The Three Turning Teeth
The ruin's corridor opens onto a circular chamber smelling of wet stone, old oil, and hot metal. A massive bronze-and-iron door fills the far wall, its surface embossed with interlocking gears whose teeth twitch by a fraction whenever the chamber's deep ticking changes pace. Three waist-high cranks stand beside it, each marked with a different-sized gear; amber light flickers behind a narrow inspection slot, and dust stirs at a floor vent with every heavy click.