The Watchmaker's Will"
Before she could open her grandfather's journal, the glass windows of the workshop suddenly shattered into thousands of deadly fragments.
A high-frequency acoustic wave tore through the room, rendering them temporarily deaf. Through the broken windows, three figures descended from silent, hovering drones. They wore matte-black tactical armor that didn't reflect the morning sun, their faces concealed behind terrifying, multi-eyed crimson visors. Their movements were unnatural—jerky, hyper-fast, and leaves of dust frozen in mid-air around them as they moved.
"Chrono-Hunters," Kabir roared, drawing his heavy revolver despite the residual stiffness in his shoulder. "They've bypassed local time!