1EINT. THE ORGAN – THE GEARS – CONTINUOUS1E

Gear teeth the size of doors. Three corridors under three wrong suns; a fourth way goes down into the dark.

Down each corridor, the same festival: mirrored, then perfectly even, then pencil and wire. In each, the same GARÐAR.

GARÐAR: I'll need the stage widened.

KLÓI goes first with the lantern. A NESSA comes too.

KLÓI: Stay behind me. Three-count.

NESSA: I can count.

Three, then two, then half. Miss, and a thread unspools from his coat.

FURTHER DOWN, by the count, by METRONOME, or TAKE THE LIFT. PULL BACK climbs back up.