The moment they stepped in, it felt like they had crossed into another world. The dusty, ruined exterior didn’t match the beauty within. The floor beneath their feet was polished marble, smooth and clean. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above them, casting golden light across the hallway. Grand paintings decorated the walls, showing scenes of towns, forests, and most strangely clocks.
The mansion was silent, yet it felt alive.
As they walked deeper inside, they noticed the furniture: long velvet sofas, tall bookshelves filled with ancient books, glass cabinets holding silver objects, and tall mirrors that reflected more than just their images.
But there was no one else there.
No servants. No voices. No movement.
It was as if time had paused here too except for the ticking sound coming from somewhere deeper in the mansion.
Waseem approached a large painting on the wall. It showed a man with sharp green eyes, a calm expression, and a silver pocket watch in his hand. The detail in the artwork was so fine, it almost looked like the man was watching them.
Beneath the painting were the words:
“The Watcher of Time”
Look, Ayaan pointed. “Every painting in this hallway it’s the same man.”
He was right. In one painting, the man stood before a tower in another, he was beside a group of frozen townspeople in another, he held the glowing watch up to the sky. No matter the setting, he always had that mysterious watch.
Suddenly, a soft tick-tick-tick filled the air. They looked at each other finally, a clue.
They followed the sound through the hall and found a small, circular room. In the center was a massive grandfather clock, tall and made of dark wood. Unlike the clocks in the town, this one was still working.Beside it, resting on a small wooden table, was a folded note.
Waseem picked it up and read aloud:
“You are close. Find the Watcher before time forgets you too.”
A chill ran down Ayaan’s spine. “What does it mean… before time forgets us’?
Before Waseem could answer, a sudden sound made them both jump footsteps, slow and steady, coming from above.
They looked up at the grand staircase twisting along the wall. Someone was there.Without a word, they rushed up the steps, hearts pounding. The footsteps had stopped. At the end of the upper hallway, they found a door slightly open.
Waseem reached out and pushed it. It creaked open slowly.
Inside was a dark room filled with clocks of all sizes grandfather clocks, wall clocks, pocket watches all ticking together in strange rhythm. The sound was overwhelming.In the center of the room sat a man on a wooden chair, wrapped in a deep green robe. His white beard hung low on his chest. In his hand, he held the same glowing silver pocket watch from the paintings.
The man looked up. His green eyes sparkled as he spoke.
You’re finally here, he said, his voice deep and calm. I’ve been waiting.
Waseem and Ayaan stood frozen.
“Who are you?” Ayaan asked.
The man smiled faintly. “I am the Watcher of Time—the guardian of balance. And you… you were never supposed to find this place. But now that you have, everything is about to change.”
