The night in Warsaw was particularly chilly. Maks sat by the light in the attic of an apartment building, hiding his fatigue behind a pile of sketchbooks. His third year of graphic design studies didn't leave much time for daydreaming, but that night Maks couldn't concentrate. Suddenly, the light flickered and a flashing purple streak cut across the city outside the window. Maks went to the window. He saw someone in a light cloak walking down the street, casting a shadow larger than a skyscraper. When he looked away, the watch on his hand stopped. At first he thought it had discharged, but when he looked at his phone screen, he was convinced that something was happening. In the street, the cars suddenly froze and the leaves stopped in mid-turn. Everything around him held still - except him. His heart began to beat faster. Maks cautiously stepped out into the stairwell, each step echoing in the dead silence. As he passed the glass door, a silver-haired girl looked at him from behind it. She was also moving. She smiled at him, as if she knew all about the fear he felt. "Welcome among the Winged Ones," she whispered through the glass. - "Time is your weapon. But remember: you are not the only one. And not everyone uses this power for good." Then a bang tore through the air. Something heavy crashed on the roof of the tenement, and the world, frozen in stillness, trembled as if it were about to collapse. Maks looked at the girl. Could he trust her? Should he run away or face an unknown threat? Little did he know that the real game was just beginning....