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Elias didn’t know who had built the Clock, only that it had been there since the world went silent. It stood three hundred feet tall, shimmering like a desert heat mirage against the violet sky of the "Old Salt"—the dried remains of what used to be the Mediterranean Sea.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a physical watch—a relic of his grandfather’s. Its hands had rusted in place decades ago, frozen at 12:04. He compared the stillness of his hand to the looming, frantic pace of the horizon. cio8y-kbhq9.mp4

The air grew heavy with static. The violet sky turned a deep, bruised indigo. Elias held his breath, not out of fear, but out of a desperate curiosity. Elias didn’t know who had built the Clock,