The Clockmaker's Enigma

Rain lashed against the grimy windowpane of Elias' workshop, mimicking the tempest raging within him. Gears and springs lay scattered across his workbench, their intricate beauty now a mocking reminder of the clock he couldn't fix. It wasn't just any clock; it was his grandfather's legacy, a magnificent automaton depicting the celestial dance of the planets. And it had inexplicably stopped ticking. Elias ran a calloused hand through his silver hair, frustration twisting his gut. He'd meticulously checked every cog, every spring, every escapement, but nothing seemed amiss. The clock was perfectly assembled, yet stubbornly inert. It was as if time itself had chosen to ignore this intricate masterpiece. A knock on the door startled him from his musings. He opened it to find Amelia, his neighbour and childhood friend, her face etched with concern.