In the silent embraces of the clockwork cathedral, where metal whispers to metal in the tongue of ancient machinery, eyes met eyes across the gulf of stillness.
A reflection, not of visage but of essence, unfolded in gilded segments, revealing truths deferred by the sands of ceaseless time. The gears were priests, the pendulum its sermon.
Do mirrors hold memories, or do they weave destinies anew with every passing glance? This question lingered, unanswered, amidst the tick and tock of immortal timekeepers.
Echoes • Machinations • Silent Journeys