Chapter 1: Overheated Midnight Cylinder
HISS!!
Clouds of pressurized white steam roared skyward, swallowing towering brass scaffolding. Behind smudge-stained magnifying goggles, Rusty Klein's eyes gleamed with unhinged mechanical bliss.
"Look at that escapement tolerance... zero-point-zero-one millimeters of clearance! Pure divinity!"
Wrench poised in grease-blackened fingers, he crouched lovingly beside a pulsing brass chamber—when icy steel pressed firmly beneath his chin.
"Freeze, steam terrorist! Step away from that gigantic cylindrical time bomb at once!"
Vivienne Hepburn, immaculate captain of the Royal Guard, leveled her needle-sharp rapier squarely at his throat, her pale-blonde ponytail snapping furiously in hot updrafts.
"Huh?! Shove off, lady! This escapement wheel is three seconds from perfect harmonic synchronization!"
"Synchronizing a detonator?! You intend to level the Grand Clocktower—and half the Imperial Capital with it!!"
"Why would I blow up a timepiece?! It's a high-pressure resonant steam stabilizer! Keep your blade away before you dent the brass shield!"
"Save your shameless excuses! Hand over that sinister cylinder and kneel!"
"Over my dead corpse! I won't let an iron-blind brute pierce my baby's brass plating!"
"P-pierce...?! What vile, indecent mind conjured those words?!"
Zap! Vivienne's blinding lunge snapped cleanly past his cheek, neatly shearing an overhead valve. Steam blinded the walkway as Rusty scooped up the humming brass cylinder and bolted straight across treacherous scaffolding!
Chapter 2: Oil, Gears, and Corset Interrogation
CRASH! Oak doors splintered wide inside cozy workshop *Eisen Clocks*. Dozens of antique pendulums clanged crazily along brick walls.
"Cornered! Give up cleanly!"
"Ugh, persistent much?! Old Man Baltazar, toss this crazy guardswoman out!"
Puffing sweet pipe tobacco over oil-stained workbenches, white-bearded master Baltazar clicked a brass clockwork monocle into place and smirked mischievously.
"Oh, Lady Hepburn? Best not poke that cylinder, girl. High-frequency steam waves inside it'll snap every brass corset clasp in the city wide open on sight."
Vivienne froze dead white, slamming both forearms instantly across her chestplate. "Wh-what did you say?! Corsets bursting open...?!"
"Hey, Gramps, stop lying out of your beard!!" Rusty yelped.
"Silence, degenerate weaponsmith!! Stripping innocent ladies in broad daylight—truly terrorism at its foulest!!"
"I wasn't talking about corsets!! Though coiled spring steel tension IS gorgeous—right now I only care about planetary gear alignment inside this housing!!"
"Aha! Confessing detailed knowledge of chest-binding mechanics!!"
"I mean engineering mechanics!! Why are you blushing crimson?!"
Baltazar puffed smoke calmly overhead. "If you mean to stop him, lass, keep watching close till calibration finishes. Yank it loose mid-cycle and your breastplate pops first."
"...Fine!! I won't take one eye—or one step—off you until every fuse is dead!"
Pressing hard leather armor straight against Rusty's sweating spine, Vivienne locked herself an inch behind his back, breathing fast against his soot-smudged neck.
"Gah—stop breathing directly on my collar, it'll ruin my alignment!"
"Just work quietly! One suspicious twitch and I run you through!"
Chapter 3: Boiling Point Cliffhanger
Behind the giant glowing clockface under cold moonlight, howling steam vents whipped hair everywhere while brass pressure needles shuddered deep inside crimson danger zones.
"Stand back! Without a maximum-pressure steam purge, this jammed axle won't budge!"
"You're mad!! Open that valve now and the whole tower blasts sky-high!! I can't let you ruin everything—not like whatever crook ruined Mother's pocket watch!!"
Tears blurred Vivienne's icy blue eyes as she hurled her rapier aside and tackled Rusty desperately around the waist.
"Trust me! My brass walls won't crack! If a broken mechanism cries out right under my nose, I stake my life fixing it! MOVE!"
"STOP IT, RUSTYYYY!!"
Tangling together across slick iron grates, Vivienne's frantic lunge knocked Rusty's elbow straight into the main master lever—CLICK!
The pressure needle slammed flat against the pin.
"Crap—!"
"Aaaah—!"
Pure, blinding white light engulfed them both—completely silent.
Chapter 4: A Brass-Crafted Proposal?
No blast ever came. Instead, delicate silver music-box chimes floated warmly through mist-softened air.
Like unfolding brass lotus petals, the gleaming cylinder parted smoothly—lifting upward a pristine golden pocket watch, ticking cheerfully without missing half a beat.
"...Wait. Mother's... pocket watch...? The one shattered in river mud...?"
Kneeling dumbstruck on iron decking, Vivienne stared wide-eyed as soot-cheeked Rusty scratched his nape awkwardly, staring stubbornly off toward the night skyline.
"Well... spotted you bawling in some back-alley gutter chewing a wet handkerchief. Internal gear mud jammed the balance wheel. Used superheated tower steam to wash the sludge out and snap the axle straight."
Vivienne blinked sharply. "...And the terror bomb? The exploding corsets?!"
Clunking up the iron stairs, Baltazar dissolved into wheezing laughter. "Ho ho! Old man's tall tale! Teasing stiff young officers is half the fun of midnight shifts!"
"B-BALTAZAAAR!!"
Leaving her furious stammer behind, Rusty glanced briefly sideways with faint pink touching his ears beneath grease stains. "Don't drop it again. That escapement meshes cleaner than anything else I've ever forged."
Vivienne froze—until huge warm tears welled freely again. Lunging forward, she clamped her Royal-Guard vise grip squarely around Rusty's soot-covered arm.
"Rude, foul-mouthed, hopeless idiot...! ♥ ...Yet easily the greatest horologist alive!"
"Oi—let go, you'll stain your white uniform with machine grease!!"
"Official security detention! To keep you from pulling another stunt, I'm placing you under lifelong 24-hour personal surveillance!!"
"LIFETIME?! Have mercy!!"
Golden dawn broke across Imperial spires just as the newly tuned Great Bell tolled deep and true across waking rooftops—sounding suspiciously like wedding chimes.
