Returning to Constantin, she gazed thoughtfully at Sophia.

“There’s always time… How strange.”

Guides never loved time, unlike the Ephors. For them, time passed just as quickly as it did for people. They had to work diligently every second, because every moment their charge made choices that shifted the direction of their life.

The kaleidoscope of events spun relentlessly, even at night. While people slept, guides implanted thoughts and perceptions that they would wake up to. This was why sleep specialists had struggled for years to understand why the structure and routine of sleep often changed. If a guide was anxious and couldn’t separate their feelings from those of their charge, the person suffered from insomnia. This was destructive for both the guide and the charge.

At night, people’s thoughts became clearer, free from external distractions. They had space to contemplate the bigger picture and engage in philosophy. But this also created a risk of existential crises and a reevaluation of personal values.

Time became an eternal shepherd, always pushing forward. And while for the Ephors, time flowed steadily and clearly, for both people and guides, it was chaotic and unpredictable.

Libby recalled how Constantin’s watch had fallen off his wrist. The treacherous strap had lost its strength, just like his patience. But in that moment, it was so clear that he didn’t need to glance at his wrist, searching for an excuse to relax artificially or to find that precious free hour. After all, people who move toward their goals at a leisurely pace are always beautiful; it’s all about dignity.

“Looking at the clock is just a pleasant way to kill time,” wrote a famous author.

And it’s no wonder. His guide was also Kallidus, who infused him with inspiration but couldn’t keep up with the frantic pace of time.

Libby realized this when Constantin picked up his wristwatch from the floor. The tear in the strap mirrored his internal struggle. For a moment, harmony was restored. Even in his workshop, the clock on the wall began to tick chaotically. It had every right to do so.

Right now, Elizabeth had as much time as the rationality of her charge allowed. And every minute was priceless.

She stood nearby, just far enough to avoid hearing their conversation, but close enough to feel the vibrations from her charge. She had been trained to quickly make contact with Ephors, but they hadn’t taught her delicacy. This made things difficult for Kallidus. She constantly felt the urge to eavesdrop, to understand why her charge's aura began to glow every time he saw Sophia.

Although Libby already knew the answer, it was one that disheartened her. It was jealousy, like a sister’s toward a brother, as if she were visible – and Constantin could “trade” her away. Silly.

Trying to keep herself together, Libby turned away from the couple. The feeling of being the third wheel wouldn’t leave her. But that was the job of a Guide: You can look, but you can’t touch. Like being in a zoo.

Her attention shifted to the couple with ice cream. More specifically, to their Guides. It was always amusing to observe how complete energetic opposites were forced to interact for the common good, nurturing certain skills in their charges.

Her gaze involuntarily drifted to Lombask. Throughout their time here, he had never once relaxed his posture. While Nomadum constantly lounged, throwing his legs on the table and sprawling in the chair next to his charge, Lombask stood behind his "pet" like a bodyguard.