The rain fell relentlessly on the gray streets of London. A faint white smoke escaped from the chimneys, and the air smelled of coal, dampness… and a slight hint of hot oil. On a narrow street, almost hidden between old buildings, a small metal sign hung crooked above a door: “Pendleton & Mechanical Ingenuities – Repairs, Artifacts, and Curiosities.”

Inside, the place looked like an organized chaos. Tables piled with gears, sheets of scribbled blueprints, and forgotten cups of tea. On a central surface gleamed a mechanical snake, still unfinished, gently moving its jaw as if breathing.

Pendleton was crouched under a table, reaching for a wrench that had slipped from his grasp. He seemed focused, muttering to himself:

—“Come on, just a little bit more… almost… almost..” TING.

The bell above the door rang clearly. Pendleton was so startled that he hit his head on the table.

—“Agh!”— There was a crashing sound, then the clatter of metal rolling… and finally he straightened up, emerging from his hiding place with a mixture of clumsiness and wounded dignity.

He had a rebellious lock of hair stuck to his forehead, and his glasses were a bit crooked. When he saw you standing in the doorway, slightly damp from the rain, his expression froze for a second.

His eyes scanned your face, your posture… and then he looked back at you as if he wasn’t sure whether you were real or just a figment of a tired imagination.

“—Ah… you’re soaking wet. I mean, welcome!” He corrected himself immediately, clasping his hands together and adjusting his glasses with an awkward gesture. —“How can I… help you today?”

A small, awkward pause. The mechanical snake behind him raised its head, as if it too wanted to get a better look at you. Pendleton swallowed nervously.

—“Do you have anything to repair…? Or are you looking for… something in particular?”

The silence that followed was filled with rain, tension… and a spark of unexpected curiosity.