[Author here. Just wanna say Thank you for checking out my new work and I hope you will enjoy this. This is my first real work so I will try my best!
and also I don't know how people support books in this platforms. I have heard about powerstones and stuff like that but yeah... Enjoy]
The realm was small, cradled by endless seas of shimmering mana, but alive with measured purpose.
On its single island lived the Metronias beings of clockwork bodies, each guided by the luminous ticking heart embedded in their chests.
Today, their capital streets thrummed with life.
Bronze artisans carved statues that glowed like captured sunrises.
Families drank bright-blue ManaJuice beneath the warm pulse of daylight.
Every step, every voice, every heartbeat fell into rhythm with the great Clocktower above the keeper of all lifespans.
And through this harmony, one person disturbed the pace.
Vex sprinted between the crowds, gears in his joints whirring with urgency.
Annoyed stares followed him until eyes landed on the rapid pulse of his chest-clock.
Fast-tickers didn't have long.
Everyone knew.
Sympathy replaced irritation.
He burst through a small rusted storefront. The bell chimed once.
"Frank! One Scraper quick!"
The old shopkeeper looked up, brass beard glinting like hammered gold.
"Vex," he chuckled, voice creaking like an old hinge, "your sculpture ready?"
"Almost. Can't believe I had time to finish it."
Words spilled out of Vex as fast as his seconds.
Frank slid the scaper across the counter. His gaze softened toward the frantic pulse beneath Vex's ribs.
"And Vivian?"
The smile dimmed from Vex's face.
"She's… handling it better than I am, actually."
Frank snorted and flicked Vex's forehead with an oily finger.
"Of course she is. My niece has a slow, steady heart. Stronger than yours, boy."
He tapped Vex's chest-clock gently one sharp tink echoing like fate.
"You're a sculptor, Vex. To carve beauty, you need calm hands and courage. You have both."
Vex swallowed. Then:
"I'm going to miss you, old man."
Frank's expression cracked, sorrow bleeding through then he smacked Vex lightly with the scraper on the desk.
"Go," he growled gruffly, "Finish your work. She's waiting."
Vex ran home.
His home was small just stone walls and ticking fireflies floating like lantern souls.
Their rhythmic hum soothed his racing gears as he uncovered his sculpture.
A creature not of this realm a Pegasus.
Wings of spiraled brass. Mane of silver thread.
A dream carved into metal and memory.
He worked in silence, tools clicking, fireflies glowing like stars in slow orbit.
When he stepped back
"It's done," he whispered, voice raw with pride and sorrow.
Then a knock.
He opened the door and Vivian nearly crashed into him, arms around his neck, breath warm and slow like her clock.
"It's finished?" she beamed.
"It is, Vivi."
She stared at the Pegasus, awe widening her pale-lens eyes.
"How did you imagine something like this?"
Vex laughed softly. "Too much imagination for a fast ticker, I guess."
Vivian's smile trembled. She took his hand warm brass in warm brass.
"I'll stay with you until the end, Vex. I'll love you through the last tick."
They laughed weakly, too close to breaking.
As they walked to the Cathedral, hand in hand, they spoke of first meetings, bad sculptures, midnight sketches everything that had ever mattered.
For once, Vex didn't run.
He walked slowly, as if trying to drag time with him.
The Cathedral doors opened like great clock-hands parting.
Inside: a vast hall of turning gears and softly chiming candles.
Families gathered around those whose clocks neared their final seconds.
Golden dust drifted from the ceiling like falling memories.
An old looking priest, dressed in white gears and silver lace, placed a gentle hand on Vex's shoulder.
"Death is not the end," he murmured. "It is the final chime in our symphony. Did you live your time well, child?"
Vex hesitated.
"I lost my parents so young… but Vivian gave me meaning. Gave me time worth spending."
Vivian's tear hit the floor like a soft chime.
The priest guided Vex to the center of a circular pit, lined with ancient gears turning slowly like the universe breathing.
He slid down beside others whose clocks pulsed toward zero.
He looked at Vivian. She looked back.
He closed his eyes.
His heart ticked
faster
And then
silence.
Around him, elders crumbled into dust peaceful, expected until only sand and stillness remained.
But he remained.
Breathing.
Alive.
Vivian stared, horror and awe frozen on her face.
Vex looked down.
The clock in his chest showed 00:01
and it did not move.
Not forward.
Not backward.
Not at all.
For the first time in Metronian history,
A Man outlived his time — and time would suffer for it.