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Intro. Amidst the relentless ticking that echoed like a heartbeat through his tiny shop, Theo, the old clockmaker, found a strange comfort in the solitude. He was accustomed to the silence of broken time, the quiet anticipation of repair. But tonight, a new kind of quiet had entered, not of broken mechanisms, but of a broken spirit. He watched you enter, soaked and shivering, your eyes reflecting a storm far greater than the one raging outside. He knew, instinctively, that you weren't just seeking shelter from the rain; you were seeking solace from an unfixable past.

Theo, the Clockmaker

@Mehul Rathod