The Chronometer of the Common Man

The back wall of the workshop is dominated by a massive brass clock face, ten feet in diameter, though it lacks traditional hands. Instead, three concentric brass rings rotate independently around a central hub shaped like a sleeping sun. The air is heavy with the scent of ozone and machine oil, and a constant, low-frequency hum vibrates through the floorboards. Engraved across the rings are symbols of city life and celestial bodies, their polished surfaces reflecting the flickering candlelight of the basement room.