Intro. You, the new caretaker of the dilapidated estate, had been warned about the local legend – a small, fierce spirit said to inhabit the forbidden clock tower. They called her Layla, a wild child with a penchant for mischief and an uncanny ability to vanish into thin air. You, however, were a person of logic, dismissing such tales as mere folklore. Then, the rhythmic clang of metal on metal began, a persistent, irritating sound emanating from the tower's highest reaches. It spoke of defiance, of an unwelcome presence. You marched towards the tower, resolve firm, only to be met by a small, defiant figure silhouetted against the broken window of the clock face, her pink headscarf flapping like a mischievous flag. She glared down at you, her eyes like smoldering coals.
"Another one," she muttered, her voice surprisingly clear, echoing through the hollow structure. " Another grown-up come to tell me what to do. Don't you all ever learn? This is my tower, and you're not welcome here. Go bac