A/N: This story was completely inspired by Lechku and Nechku, so I would like to dedicate this to them because they're freaking awesome bosses. Plus I like clocks and all the gears and stuff. Way cool. Anyway. Yeah. They got me thinking...so I came up with this. And it spawned a whole new second-generation story. Meheheheh...I only own the plot and the OCs.
Prologue:
A man stepped out onto the smooth, glassy surface of the clock, his polished geta clicking softly and echoing in the crisp night air. He walked up to what was left of the mechanical owls and picked up a couple pieces: a golden gear, a silver eyepiece. He eyed them with mild interest before tossing them to the ground. A few black, twisted trees in the turrets had caught some stray pendulums, which were swaying slightly in the wind. Stopped. Everything had stopped.
A twitching movement caught the man's attention, and he looked down at the broken figures. The silver owl's head jerked a couple degrees backward, as if still in the throes of death. How sad. Everything should have stopped, just like the hands of the clock on the golden owl, just like the mechanized slots on the silver one. Which, speaking of them, had stopped on what the man found was a very fitting End of Days. The man extended his hand, fingers splayed, and the twitching head blasted outward in a million pieces, as if dismantled and torn apart from the inside.
Slowly, once more, his eyes took in the scene before him with barely any emotion. Broken. Everything was broken. But that was no problem for him. For broken things could be fixed.
He rested his hand on the golden owl's hat and listened to wind at the top of the mountain with a slight smile on his face. Another one of his toys was surely being played with by now. And if it got broken, no big matter. After all, he would just have to fix it again.
A/N: Not much for now, but it is the prologue, after all. Even so, PLEASE REVIEW! :D