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Still, it was a concern for another day. The Magician remained focused on the enormous golden tower in front of him.

According to his estimations, the Hour's current project would not yet be ready to take its next step for another month of gestation. That was just how slow the Hour processed materials these days. It seemed to have gotten worse over years, which was making Xander increasingly concerned for its well-being, but no matter how many times he went over it with a fine-tooth comb, he could never find anything wrong with it.

No signs of physical degradation. No issues with the weaving of its ardor.

At this point, he could only imagine that it must have been some kind of psychological issue. But how in the world was one supposed to diagnose such a thing? Much less treat it?

Sadly, there was no such thing as a therapist for Fusion Forges.

And he'd checked.

Xander had spent considerable time visiting various archivers around the world, hoping for some kind of answer to this problem.

Hence why he was now at a point of exhausted resignation. Honestly, he felt more commiseratory for the Hour than frustrated by it. There was no doubt in his mind that it, too, was saddened by the current state of its creative process.

So what were these noises it was making now?

Low, slow reverberations. Making the whole chamber vibrate.

But not violently. Just... consistently. Repeatedly. Warmly?

Hmm. It was difficult to tell without touching it directly, but again, he had to be careful here. He had to ensure it was fully aware of his presence, first.

This ancient thing. It had been through so much. Seen so much. And despite its rather lackluster speed, it had indeed seen nearly constant usage for the last several hundred years.

In that way, it was unique among Forges. Historically speaking, they tended to die quite early, due to the attention they drew. Once they started truly pumping out great works at a good pace, the world at large tended to notice quickly. And then all hell would break loose until, one way or another, they were destroyed.

But not the Hour. No. It was a very old man still playing a young man's game.

And thinking about it like that did lend it an extra degree of reverence from Xander.

Perhaps speed wasn't everything.

Heh. And perhaps he should tell it that. See how it reacted.