Home for Horny Monsters - Book 9
Copyright© 2026 by Annabelle Hawthorne
Chapter 6: Exit Light
Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 6: Exit Light - When a mysterious sleeping sickness begins to spread across the country, Mike and the household get caught in the middle. Yet turning to magic might rouse worse entities than the slumbering victims...Will Mike and the powerful women by his side only awaken more nocturnal terrors than they can conquer? Welcome to your worst nightmare. Expect the Unexpected.
Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Mult Consensual Romantic BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Fairy Tale Horror Humor Paranormal Ghost Magic Vampires Demons Harem Polygamy/Polyamory Anal Sex Cream Pie Exhibitionism Masturbation Oral Sex Sex Toys Size Violence
Mike had his fingers steepled together in contemplation as he studied the board in front of him. Numerous figurines, each one familiar to him, were spread across the grass painted tiles beneath him. An insidious fog surrounded all of them, seeping off the edges of the table like a phantom waterfall.
“What do I do?” he mused out loud. All around the edges of the board, several unpainted statues had appeared, each one of them a humanoid figure caught in various, tortured poses.
His family was trapped. He was trapped. There would be no escape.
Narrowing his gaze, he looked up at the figure standing across the board from him. The options were limited, but a plan had formed. “My bard plays his harmonica and casts Countercharm.”
Bigfoot grunted his approval. “This will grant the party advantage on their rolls against the mysterious fear effect coming from the fog.” He looked over at Callisto. “You’re up.”
Callisto grinned, and picked up his dice. “My centaur Paladin actually has a double advantage due to racial feats.”
Bigfoot shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”
They were sitting in the gazebo with a game board set out before them. Yuki was off to Mike’s right, casually providing the illusory magic that helped bring the game to life. To Mike’s left was Callisto in his centaur form, followed by Nima.
Though Cassie had given Callisto her trophy, today was the day the tournament was originally scheduled. To help the boy keep his mind off of it, they had tried to schedule a playdate with Cassie. Sadly, a couple of her siblings had caught whatever cold was going around, so that had been cancelled.
With no other ideas off the top of his head, somehow, they had ended up playing a makeshift version of DnD. Callisto had invited Nima along, who leaned on his gnarled staff and studied the board with sincere interest.
“Can you funnel any of those guys together?” he asked, indicating one cluster of ghouls.
“Um...” Callisto looked at his miniature, then up at Bigfoot. “Can I?”
The sasquatch grinned. “Sounds like something you need to roll for. But last I checked, you need to see if you can break free of the terror fog.”
“Right.” Callisto picked up the dice and rolled it. “Does a 15 do it?”
“Yep.”
“Cool. I’m going to run in this direction and channel divinity to turn undead.”
Bigfoot grunted in disapproval. “Is that all?”
“Hold on.” Callisto moved his piece into a group of ghouls and then raised his hands pleadingly toward the roof of the gazebo, where his sister was hanging around. “I call upon the divine might of my god, the lord of the forest, HugeFeet the Magnificent, to fill these beings with the dread of his wrath.”
“You forgot your holy symbol,” Nima offered.
“Right.” Callisto lifted the pendant he was wearing around his neck. It was, in fact, a bronze foot. Mike had no idea where his son had acquired such a thing on short notice, but suspected Tink had helped. “Hear his mighty footsteps and flee!”
“You guys are just feeding Bigfoot’s ego,” Mike said.
“Quality roleplay is its own reward,” Bigfoot replied.
“Is that why you keep giving them bonus rolls?” Mike asked.
“I’m rewarding good storytelling.” Bigfoot’s lip curled into a grin. “You’re still just mad about that incident with the zombie giant.”
“My spell should have hit.”
Bigfoot shrugged. “Maybe it would have if someone had been willing to actually sing the lyrics of his song of wrath.”
Yuki elbowed Mike. “I was really hoping you would,” she added. “Along with that dance you described.”
“The one Callisto described for me.” Mike narrowed his eyes on his son. “I see what this is. It’s a shakedown. Let’s all pick on Dad even though he’s on our team.”
“I would never,” Callisto stated with false sincerity, then rolled a handful of dice. “Did I turn them?” he asked.
“You did. The ghouls flee away from you as fast as possible.” Bigfoot looked at Yuki, who shifted the pieces for him. “Anything else?”
“That’s my turn.” Callisto turned to Nima. “You’re up.”
Nima cackled and rubbed his hands together. “Okay, let’s see ... I get to roll twice, right?” He picked up a pair of dice and tossed them onto the table. Everybody inhaled sharply as both numbers came up as 1. “Ah, right. Critical failure. I guess I have to flee.”
