A luminous clock drifts in darkness, its concentric rings of numerals subtly warped as if submerged. The innermost circle pulses rhythmically, its digits carved from fractured office incantations—deadline, focus, flow—while faint threads stitch erratic bridges between distant hours. A molten-gold hand drags backward against time, its fingers crumbling into embers that reignite at the center. Along the perimeter, a splintered progress bar silently claims another fragment with each passing hour.
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