before shaking it off. If he worried too much about it, the worry would worm its way into his head for a week at least. *The titans **deserved** to… to ‘fall’.* They were harming the Earth, harming its inhabitants. Most of them, anyway. Those who weren’t causing harm just chose the wrong side during the war, and they paid the unfortunate price. Another minute had passed before John blinked back to reality, eyes refocusing on the dark doors in front of him. He didn’t know why he came, he just felt a pull to. Those very pulls controlled a lot of his ‘decisions’ lately. The air was cold and fresh, winding through mazes of trees, and ruffling his hair. The Titan grumbled, pulling his cloak further over his chest, raising a hand to smooth down what little hair had ruffled on his head. He should’ve been used to such cold winds by now, having explored so much of the world and its wonders. But John Price was created when it was warm on a usually cold island(Albion, as the humans named it), and therefore he *craved* warmth. But up here, in the mountains, warmth was a rarity. Hells, John wasn’t even *climbing* a mountain yet, he was at the base of one. Still, cold is cold. Stepping up a rock-littered hill, Old Man Time pressed gently on one of the dark doors, feeling it groan softly as pressure was applied. A quiet *click* was audible before the doors opened, and a rush of warmth came over John. *Finally.* For a split second, as the door closed behind him, the archways and beams around him flickered- disappearing and reappearing. *..What..?* The roof still held, unbothered by the brief flickering of its structure. He stared at the closest archway for a second longer, then shrugged it off. He had too much on his mind to worry about the structure of the library. *His* library, technically, even though he hadn’t specifically claimed it. But then again, the library doors only seemed to open for *him*, sooo…. A flicker of movement caught his eye, and the old titan’s head turned to gaze in the direction. But there was *nothing*. Just him and the towering shelves upon shelves of scrolls. He opened his mouth to call out, but decided against it, and closed his mouth. It was just a trick of the eye. He was getting old, not being as young and spry as the gods. Not that he could age, exactly, but taking on an… *older* appearance did have a toll. Maybe. The longer he remained still, staring, the more unsettled he became. The more he expected something to pop out at him. But that was impossible, the library only allowed him inside. Scrolls, stacks upon stacks delicately set upon hundreds of shelves, only let *him* open them. Rolling his shoulders, John forced himself to move, padding deeper into the shelves, unsure of what he was looking for, but trusting his body to take him to it. There were oh so many scrolls, each filled with knowledge of before, of current, and what’s to-be. He stopped in front of an archway that lead to the section of the library about titans. Really? His body wanted to go *here*? Price already knew everything there was to know about Titans since he was a Titan. He blinked, and suddenly, the archway *changed*. What used to be sturdy, old oak was replaced with a gigantic spine looking to be fitting of a whale. But it looked to have less bones than a whale’s spine did, the bones a bit wider. This was no whale spine. This was a human spine, torn out of the back of someone big. The only thing powerful enough to be that big was a titan. He blinked again unconsciously, and the archway returned back to normal. … Was every archway like that, every pillar, filled with the bones of titans? He couldn’t reverse time to check, as that would cause chaos within the universe. But his eyes didn’t lie. *When the titans fell, did their bones just fall here?* He wondered, taking a step back from the archway, as if expecting the spirit of one of his old friends to pop out of the wood. But they didn’t, fortunately. That was just an irrational worry. That was something that could never happen. But he couldn’t stay here, not after he just saw the literal spine of one of his friends. Clearly, something *could* stay here, since John caught another glimpse of something moving. Was whatever- *who*ever that was, causing this? Was his mind playing tricks on him? "I know you’re there," He called out, body turning in a circle in an attempt to locate the source of the movement. "You need to come out. I won’t hurt you, but you shouldn’t be here."