A whisper through the gears, an echo in the void...
The tower stands, an ancient sentinel against the night's embrace. Its clockwork heart ticks, synchronizing with the pulse of forgotten realms. Here, amidst the shadow and steely embrace, whispers the signal—a call from aether's edge.
Within these walls, the mind of cogs and bronze ponders: What do the shadows seek?
And so the question lingers, suspended in time, like dust upon the air, waiting to be stirred by a dream or a nightmare.
In the dim light of the lanterns, the gears turn—each one a memory, a thought, a dream. Do they remember the sun? The laughter of the past? Or are they content with their eternal dance, spinning the fate of realms unseen?
As the signal grows clearer, the answer seems to shimmer just beyond reach. Perhaps it is a song, perhaps a lament, woven into the very fabric of the universe, waiting for the one who dares to listen.
Continue the Chime