THE HEADWIND OF TIME

Since that fateful night in the square, the city had been gripped by unease. Public clocks across the metropolis froze at exactly 3:17 AM — the very moment Rivo had activated the ancient seal hidden within his father’s old pocket watch.

No one knew that deep within the darkness, a slumbering time engine had awakened after centuries of dormancy.

Inside his tiny watch shop, Rivo had locked himself away for three days. He disassembled the pocket watch piece by piece, inspecting every gear, every gemstone embedded like watchful eyes peering into his soul. Every tick echoed through the room like the heartbeat of an ancient spirit rising within the metal.

“Horologium has found out,” said a voice behind the door. It was Lyn — an agent dispatched by the Academy of Chronos. She stepped inside with her hair tied high, her eyes cold as a winter lake. “They want the Core of Time. And if they get it… the world will rewind to the Era of Shift.”

Rivo didn’t look up. He continued turning an old silver screwdriver with precision. “I won’t let them touch it. Not again.”

“Then you have to leave the city. Tonight.”

On the night train departing Delvar City, Rivo and Lyn sat in Carriage No. 7 — the only one with a wall clock that told the wrong time. 11:09 PM, yet Rivo saw 1:45 AM. No one else noticed. For him, time was no longer linear. It cracked and flowed backwards like blood from an unhealed wound.

“Why does Horologium want to rewind time?” Rivo asked, still staring at the clock.

“For power,” Lyn replied. “They want to return to an era when humans hadn’t yet mastered time — when clocks were sacred, not merely tools to measure seconds. If they succeed, history will be rewritten. People like us… will cease to exist.”

Rivo nodded. He opened a small iron box and pulled out a bronze gear engraved with an eye and ancient runes. “My father once told me... time isn’t a river. It’s a labyrinth. And only a true clockmaker can find the exit.”

That night, as the train passed through the Black Fog Forest, time suddenly stopped for exactly three minutes. No one on the train noticed — except Rivo and Lyn. A small door creaked open at the end of the carriage. From it, a figure stepped in, cloaked in torn pieces of broken watches.

It had no face. Only a round clock for a head, ticking backward. The second hand leapt with unnatural precision.

“The last clockmaker,” it spoke in a language not of this world. “Give me the Core of Time… or suffer your father’s fate again.”

Rivo rose, eyes unwavering. “Who are you?”

“I am Chronovore — the Time Eater.”

The carriage plunged into darkness.

End of Part 2.