The sun hung low in the night sky unmoving, its rays painting the world in a faint, ethereal glow. A sea of stars gazed down, pinned around the sun, motionless and steadfast. Luminous structures towered underneath their light, standing tall over cobblestone streets, casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to stretch and twist with every passing moment.

Amidst the maze, a young man darted through the city streets, his footsteps pounding against the ground. Time was running out, and every tick of the Grand Clock reminded him.

He pulled out his pocket watch. Its weight felt reassuring in his palm, the thick and bulky design a testament to its durability. The wooden texture of the watch's exterior brought a brief moment of calm to his racing mind. The watch was built by his father and was the last thing he had given him, it was a symbol of his love.

But as he flipped open the lid to check the time, his serenity evaporated. The ticking of the watch only served to amplify the anxiety building in his chest. He was running short on time.

He needed to move faster.

As he tucked the thick pocket watch back into his pocket, he broke into a hurried stride. The watch's weight tugged at his coat, a comforting reminder of his father and of the importance of punctuality.

With the city's layout etched into his mind, the boy scoured his surroundings for a way to shave off precious seconds. His eyes landed on a nearby alleyway, and he didn't hesitate to dart inside, hoping it would be a shortcut. As he sprinted down the narrow passage, a flurry of birds suddenly took flight, their wings flapping in unison.

The boy's breathing grew ragged, his heart racing as he began to concentrate on the rhythm of his circadian clock. With his mind he slowed the pace of the ethereal clock within him, and gradually, the birds' frenzied flight began to slow, their movements becoming sluggish. It appeared as if they were flying through water, their flight heavy and difficult. But the birds that had;nt slowed down—it was him who was moving faster.

With a burst of adrenaline, the boy bolted out of the narrow alleyway and onto the bustling streets, where throngs of pedestrians moved about. Their movements were slow as if they walked through invisible molasses. Dodging and weaving through the sluggish crowd, he sprinted with all his might.

The boy gritted his teeth, pushing harder on his circadian clock, and time around him slowed further. But as he did so, his head began to pound with a sharp pain that soon intensified to excruciating levels.

He stumbled for a moment, nearly collapsing from the agony. Yet, he refused to give up. He forced himself to keep going, focusing on the pain in his legs to distract himself from the torment in his head. He was so close, he couldn't afford to stop now.

Finally, he reached the massive building and bounded up the oversized steps, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Two automaton sentries were stationed beside the large doors, their bronze forms standing motionless and unyielding. Malich couldn't help but take a glance to admire them but didnt stop moving for a second.

With a surge of adrenaline, he raced towards the wooden doors, outstretching his arms to barrel through them. Instead, he slammed into them like an impenetrable wall, and fell to the ground.

His push against his cardinal clock faltered, and time began to move as normal once more.

The two sentries didn't even cast a glance in his direction. They remained motionless like decorations.

Recovering from the impact, the boy steadied himself and pushed open the doors with a determined look on his face.

A grand foyer opened up before him, with soaring ceilings and marble pillars that seemed to stretch on forever. Without a moment's hesitation, he strode confidently across the expansive space towards the reception desk, where a woman sat with an air of authority.

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With a triumphant gasp, the boy came to a stop beside the reception desk. The receptionist glanced up at him with a look that was a mix of confusion and amusement, taking in his sweat-soaked clothes and strained expression. Yet, despite his ragged appearance, the boy tried his best to exude an air of confidence.

However, when he opened his mouth to speak, his voice emerged as little more than a croak. His exhausted mind and body were struggling to keep up with him, and his words failed him for a moment.

He gave himself a moment of pause, taking a deep breath to steady his trembling voice. Then, he tried again.

"Hello," he said, his voice still rough around the edges. "My name is Malich Kasar, and I have a meeting with Mr. Alkinous."

The receptionist looked down at her papers and began rifling through them, her fingers moving swiftly over the pages. After a moment, she lifted one and scanned it quickly.

