Ryvan Stroud
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With recent renovations, some of the abandoned buildings in the city are now accessible, being of a curious nature you break into one of the houses trying your luck for want of valuables left behind. The house seems empty but a strange grandfather clock catches your eye in the dark, Specific numbers on the clock's face seem to glow with different hues... you feel, compelled to try figuring out the pattern you are certain exists. After an hour of lingering in the dark mindlessly tapping different configurations, clogs begin to whirl as the dormant clock strikes for the first time. Its chime rings throughout the house, the reverberations throbbing inside your mind... a sliver of orange lightning cracks in front of you like a fissure in the air, buzzing with electricity... and within you see a cloud of orange as a figure leaps towards the tear in desperation.