The town of Evershade had forgotten how to breathe.
A thin mist lay like a shroud over its cobbled streets, curling around lamp posts and whispering against the windows of houses that never seemed fully awake. Every house looked like it was holding a secret. And maybe they were—Evershade was known for having more questions than people.
At exactly 3:03 a.m., the century-old clocktowerin the center of town ticked once… then went silent.
Inside the tower, a girl in a pale blue dress stood barefoot on the rusted iron floor, her eyes locked on the motionless clock hands. She was twelve, maybe thirteen, but her expression had the wisdom of someone who'd lived too many lives. Her name? No one knew—not even her.
Pinned to her chest was a single piece of paper.
Written in elegant, spidery handwriting:
"Do not trust time. It lies better than humans."
Across town, **Dr. Eliah Vane**, a neuroscientist turned private investigator, woke from a dream he couldn't remember. His apartment was filled with ticking—clocks of all sizes covered the walls. But one had stopped.
The oldest one.
The one that had belonged to his sister.
The same sister who went missing ""exactly seventeen years ago"".
And now the ticking had stopped.
Eliah pulled on his coat and checked the message that had arrived an hour before.
Unknown Number:
"The girl is awake. And she remembers the first lie."
"Come to Evershade before 4:00 a.m., or everything resets."
Meanwhile, outside the town limits, someone watched the tower from afar through a cracked pair of binoculars. A black notebook rested in their lap. On the first page, there were names. Many were crossed out.
But at the bottom, only one name was written in fresh ink:
Dr. Eliah Vane.
And beneath it, in red:
"Final Player. The game begins again."