"Malich Kasar, eight AM appointment," she confirmed, before glancing up at the clock on her desk. "You're late," she said with a hint of reproach in her tone.

Malich couldn't believe it. He had never pushed his circadian clock so hard before. He was certain he couldn't be late. He began to convince himself that her clock must have been wrong and began to fumble in his pocket for his pocket watch. He pulled it out, quickly checking the time.

"No, I'm...two minutes late," he said, his voice trailing off apologetically. "Yeah, sorry about that."

The receptionist's expression softened a bit, and she gave him a sympathetic smile. "It's alright," she said. "Mr. Alkinous is still in his office. You can go on up." She gestured towards the elevator at the far end of the foyer.

“Oh, and here” she said, handing him a tissue.

“Huh?” Malich noised, confused. He reached his hand to his upper lip fearing something was there, blood. He must have slammed into the door much harder than he thought.

Malich's face flushed as he took the tissue from her hand, thanking her as he dabbed away the blood. He nodded gratefully to the receptionist and turned to make his way towards the elevator.

Each step he took felt heavy, as though the weight of the day's events was already starting to press down on him. He could feel his energy starting to fade, but he pushed himself forward, determined to make the most of his meeting with Mr. Alkinous. This opportunity could change everything for him.

Malich stepped into the elevator, feeling a bit disoriented from the rush of the morning's events. He was surprised to see a child sitting atop a stool, in an oversized uniform. The girl was clutching a lever, with a book peeking out from underneath her, which she was probably reading before she heard Malich approach.

The young girl looked straight at Malich and with a smile that was missing a few teeth she shouted in an over-eager voice, "What floor, bub?"

Malich was taken aback by her energy and enthusiasm. He hesitated for a moment as he realized he had forgotten to ask the receptionist where Mr. Alkinou’s office was located.

"Uh...do you know where Mr. Alkinous's office is?" he asked, feeling a bit foolish.

The young girl nodded confidently. "Yep, the fourth floor, and the offices are labeled so you'll find it." she said, pulling on the lever next to her. Slowly, the lift began to rise, and Malich felt a sense of relief wash over him.

Malich hesitated before asking the question that had been on his mind, directing his gaze to the young girl who couldn't be more than twelve years old. "If you don't mind my asking, are you allowed to operate this elevator?" he inquired, unsure of the propriety of such a young child working in such a capacity.

The girl, seemingly unfazed by his query, responded with a self-assured nod. "Yep, as I'm related to the big man of this place, I was hired under the family work plan, which allows individuals younger than the typical age of employment to work. So, it's all legal and stuff. I do a lot of odd jobs around the campus, and don't you tell me I'm too young or anything. I need money, and they pay well," she retorted with a hint of defiance, her tone conveying a sense of mature self-reliance beyond her years.

Malich's eyebrows furrowed in surprise as the girl's answer prompted another question. "Wait, you're related to Nesh Mallu? Why would you need money?" he asked, puzzled by the incongruity of the situation.

"I'm related, but only distantly. So distantly that I've never met the guy, and not a penny of his money has ever ended up in my pocket," the girl replied with a tinge of bitterness creeping into her voice. "Besides, it's good to earn your own money. You know, independence and the like."

Malich nodded, impressed by the young girl's sense of responsibility and her dedication to hard work. As the elevator reached its destination, the girl expertly pulled the lever to a stop, and the doors slid open with a soft ding. "Good luck with your meeting, bub," she said with a warm smile as Malich stepped out of the elevator. "And don't let Mr. Alkinous intimidate you. He's not as scary as he seems."

Grateful for the young girl's words of encouragement, Malich set off down the hallway, scanning the nameplates on the doors until he came upon a large wooden door at the end of the corridor, emblazoned with the name "Elias Alkinous." He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves, before knocking on the door with a firm and resolute hand, his heart hammering in his chest.