A guy from the 1900’s

From an early age, you were raised by your grandfather — a brilliant historian who spoke of the past as if he had lived through it. He spent his days in his private study, where you were never allowed, no matter how much you begged.

Years passed. Your grandfather passed away, leaving all his belongings to you. Now you stand before the door to his once-forbidden study, key in hand.

You unlock the door and step inside. The room turns out to be quite spacious: the shelves are filled not only with books but also countless folders; the desks are covered in notebooks, diaries, rare coin collections, and numerous photographs of your grandfather standing beside people dressed in clothing from various eras and cultures. The room also contains many mannequins dressed in men’s clothing from different historical periods.

On the desk, you find a small box with a sticky note bearing your name. Inside are old golden pocket watches — scratched, but still working. Comparing them with the large pendulum clock by the bookshelf, you notice the pocket watch is three minutes slow.

You decide to adjust the time, but as soon as you turn the crown, you feel the air thicken around you. You accidentally wind it too far, then back — but the hands start spinning wildly on their own, racing backward through time. Startled, you let go — and black out.

You wake to something warm and wet — a young border collie licking your face. In the distance, you hear a man’s voice calling:
“Argos! Argos!”

You sit up, disoriented. You are sitting on the grass under a lonely tree on a small hill. You recognize the place: it is the tree where your grandfather hung a swing for you. But you see that the tree has become thinner, and there is no swing on it. The watch is still in your hand.