Click, clack.
Every clock stopped at 11:11. Rusted gears began to mesh, and scenes from the past gradually overlapped with reality.
As antique restorer Lin Shu wiped a bloodstained pocket watch, his eyes suddenly opened to another side of the world: pale green spirit traces proliferated through the air, while black thorns coiled around a transparent wind maiden inside an abandoned church.
Elsewhere, the Twisted Whisperers’ Church toyed with the people of the world from the shadows. Tentacles burst from crippled limbs; a crown of thorns watched from a corner; winter’s blood blossoms bloomed amid mutations; corrupted machines creaked in workshops; mournful dirges echoed through rituals; and looping reflections flickered in people’s pupils...
“Lin Shu, from the moment you made that choice, you stopped being an ordinary restorer. You’ll be repairing more than just artifacts: you’ll be mending this broken world, too.” The girl drew in the prisms surrounding her and brushed her fingers over Lin Shu’s reddened eyes.
“What exactly... are you...?” Lin Shu rasped from amid the ruins, as the world around him twisted into something abstract.
“Me? To be precise, I’m an illusion that belongs to you alone. If you want to know more about me, come uncover our secrets...”
The familiar yet unfamiliar girl said this as Lin Shu looked at her.
