Though the Clockwork Man was hardly aware of the monumental change taking place up above, and throughout the tower, he was aware when the tower actually –moved- or as close to it as he could feel. The last of his foes in the coridoor was brutally dispatched with a blow that outright snapped his neck, and in his brief moment of respite the Automaton took stock of his own situation. Minor exterior damage, significant aesthetic damage (his jacket and trousers were punctured with holes, even his shirt!) and a seething irritation with the Angar-Rylla, a faction who threatened the one thing he wanted most in the world. The Nexus and its people had to be protected, which meant the Clockwork Man was a resistance fighter for now.

He was about to turn and regard Arty when without much notice one of the warriors from above appeared before them. He looked mildly impressed by their efforts, though he didn’t go as far as to actually compliment them.

“You’re wanted up above. It would seem you’ve proven your loyalty with the blood of our enemies.” 

“If only everyone were so trusting from such a trifling act.” The Clockwork Man replied, some of his old characteristic sarcasm filtering through to his words. “It would seem we get some explanations Arty.” They headed up, trusting in their new allies, but for how long?