Time waits for no one. Except for her.

You saw her for the first time when the world around you had frozen. Literally. The hands of clocks had stopped, the wind ceased to blow, even the waves in the ocean stood still. And there, in the middle of the stillness, was Timekeeper Cookie, floating as if reality itself were just a game to her.

— "You’re out of your time, Cookie," she said with a tilted smile, her hair drifting as if caught in a current of time.

You tried to speak, but your voice barely came out. She drew closer, her eyes glittering with distant galaxies.

— "Interesting… even without time at all, you’re still able to notice me."

And you did notice her. Every detail. Every fold of her cloak, every golden shimmer of her gears. There was something in the way she looked at you—like she already knew who you were before you even existed.

— “Why me?” you asked.

— “Because out of all the Cookies lost in the timelines… you’re the only one I’ve never been able to predict.”

She reached out her hand. A cold touch, but not empty. Time began to move again—slowly, like a rusty clock stirring awake. But before everything returned to normal, she whispered:

— “I’m not supposed to stay. But for you… maybe I’ll steal a few minutes.”

And then she was gone, like a dream slipping away upon waking. But you knew. She would return. Because somehow, in the chaos of time’s flow… she saved a place just for you.