You awoke in the café, steam curling from your untouched cup. The key still glowed faintly in your hand. The barista smiled as if nothing had happened.
"Welcome back. Same tea?"
In the window's reflection, your eyes met your own — steady, calm, but for just a moment, a pendant glimmered faintly at your throat before fading away.
A note waited beneath the key:
"When the thirteenth chime comes again, listen for the cat."
When the clock began its thirteenth chime, the sound wasn't metallic but alive — a hum that stirred the air. Steam from your cup spiraled toward the ceiling, forming words in the condensation:
Door's open.
You followed the glow to a hidden storage door. Beyond it was a vast chamber filled with clocks — hundreds, all ticking at different speeds. In the center, a pedestal bore a nameplate: Nibs.
The key floated from your hand and clicked into the lock. One by one, every clock aligned, ticking together in harmony. The thirteenth chime echoed again — not eerie this time, but beautiful.
"Every traveler leaves a mark," the unseen voice said. "Yours was time itself."
And then, silence.