_ _ _
The citadel was silent, except for the groan of ancient gears buried far beneath the stone. Safaa walked carefully through the dark chamber, her hand trailing along a cracked pillar covered in symbols — not written, but etched by time itself.
Behind her, Kairen entered slowly. His boots echoed on the marble floor. The once-sacred chamber smelled of brass and burning incense, long since forgotten.
"This place wasn't in any of the Cult's maps," Kairen muttered.
"Because it doesn't exist in the present," Safaa whispered.
She knelt before a rusted altar. Her fingers traced a carved emblem — the Watchmaker's sigil, altered. Twisted. More… alive. As if the symbol itself was breathing.
"What is this?" he asked.
Safaa didn't answer immediately. She pulled from her cloak a small clock-shaped pendant. It began to tick… for the first time in years.
"My mother called it the Clock of the Veiled Ones. She said it can reveal memories stolen by time itself."
Suddenly, the altar vibrated. Light escaped from the cracks. A sound, like a scream buried beneath metal and silence, erupted — then vanished.
The room changed.
The walls shimmered and reshaped. Kairen reached for his blade, but it turned to smoke in his hand.
---
🔮 A Vision Begins…
Safaa and Kairen stood in the middle of a dream — a city of clocks, hanging in the sky.
Time stood still. People walked backward. Bells rang in silence.
From above, a voice thundered:
"You were chosen by the One Who Ticks, but you follow shadows. Why?"
Kairen shouted back, "We didn't choose this path!"
The clocks turned black.
Safaa fell to her knees as a surge of memory invaded her mind — a memory of her mother binding her soul to something mechanical… something divine.
Her scream echoed in both realms.
---
🕯️ They Wake
Safaa gasped, snapping out of the vision. The room had returned, but the sigil on the altar was glowing now — red and gold.
Kairen, pale, stood silent. "I saw it," he whispered. "The Cathedral of Hours. It's… not a myth."
Safaa nodded.
"And the Watchmaker's Cult… we were never meant to follow him."
They turned to the sound of footsteps. A figure stepped out — robed, mechanical eye spinning like a compass.
"Welcome, Witnesses," the figure said. "The Trial of Time begins now."
---