The Misty Forest always hid more than it showed to the eyes of ordinary people. Dense streaks evaporated over the mosses, and trees seemed to stand closer together as one walked along the path. At the heart of these mysteries lived the watchmaker Mr Loston - no one knew where he came from or how old he was. It was said in the village that whoever crossed his threshold would never look at a clock the same way again. Anka, a thirteen-year-old with a storm of red hair and a constant hunger for adventure, was sure the rumours were exaggerated. She was always accompanied by Kuba, who knew all the forest legends by heart, and Lena - quiet but extremely bright. That morning, when the clocks throughout the village began to go backwards, stop and ring alarmingly without pause, everyone knew who they had to go to. As the fog fell thicker than usual, the three friends stood in front of the wooden door of a small hut. On the door, instead of a handle, hung a pendulum clock with a dial that flowed like water. Kuba reached out his hand, wanting to touch the unreal clock, but Lena stopped him: - Something is not right here. Look, the hands go back faster when we look. Anka drew her eye closer and. in the face of the clock she saw the reflection not of herself, but of an unknown girl in a long cloak. They were snapped out of their shock by a voice from behind the door: - Time waits for no one. But today... she can make an exception. The door opened of its own accord. Inside was Mr Loston, smiling enigmatically, surrounded by whirring cogs and translucent clocks. On the table was an old, dusty key. In front of it was drawn a symbol - an infinity entwined with a fern leaf. - Who among you is ready for a journey from which it is impossible to return in the same way? - He asked slowly, gesturing for them to come inside. The friends looked at each other, feeling time around them start to take strange shapes and reality become less and less obvious....