There were rules in the Shop. He didn't have access to everything in history. If it was well and truly destroyed it was just that. However with the right circumstances and the right, or wrong people depending on your view, people about or not, things that were lost did inevitably find their way into the shop. This wasn't a surprise to Myrios. After Ages in the "business," he was used to things appearing. Or not as the case may be. There was only so much physical storage space in the storeroom. If the true inventory of what was stored in the shops was laid out in the physical storeroom it would most likely crack the crust of the planet. Thankfully this was not the case. Often things found their way into the shop that he had no idea about. Not until it was time to put them on the shelves to be sold. It was a slow day for the Shopkeeper and he decided to take a walk through the storeroom. There was nothing like walking through the miscellaneous trash and treasure of several Ages of history to grab his curiosity. When he opened the heavy oaken door beside the counter the dimensional energies would have assaulted anyone close enough. Myrios simply strolled through and made his way through the shelves. He glanced through as he walked. Various bits and bobs, clutter, and priceless artifacts sat jumbled on the overloaded shelves. They were overloaded in appearance only. The physical shelves could have held much more but it was more the symbolism of the thing that mattered. People expected a storeroom in such an establishment. Something to tell them that yes, this was indeed a store. See, there's a room devoted to storing things. It made it very store-like in his opinion. The Shop tended to agree with him. (edited) As the indeterminate seconds passed in the room, he looked more to the side. There was something new that had grabbed his attention. He veered from the drive aisle and took a sharp left, cutting through shelves covered in lawn equipment from various times throughout history. Past the shelves packed with sporting equipment and well past the aisle that held mostly weaponry and armor he came to a strange section that he wasn't entirely familiar with.
This puzzled the shopkeeper. There had been shelves in nest rows all the way down to the Heart. He'd made sure of it. He'd spent a long..however, you'd measure time in a place that it didn't normally pass, making sure it looked like a proper Shop storeroom. Off to the side were large pieces of equipment. Equipment that was somehow familiar. A slow, smile spread across his face, tainted by a sort of sadness as he closed the distance.
The equipment had been rebuilt and improved upon over months and years. Whatever the opinion of the final product, Myrios had always considered the inventions to be a work of art. Everything that Doc built had been a miracle. These had been no different.
He remembered the say these had gone online or a distant ancestor of this final product. He paused in his thoughts. It was the 'final' part of that statement that bothered him. It had been the man's final work.
His looking at these devices now brought a sharp pang of sadness to him and he jerked his hand back from the device as if he'd been burnt. That would have been ridiculous for Myrios but these were all recent emotions and he had a hard time processing some of the more stressful ones.
He picked up the control board, clear crystalline wires hanging from the plug. He remembered the first time he'd turned the things on. The silly man thought he'd seen everything until it refused to work for him. He'd been the first that Doc had come to aside from the three that came with him. It was his first devoted experience with humanity. That was eight years ago. Or was it? It was hard to tell for him. Linear time had very little meaning to him and had to check outside quite frequently to ensure that it was actually the proper time of day. He pushed the old, familiar buttons and smiled a bit more to himself. He leaned against the large tower and fiddled with switches and sliders and thought back to the years doing this thing that he surprisingly loved so much. The feeling of belonging that it brought. He wasn't that sinister shopkeeper when he was out there. He simply entertained and learned how better to be part of humanity.
The sadness returned when he took a step and turned to look over the practically arcane machinery. If it was here then that meant that it had been lost, forgotten, and shuffled to the back room of most people's minds. It was a brief flash in reality and then the magic was gone. Humanity lived such mercurial lives that they couldn't hold onto things for too long. They only had so long in their lives and so many things to experience in this world. For him, these were his favorite times. For someone with all of history behind him, this brief flash was what made the most difference to him. This shining, magical time when he's found love and lost it. Found the love of his life and been married. He'd made friends and defeated evils. He's traveled back in time, on purpose, to rescue that same love. This was the most magical time and looking at these devices meant that some of the magic had left the world. He nodded to himself, wiping what should've been a year from his eye but he decided not to. No particular reason why just didn't want to. He made a decision. He looked at the devices and looked at the distance to the store and decided that it was too great. He had no super strength. He decided on another course of action.
He left the anima transmitters and the control boards where they were and set to his workshop.
It didn't take him long before the small intricately designed silver box was ready. It didn't need to be complex. It didn't need to be showy or elaborate. It just needed to be big enough.
He stalked back through the storeroom until he reached the wall that the large equipment sat next to. Almost as if it had been placed there on purpose.
His hand ghosts over the equipment on the way past. He takes in the feel of the carbon materials and the lines. He feels the nick where Blues had dropped his coffee mug. Or the dent in the side where Doc's frustration had borne itself until the moment the light went on and he figured it out. There was a lot of history here and he was sad that it was gone. His hand goes to the wall and he pours his energy into it. His face became haggard and worn. Perhaps one of the few times that he looked and felt exhausted. As his energy faded there was a door in its place. An average-looking white door with a friendly-looking knob. He opened the door and looked inside. It would do.
He sets the box in the middle of the room and puts the last bit of his energy into it and walked out, leaning heavily against the door when he left.
He knew what the room would look like before he'd opened the door. He'd made the device himself. Though there were some...incidental details that he hadn't intended but no one was perfect. The room was larger than most in the shop. Taller with a skylight taking up most of the ceiling. There were empty walls and various things that he'd need. The equipment wasn't going to die; lost and forgotten to collect dust in the storeroom. He owed it to him to make use of it. Perhaps in some way, he was alive through his action. Gone but not forgotten. Not by him. He'd ask for help later, moving the equipment. Perhaps even find a DJ or two. If not, he'd be there, being his dumb self for everyone to enjoy, for a few hours at least. It's the best any of them could ask for and more than most would be given. - End