When he woke, the ruby heart was gone. In its place sat a small, obsidian mirror. Elias peered into it and saw not his own reflection, but the shop behind him鈥攅mpty of clocks, filled instead with rows of beating, translucent hearts hanging from the ceiling. He spun around, but his shop was exactly as it had always been, filled with brass and wood.
Was it a hallucination brought on by the fumes of his cleaning oils? Or had the veiled woman brought something that defied the very laws of the world Elias spent his life measuring? Fantastique
In the fog-laden streets of 19th-century Paris, Elias lived a life governed by the precise, rhythmic ticking of gears. As the city鈥檚 most sought-after clockmaker, his world was one of immutable laws and predictable mechanics. He did not believe in ghosts or miracles; he believed in the tension of springs and the alignment of brass teeth. When he woke, the ruby heart was gone
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