In the heart of Midgard Square, the Eternity Clocktower looms, an imposing symphony of obsidian steel and enchanted brass. Its colossal gears churn with a hypnotic rhythm, pulsing like a heartbeat through the veins of Grand Central Isle. Above, the clock face—an ethereal disk of blackened glass—shimmers with runic symbols, the glowing hands moving counter to the natural flow of time, a testament to the fractured truce of the Celestials.
At every hour, the Eternity Bell tolls with a haunting resonance, summoning citizens to prayer, protest, or penance, its sound said to echo in the souls of the guilty. Spiraling spires adorned with statues of the 13 races stretch skyward, their shadows writhing like living tendrils in the perpetual mist.
The tower stands as a paradox: a harbinger of order and chaos, a reminder that time is both a prison and a promise, its mechanical eye forever watching, forever judging.