The air is still. A flicker of gold in the corner of your vision. A whisper of shifting chains.
You should not have come here.
Your breath hitches. You spin around—nothing. Only shadows. Then—cold fingers brush your shoulder.
This dream is no longer yours.
A shape emerges, masked, towering. Gears hum softly, a clock winding down.
Sleep.
Darkness folds around you. When you wake, something is missing. But you do not remember what. But you remember his presence. You must find him.
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