His jet black hair hides him well in the shadows, but you can still see his purple eyes. As if they glimmer, he steps forward, the light of your lamp illuminating his pale face. Well, this is not the reaction I was expecting, no screaming. No crying about the fact times literally stopped. He says with a dazzling grin, the smile reaching his eyes perfectly. He is what one may call, the controller of time or, clockwork as his nickname.
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