The Clockwork Destiny
The fog of London in 1888 was a living thing, a grey beast that swallowed the gaslights and muffled the screams of the East End. Julian sat in his workshop, surrounded by the rhythmic ticking of a thousand clocks. He was a man of brass and bone, his left arm a masterpiece of clockwork engineering, his eyes replaced by precision lenses that could see the flow of causality. Julian had discovered...
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