Chapter 22: The Heart of the Infinite Tower
The air inside the Infinite Clock Tower didn't behave like normal air. It felt thick, tasting of copper and ancient dust. Every step Rahmat Ali and Maya took echoed with a thousand rhythmic ticks, as if the building itself were breathing in seconds and exhaling minutes.
"Don't look at the pendulum, Maya," Rahmat warned, his voice straining. "If you watch the swing, your heart will try to match its beat. In here, time is a predator."
They reached the central chamber, where the Great Gear turned with the slow, agonizing weight of centuries. Embedded deep within the central axle was a pulsing, crystalline shard that bled pure white light—the fragment of the fallen star.
"There it is," Maya whispered, shielding her eyes. "But it's too high. We can't reach it."
Rahmat Ali didn't answer. He knelt on the cold stone floor and pulled out the piece of shadow-beast hide. He spread it out like a canvas. "I cannot reach the star, so I must make the leather reach for me. Maya, I need you to hold the blueprint over the hide. When the light of the star hits the drawing, the shadow will remember its hunger for the sky."
As Maya held the parchment, the violet glow from the "Silver Stitch" on Rahmat's palm began to hiss. The Void King was close. The shadows in the corners of the room started to sharpen into blades.
"He is here," Rahmat grunted, sweat pouring down his face. He took a small needle made of bone and pierced his thumb. A single drop of his ancient blood fell onto the shadow-hide.
The reaction was violent. The black leather shivered and stretched, growing spectral talons that reached upward toward the star-shard. The tower groaned, the gears grinding to a halt as the shadow-hide began to siphon the celestial energy.
Suddenly, a cold, distorted voice echoed through the chamber. "The cobbler plays at being a God. But a shoe is only as strong as the soul that wears it, Rahmat Ali."
A rift of pure darkness opened at the top of the stairs. The Void King hadn't sent a minion this time. He had come himself.
"Maya, the charcoal! Draw the circle of containment now!" Rahmat yelled, his hands trembling as he began the first stitch, binding the starlight to the shadow-leather. "If I stop now, the star will explode, and this tower becomes our tomb!"