In the shadow of the city’s clock towers, where time once moved in perfect synchronization with the city’s pulse, Clepsydra was born from the relentless march of seconds that have now become meaningless. As the world crumbled and humanity’s obsession with productivity faded into history, Clepsydra remained, a solemn reminder of time’s unyielding passage.

Their mentors were the broken gears of once-precise timepieces and the silent pendulums of grandfather clocks abandoned in stately homes. From them, Clepsydra learned to measure time not in hours or minutes but in memories lost and opportunities missed. They became the keeper of what once was, watching over the remains of a world that no longer values what it once chased so desperately.

Clepsydra’s skill lies in their ability to slow down the perception of time, to stretch moments into eternity or compress them into blinks. They carry with them the burden of every second that ticks away, but they do so with a sardonic grin, knowing full well that time, for all its power, has lost its meaning in a world where nothing remains to be late for.