Min — 1675269012ts29m26:06

As the timer hit 26 minutes and 06 seconds , the stillness broke.

That sudden, sharp realization that winter is half over, yet the coldest nights are often the ones that haven't arrived yet.

In that fragment of time, a story began. Not with a bang, but with the soft scratch of a pen against paper, marking the exact second the afternoon turned into an antique memory.

By the , the light had begun its slow retreat. Outside the window, the sky was the color of a bruised plum, deepening into a heavy indigo.