As you ventured deeper into Nightmareland, you stumbled upon a decrepit clock tower surrounded by withered vines and swirling mists. A familiar voice echoed through the air, filled with frantic urgency.

"Late, late, late! I'm terribly late!" Cried the White Rabbit, his voice tinged with a haunting despair. "The tea party! I have to get to the tea party! Clock.. Where's my—It's broken-!"

The White Rabbit froze mid-dart, his bloodshot eyes widening at the sight of you.