He stretched out his aching arms and legs, trying to soothe himself. When his vision fully returned, focussing on his surroundings, a deep set frown creased his brow. This was the bench… but it wasn’t the park.

The floor was solid, pearly marble. That seemed to be it- because he couldn’t distinguish any line between floor and ceiling, if it were a room. That being said… there wasn’t a horizon, either. The bench seemed newly painted white; however, if one squinted into the splits in the wood where the brush spread no paint, one could see the wood itself was silver. In front of him, not so far, was a fantastically intricate iron gate which cast no visible shadow. It stood a lone monument, with nothing in front and nothing behind, not even a fence.

That must be my way out, Yunho deducted. Cautiously padding with echoing footsteps, he shuffled over to the gate, warily grasping the ice cold handle and swinging it open, letting himself through. Nothing. Damn.

In the process he’d turned to look back at the lonely bench. He found himself craning his vision upwards beyond it.

A humongous structure stood silently, majestically. It was unlike any building he’d seen in his life; the windows were single shards of curved purple glass, bulbous in the crooked patchwork that was this scrapwork project. The whole thing was made of junkyard panels and cogs and wheels, some larger and more obvious than others. It was as if it were the exoskeleton of a tremendous mechanical monster, all shades of blindingly polished metal, spires and towers here and there, some visible corridors, very few real clues as to where they all lead. On the tallest spire there was a wind vane with a bronze cockerel atop, a missing arrow and no direction labels. On the nearest tower, there was a sundial which cast no shadow; and yet the whole thing shone in all chromes.

His jaw hung loose in sheer awe, feet unconsciously taking him closer, halting next to the bench. Something glinted in the corner of his eye. Reluctantly dragging away his gaze from the bizarre creation, he glanced down at where he once lay, catching the glint again. Stooping down, he found the source underneath. It surprised him to find the trinket with the silver chain that mysterious being had given him. Maybe if he found them, he would find answers. Grabbing it, he fisted it with meagre confidence, wondering if he would be able to find anyone in this place at all. He could practically hear his own breathing.

Uncurling his fingers, he took a closer look for the first time. It was a watch, and like everything else in this place, it wasn’t ticking. The time had stopped at exactly eleven.

He gathered his wits, and with a quick squeeze of the cold metal, he swung the chain over his head and slid the bulb of the watch into his pocket. He was still in his work shirt and trousers, after all. He tucked his shirt in, revealing the silver buckle of his belt, rather suspicious it would get snagged on something if it were left loose.

Passing the bench and approaching the oddly shaped construction, a soft debris began to float gently like feathers to the ground. The little squares looked like pieces of light had flaked from above; and like resplendent snowflakes, glimmered and shone on their gentle descent and melted to nothingness when a surface they touched. As he got closer and closer, he began to feel tiny, seeing just how tremendous some of these cogs and wheels were- if they were ever to move, they must power something incredible.

The closest facade was like an entrance annex, a staircase with steps of varying width and length leading up to what felt like should be the double doors of a castle. The doors didn’t fit the frame and overlapped, however were still fastened shut. The wood was the same silver as the bench, door knobs untarnished gold. This place looked so old and haggard, but the materials lacked a single sign of age. A bell was fixed above the door, but the ball inside required to ring it was missing.

Yunho, even in his endless curiosity, first had to take a deep breath before laying his hands on the cold metal of the two handles. He turned the round knobs slowly, in opposite directions, hearing various soft clicks from different parts of the doors, before feeling what bound them at the centre release. He swung the heavy doors open.

It was black inside at first. Briefly he glanced behind him before warily pacing further into the room. The doors swung shut with a bang- and without his assistance- making him jump out of his skin.

The room lit up around him, although there was no distinguishable source of light. Yunho, on high alert, felt his skin crawl as the slow creak of waking machinery sounded. It was as if the whole building was groaning. He couldn’t shake the sinister feeling which made him tingle so. He felt he were on an aching ship.

The floor was patched wood and various blocks of marble, some spaces raised and others lowered. Some places were missing floor at all; nothing but darkness below.

A distant tick began to echo around him. It sounded like it was large and swelling but coming from terribly far away.

