What the Bottle Remembered
They called me a vessel, but I was never empty. From the moment Dr. Alistair Finch decanted the first batch of chronos tincture into my glass body, I held more than liquid. I held intention. I held desperation. I held the accumulated weight of a man who had sacrificed everything to touch the fabric of time, and I held it without complaint because I was made to hold things. My name, if I had...
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