By Israfel Sivad

In a disheveled castle-like, warehouse of a factory on the outskirts of a distant city, the creator fused soul with mechanism, thought with fusion, spark and fuse. Days and nights and days again – seven days, seven weeks, seven months, seven years, seven decades, seven centuries (if one could live so long – though, that was the point – to infinity) made no difference. Some things have to be completed.

It had been like a dream building that machine – the goal of an eternal ...