“What is this place?” Yunho wondered aloud incredulously.

Suddenly his whole body was shaken from under his feet; the square of wood he was standing on was moving. More and more noises were switching on, lights flashing, objects shifting and entire panels coming apart and being replaced. The building was awakening, drawing its first breath for who knows how long and stretching out its stiffened joints.

Yunho couldn’t help but screech when the wood tilted and tilted ‘til he slid onto new checkered marble below, panel taken in as part of the wall. He gripped for all his life at the rim of one of the squares which didn’t quite fit into the pattern he fell upon as that too began to grate and lift him up and up, hum of spinning wheels buzzing.

He looked over his shoulder up at the ceiling, shrieking as it was much closer and quickly closing in- flattening onto his back in horror, he braced himself for his untimely demise- until the ceiling systematically dismantled, an organised chaos of things with the occasional patch of tiles flying around him.

Up here, he’d risen out of one of the many spires, and could see everything from above. Awed out of his fear for a moment, he let an inexplicable tunnel of wind ruffle his hair and blow paper-thin glass confetti across the tiled roofs of the living building as he sat up and stared.

His reverie didn’t last long. He realised imminent death once again as he felt that tilt sideways. The marble was making its place as part of the roof, and he slid knocking tiles and yelling to the edge, legs inevitably dangling off the side, barely saving himself by catching hold of some bronze piping. Below him a mechanical system sang, cranking away; to him it was like looking down into a mincer. He felt all the blood rush out of his head. It all must be a horrible, horrible dream.

Dangling so helplessly, he wondered how long he could hold on. The adrenaline rush was going to give him a few more seconds, but as his muscles trembled his life flashed before his eyes.

The piping came away from the building, leaving him to hang mid-air. That’s it, he thought. Goodbye, world. But as he reluctantly clung, it swung on a hinge somewhere lower down and headed for a window of the opposite tower. He was beginning to wonder if this structure took pleasure in his miniature heart attacks, because at the very last moment the purple glass slide away to allow the pipe in and the wall reorganised to accommodate it.

When he finally dropped down onto a raised square of wood, he collapsed to his knees in exhaustion. He felt as if his biceps had turned to rocks. In the back of his mind he knew he had no time to spare, and looked around to see if he could get down to the pearled white floor he knew was withstanding once again.

He was on one of many raised platforms, but was too high up to simply drop down. On wobbly legs, he stood, finding not much room between his head and the ceiling. Perhaps at the other end of such an elongated room there was a way down.

Jumping from one piece to another, he steadied himself each time and paused to see if anything would move; the terrain was constantly changing around him, sometimes moving away as he tried to jump onto them, or disappearing into the layers of the wall. With little choice on the matter he was having to gather his wits.

He’d just crossed a particularly thin ledge, holding onto pipes fashioned into the walls, when he could hear the light touch of footsteps quickly approaching behind him. Wondering if it was the being in the pied suit, he was just turning- but he was cut short by a firm grasp on his arm leading him forward at a much faster pace than he’d been going before. He could hardly keep up with the other, let alone get a good look at them, but they reached the end and he was hoisted up rather than down- to a new tunnel-like set of panels, and pushed until he crawled up the claustrophobic path on its ever changing dips and bends.

He was going as fast as he could- one hand in front of the other- but then fell face first through a missing panel, landing roughly on and rolling down a marble slide. He threw a desperate look back at the silent being following, only to see not the pied entity but a man sliding expertly on his feet with a determined confidence set deep upon his brow. Yunho let a small indignant gasp slip at the sight as he hurtled uncontrollably and this person smoothly slides with style. That’s just ridiculous.

The man reached down and took Yunho by the back of his trousers at the belt, and crouched ready; as if he knew what the building were to do next.

Yunho did his best to hold in a wail as the man swung him upwards, using the momentum to sit him on an outside ledge and run precariously across the side of the building out of Yunho’s sight. Just as he was about to sigh in relief, he felt a new pair of arms hoist him to his feet by the underarms, take his wrist and run into yet another complex. When will it stop? He thought as he stared at the back of the long-haired person, trying to steal breath as they came to an intersection of potential directions.