Edward Elric Pocket Watch Novels & Stories

We walked to my workshop and Ray put Scott’s watch on the velvet pad. The watch face had a silhouette of a soldier standing proudly in the center of a St. George’s cross. I smiled, “That is perfect. I reached to my opposite side and picked up the band. I attached it to the watch and Ray gasped, “This couldn’t have worked more perfectly. This watch is a masterpiece.” Theodore smiled, “You should read the engraving.”

Lucas walked over to the scarlet clock that was incomplete and had weird carvings on it. He made a wild guess that it was the Eastern Royalty Clock. The Rank 9 King Kong, Rank 9 Undead Skeletal Heavy Swordsman, and Rank 9 Mad Ox Dark Race had not managed to move the scarlet clock by even an inch. Ding… "A fragment of the Ten Legendary Weapons, the Eastern Royalty Clock, has been detected. Please retrieve it."

He opened the safe. Inside, next to the passports and the deed, was a small velvet box. He took it out. He opened it. It wasn't a ring. They already had rings. It was a watch. A vintage mechanical watch. Silver. Analog. With gears you could see through the face. Cale listened to it. Tick. Tick. Tick. It wasn't a countdown. It was just... time. Moving forward. One second at a time. "Linear," Cale whispered. He closed the box. He put it in his pocket.

For now, she lived in a world where everything was safe and whole. That night, after Elaine had fallen asleep with her arms loosely wrapped around her stuffed toy, Ellena sat alone at her desk. The quiet of the room pressed in on her, broken only by the faint ticking of the clock. She turned the pen in her fingers, its weight oddly comforting. The paint on its surface had worn away in places, revealing the smooth metal beneath. It looked like something that had been handled often cherished, even. This was something Edward treasured. The fact that he had sent it back… it had to mean he was alive. Safe, at least for now.

I don’t have much time to lose. “I think we only have ten minutes left. Good luck, Natalia,” Edward said as he looked at the luxurious watch on his left wrist. “Would it kill you to lift your hips up a little?” I asked sarcastically. “Don’t wanna…” Edward said as he pouted a little. “What do you want?” I asked. --To be continued...

The gate guards stepped forward immediately. “I’m here to pick something up for Edward,” I said calmly. The guard frowned. “Edward is dead. What else does he need?” I didn’t blink. “Something important. Something that has to be buried with him. Maybe his favorite jacket or watch. I don’t know. It’s what he requested before he—” I let the sentence trail off. The guards exchanged a look. One of them sighed and opened the gate. “Fifteen minutes. That’s all.”

' Raymond whispered to Edward, not taking his eyes off the guards, who now looked even more panicked when they learned that the drones were still moving despite being hit multiple times. 'The old man who attacked you at that time. Remember?' Edward replied. 'Oh. So, that's the feature you mentioned earlier? Bulletproof?' Edward shook his head. 'Wrong. Too expensive if I make a bullet-proof feature.' 'Then?' Edward pulled a binocular from his jacket pocket. 'Look with this.'

What… what did she just say? My hand instinctively reached inside the hidden fold of my inner tunic, where my mother’s old silver pocket watch rested… always near me, always a tether to something I didn’t understand but felt every time it ticked against my heart. I drew it out. The moment the pocket watch came into view, its metal catching the stage lights, the tablet in Elaris’s hand glowed brighter, pulsing in sync with the watch. I stared. I barely felt the applause. I didn’t hear the murmurs, the shifting of robes, the envy, or the awe pressing in on all sides of me.

And though his state of surprise had faded, he was still very much interested in what he was seeing. “And this,” Cronos pointed at the clock in his chest before taking a small pause. “Well, you know what this is, don’t you?” Cronos smirked and Mane nodded his head. The grey clock that reeked of time and ticked several seconds into minutes and minutes into seconds was one that Mane had never seen before. Yet he didn’t need to be told what it was. “The Clock of Eternity,” Mane croaked, his voice patchy and broken like a man who had known no food nor wine for decades.

"Arthur Blackstone was carved from ice. Grandfather’s perfect heir. Ruthless. Demanding. Emotion was… weakness. A flaw to be excised." He took a shuddering breath, his eyes still glued to the floor. "He had a pocket watch. Solid platinum. Cold. Heavy." Damien’s own hand instinctively went to his vest pocket, where he usually kept his own, a modern, sleek piece. "He’d tap it. On the desk. On the dinner table. “Tick. Tick. Tick.” Every second accounted for. Every minute is measured against productivity, against achievement, against the Blackwood standard." His voice gained a haunted quality.