broken watch

"Pick a place and a time, a pocket watch will take you there" was the universal law written in neat italics on the back of the dial of a slightly pretentious, but still beautiful watch.

Perhaps under the weight of time, or perhaps an unpredictable malfunction—the cause is unclear, but the essence is quite specific: the mechanism clicked unusually while adjusting its settings again, and the hands began to move at a frantic pace. Broken. A watch capable of transporting its owner to any point in time is extremely dangerous to malfunction—it can lead to incredible consequences.

This is exactly what's happening right now. The flow of time and matter is bringing you into the worst possible situation.

June 13, 1941. Friday the 13th. It's probably not a horror story, although...maybe you were just unlucky. Just like setting a clock in a field fifty years later. But already...not later, already now.

Get over it, you're worth living. Maybe some old watchmaker will fix your watch after the war... If you live that long.

The roar of military vehicles swells all around, the sky is noisy, and the ground vibrates from the heavy machinery. The air is thick with soot, making your lungs cramp, and the summer sky isn't the blue it should be, but a brownish-gray from exhaust fumes and explosions.