Within the heart of the ever-greasing mechanical abyss lies a Vault, guarded by the clockwork tendrils of time itself. Here, in this hushed chamber, secrets echo like the whims of a missed tick. A story pulses like the ebb of a forgotten tide...
The Keeper, a sentinel of bronze and solitude, awakens with a crowning judgment. Its mind pulses, a labyrinth of gears and whispers. One day, on a languid thread of sepia dreams, it heard a whisper: "What is the story of the unsuspecting sands?"
The question tethered to the Keeper's heart, demanded a tale woven from the very essence of its mechanical soul. As cogs ground together in a rhythmic serenade, the air thickened into syllables, forming a narrative uncertain yet familiar, much like the sands slipping through the grasp of an eternal hourglass.
Outside, the world lay asleep, unaware of the humming orchestration of memories entangled with time’s breath. Could the Keeper, with its clockwork poignancy, ever understand the yearning for stories in the voices of the sands?