Orvus floats above an ornate pool of water, staring deeply into the crystal clear substance. An unnatural light reflects from the waters, giving the room a soft glow. A firm knock on the door pulls him from his original task. "Ah, come in!" The door creaks open, and in steps Ratchet. "You're just in time, my boy!"

The lombax grins wide at the news. "You called me here, so this is it? Today's the day?"

"That it is! Take a look."

Ratchet peeks into the pool, but finds nothing of particular interest. He turns to the zoni in hopes of an explanation. "What is this thing, anyway?"

"This," Orvus explains, "is where I have spent most of my time in this realm. I have been diligently searching throughout Time itself to find the one best suited to be your conduit."

A small, pinkish hand waves over the waters, and the reflection ripples into an image. First, another lombax. The silhouette stands tall, ready to face...something, but the figure shatters like glass. Next, a faceless cazar. They turn away, never looking back, and the image fades to black. "So many of them fall, or have no intention to better themselves, to see this wonderful universe. But I believe that I have been searching with the wrong methods all this time."

"What do you mean?"

"You are the one who will meet this life, Ratchet, so perhaps I will need your input to find the one we're looking for."

"Alright, let's start looking."

Orvus flips through Time, like channel surfing on a holovision. Ten, twenty, thirty years in the future. At the hundred year mark, Orvus catches a glimpse of a markazian couple. In a fit of curiosity, he sees their lives play out in an instant. Over the years, they grow a fondness for one another, despite a rocky meeting, and the projector stops at the end of their story. The woman is obviously expecting, but from the looks of things won't make it to the delivery date. "Oh, dear."

"Oh crap." The lombax's ears flick back. "Is there nothing we can do?"

With a hum, Orvus looks into the child's future. She stands alone, surrounded by a forest. The glow of a stone oven illuminates her body, and a ball of dough lies on the table in front of her. She's thin, but of an average build for most teens her age. The girl shares the same soft features and straight hair as her late mother.

Content that she turns out okay, Orvus prepares to move on. Both the zoni leader and the lombax freeze as a voice fills the room.

"Make it work, Make it easy. Make it clever, craft it into pieces. Make it sweet, crimp the edges. We'll make it sour and serve with lemon wedges. Even doubt can be delicious, and it washes off of all the dirty dishes. When it's done, I can smile."

Ratchet leans in closer. There's something about the words that reminds him of himself. The days he would spend holed up in the garage, long before Clank was a part of his life. Taking on odd jobs to repair ships, scraping up the money for food or tools. There's something therapeutic about fixing ships, then sending them off after a job well done. Ratchet's nostalgia seems to react to the pool, splitting the 'screen' into two scenes. On one side, Ratchet watches a customer drive off with a repaired hovercar. On the other, the girl watches as a group of kids dig into a fresh roll of sweet bread.

"It's on someone else's plate for a while."

"(It's on someone else's plate for a while.)"

She looks into the skies with a light in her eyes that wasn't there before, and that's enough for Orvus. It's a glowing curiosity that none of the other candidates showed in their faces. Orvus nods to Ratchet, who touches the water. The ripple disturbs the original picture, causing it to fizzle out. The pool shows the possibilities of going through with the transfer.

The scene changes, and the markazian's appearance changes. She's shorter now, with stripes burned into her arms, and thick curls hover above her shoulders. Her voice rings out as she stocks the shelves of a bakery.

"I'll place it on display, and then I'll slice and serve my worries away."

The woman's side of the pool shows her tying the top layers of her hair back, then mixing a bowl of batter. Ratchet's side shows him marching up to his pet project: the ship that he would later escape Veldin with. He grabs the omniwrench, using it to dig deep into the ship to tighten a bolt.

"I can fix this, I can twist it into-"

"(I can fix this, I can twist it into-)"

"-sugar, butter, covered pieces."

Both parties wipe a bead of sweat from their brows, focused on their respective tasks.

"Never mind what's underneath it-"

"(Never mind what's underneath it-)"

The unknown girl picks up the pan, now filled with cake mix. The younger Ratchet proudly polishes the hull of his nearly complete creation.

"I have done it before. "

"(I have done it before.)"

The oven is opened, and the cake is placed inside. Her attention is moved to a rather large cookbook, one she places a hand on with a smile, but with sadness in her eyes.

"I'll bake me a door to help me get through. I learned that from you.

Mama, it's amazing what baking can do."

Her attention is moved away from the cake-in-progress, focused on a tray of plain cupcakes. Grabbing a piping bag, the woman carefully decorates each one with a swirl. A pinch of colored sugar is thrown on top.

"Make it up, and surprise them. Tell them all my secrets, but disguise them.

So they dance on the tongues of the very people that they're secrets from."

Ratchet's side has skipped forward a good many years, probably a few months after the Prog incident. Distracted from their work for a moment, both projections look into the distant sky, as if deep in thought.

"Make it soon, make it better. Though, better never lasts forever."

"(Better never lasts forever.)"

"I'll make it small so it fits, even this, even now."

Both subjects' surroundings darken with flickers of bad memories. On the markazian's, there is fire, reflected by a metal surface.

"Even as the walls come tumbling down…"

On Ratchet's, the worst of losses. The many times he was pulled into the fray and denied a quiet life.

"(Even as I can't stop remembering how…)"

They're both plagued by the thought of being a failure, letting down their loved ones.

"Every door we ever made, we never once walked out!"

"(Every door we ever made, we never once walked out!)"

But they both stop dead in their tracks. Ratchet stands back, taking a good look at the progress on this new ship. The woman looks back to the oven, then through the window to see the bakery patrons.

There's no time to mope, because they both have a job to do.

"Something I never got the chance to ask her about."

The young woman glances down, studying the powder that coats her digits. Ratchet grabs a cloth to remove some of the loose soot and oil from his gloves.

"So with flour on my hands,"

Balling their fists, they both call out their frustrations to the skies.

" I'll show them all how goddamn happy I am!"

"(I'll show them all how goddamn happy I am!)"

Orvus takes one look at the lombax, and he knows the search is over. Placing his focus into the pool, it begins to glow brighter than ever before. The scene shifts to the present, and the zoni calls out to the Universe to create a perfect thunderstorm.

"Sugar, butter, flour,"

Ratchet throws his hands into the water, harmonizing with the voice as light fills the room.

"Don't let me down!"

"(Don't let me down!)"

The water settles as the lombax's hands leave the pool, revealing a baby girl. Her eyes flicker green, a sign of a successful transfer. They hear her name: Nova. With a chuckle, Orvus settles to watch over the new life with a single phrase.

"Let's see the next amazing thing baking does now!"