Rickysroom 24 09 28 Connie Perignon Ivy Lebelle... Here

A portal opened above the clock, a swirling whirl of light and shadow. From within, a silhouette stepped forward: a man with wild silver hair, eyes like polished copper, and a coat stained with oil. It was Rick Morrow, alive and bewildered.

“Ricky!” Ivy gasped, tears spilling over her cheeks. RickysRoom 24 09 28 Connie Perignon Ivy Lebelle...

Connie visited the exhibit every month, often staying after the crowds left. She’d sit on the bench beside the clock, run her fingers over the cold brass of the key—now a relic of a night when time itself bent to a promise—and smile. A portal opened above the clock, a swirling

Rick looked around, his gaze falling on Connie. “You found the key,” he said, his voice hoarse with gratitude. “You’ve saved more than me—you've saved every moment we thought was lost.” The vortex pulsed, and Rick gestured toward the portal. “There’s one more thing,” he said, pointing to a faint silhouette on the other side—a young woman in a lab coat, her face partially obscured. “Ivy, the research you left behind—your work on temporal resonance—it’s still inside the Confluence. If we leave it, it will be lost forever.” “Ricky

The vortex roared, the colors intensified, and a flash of white light enveloped the room. When the light dimmed, the portal collapsed, sealing shut. The clock’s hands settled at —the exact moment they had begun.