Alone, behind glass, a Stranger silhouetted against the dim city lights presses his hand against the window. Rain, like a million uninvited thoughts, invades the city and cling to the pane dragging their slug lines behind them.

The dilapidated room is draped in darkness with only a lone, flickering light revealing its disorder. A projector screen reflects its roiling, snow white glow from the empty film projector that clicks and whirs in perpetuity.

The far wall of brick and decaying paint slowly ripples and opens up a small passage. Mysteriously, some emaciated little man hobbles out past the Stranger. He runs into the light of the room, and it blinds his mole-like eyes. He cries out in discomfort, but the cries turn into shrill laughter. Turning back toward the tunnel, he pushes the Stranger down on his way back into the void of the tunnel. The Stranger collects himself and chases after him, through the threshold, down the winding turns and inversions of the incomprehensible pathway. 

His pursuit terminates abruptly at a small chamber. He hunches over to get inside. The little man is already there with two other little men and they are as decrepit and harrowing as the first. Sitting in two small chairs next to an empty seat, they are fully wrapped and covered in chains. More chains lay on the ground by a third chair. The fugitive is still laughing, but the others don't pay attention to him. Instead, they stare at the back wall of the umber cavern where faint shadows from the projector room shimmer across the cracked surface.

The little man is bittered by his neglect and begins to pull on his companion’s restraints. Soon, they are all freed, and the little man gestures for them to follow and makes his way back towards the mouth of the passage. They do not move. As he turns to look back at them, one of the creatures picks up a chair and breaks it across its owner's back. The second creature grabs a broken piece of the wood and the two pummel the little man together in a fury of savagery. Strings of scarlet blood fly and decorate the cavern walls. 

The Stranger backs out cautiously, feeling his way through the pitch darkness. The sounds of the little creatures only get louder no matter which direction he chooses. Ahead of him a faint amber glow penetrates a crack in the earth. He pushes on it with all his might, and it gives way to a fiery chamber. As violent screams start echoing down the tunnel, he jumps inside.

Landing hard on a bistre, metallic grate, the intense heat of magma below exhausts him. Everywhere rusty, foreboding machinery surrounds him. Heavy chains above sway slowly and jets of steam hiss down at him. Monolithic gears tumble on the walls like the inside of some demonic clock. Behind, conveyor belts carry horses without skin along a row of troughs filled with broken glass. They look up from their meal with blank, pearl eyes. The catwalk leads him down to the edge of a towering cliff where the molten flow rushes down into a bottomless pit. 

Out across the abyss, the centerpiece of this world erupts from beneath. Multiple spiraling Coliseums reach downward, inhabited by countless pewter bodies that walk the span of the structure. Listlessly they wander around the rings. 

Another hissing sound forces the Stranger to turn around. Darkness from the tunnel seeps through the cracked entrance. It floats through the air like a ribbon and wraps around into a long empty robe that stands on the grate. The midnight gossamer encroaches on him, shimmering, hung heavy like lead. He swings at the shadow, but it absorbs his blows. It advances as inevitably as death itself. One last strike at its head knocks off the hood, only revealing a mirrored orb in place of a face. The orb stretches the Stranger’s frightened reflection and distorts it in long, anisotropic streaks. It pulls at him tighter and tighter. He feels the tension. He feels his very soul is being twisted and backs further toward the edge of the platform. The mesh of shadows lunges at him, and he falls screaming, into the abyss.