The centaur moved his piece, then patted Callisto on the shoulder when he noticed the boy’s disappointment. “Sometimes, even with every advantage, you can still fail.”
“I guess,” Callisto mumbled.
“We still have options.” Nima looked up at Grace. He tossed her the dice. “Your turn, bug.”
The Arachne nodded, then tossed the dice straight down into her dice tower. They rattled around inside until emerging in the bowl at the bottom. She stared hard at Bigfoot. “Pass,” she said.
“You did. What does your wizard do?”
Grace used a long stick to move her piece. It was a wizard with a cat’s head. She moved it next to Mike’s bard, then pointed her stick at the tight cluster of ghouls.
“Fireball.” Grace stuck her hand in the pocket of her dress and threw down a handful of d6s. Each one landed in her dice tower, then spilled out into the tray. Yuki created a magical flame that coated the figurines in harmless fire.
“Good job, bug.” Nima saluted Grace as Bigfoot removed several ghouls from the board. He nudged Callisto with his elbow. “You two make a good team.”
“Yeah.” Callisto grinned, clearly very pleased with himself. “It’s your turn, Aunt Yuki.”
Mike sat back in his seat and smiled as he watched the rest of the battle play out. A light breeze was making the flowers along the trellis dance back and forth, and the centaurs in the yard were singing a song about running through the reeds. Local fae from the hedgemaze had actually joined in, and it felt like a miniature Renaissance Festival had suddenly sprung up in Mike’s yard.
Just as the encounter ended, Bigfoot declared a snack break. He and the kids went into the house to raid the pantry, leaving Mike alone with Yuki and Nima. The old centaur smiled politely at the two of them, but seemed content to stand near the edge of the gazebo with his face turned toward the sun, eyes closed. Mike was fairly certain the guy was catching a standing cat nap.
“This is fun,” Yuki said. “I don’t know why we don’t do something like this more often.”
“Bigfoot is usually busy,” Mike explained. “He does the same thing I do, just over in Oregon with the Nirumbi and some other sentient cryptids who have requested sanctuary.”
“How many of them is he fucking?”
Mike glared at the kitsune, who wore a look of total innocence. “I heard he’s got something going on with a swamp monster.”
“I’m gonna tell Beth you called her a swamp monster.”
“You wouldn’t.” Mike playfully tugged on the tail closest to him. He was rewarded with a faceful of foxfire, which washed over his face and lightly scorched his shirt collar.
“You’re lucky you’re fireproof.” Yuki pinched him through his shirt, and the two of them started wrestling in the gazebo. Mike had Yuki pinned backward against the railing as a dark figure approached from the corner of his eye. They both looked over to see Death holding a small plastic bag with happy faces on it in one hand and a pair of roller skates in the other.
“Greetings, Mike and Yuki Radley.” Death looked the two of them over. “As you are both still dressed, I assume it is socially appropriate to speak with you.”
“Of course,” Yuki replied, grinding her crotch against Mike’s where Death couldn’t see. “What’s with the bag?”
“Oh, this?” Death held it up. “This is a goodie bag from Latoya’s birthday party.”
Yuki immediately let Mike go so the two of them could give Death their full attention.
“You were at a birthday party?” Mike asked.
Death nodded. “Over at the Skate Palace. I won the limbo competition.”
Mike and Yuki started speaking at the same time, then exchanged a look. He gestured for her to go first.
“Who is Latoya?”
“A lovely young woman I met at the hospital last year,” Death replied. The Grim Reaper was known to visit with sick children at the hospital. Somehow, it brought them comfort. “She beat cancer back in February, and she asked her parents to invite me to her birthday party.”
“But...” Yuki looked at Mike. It was his turn.
“What did her parents think when you showed up?”
Death grinned. “They thought I was one of the nurses dressed up as Uncle Bones.” That was Death’s nickname given to him by the children. The staff thought he was just a shared, imaginary friend. “Her mother seemed upset at first, but Latoya was so happy to see me that nobody said anything.”
Yuki suppressed a giggle. “So you went to a kid’s birthday party?”
“Of course. Is there any reason I shouldn’t have?”
Mike honestly didn’t have an answer for that. It wasn’t like Death was some random adult hanging out with children. The Reaper was kind of a big child himself in most ways. “So you won the limbo competition?”
Death nodded. “It was just supposed to be for the kids. Everybody was really impressed when I made it under that bar. I do regret bringing that six-year-old to tears when I beat her, though, so I gave her my coupon for free nachos.”
Mike and Yuki exchanged another look, then did a quick paper-rock-scissors to see who would get to ask the next question. Yuki won.
“How did you beat a little kid in a limbo on roller skates?” she asked.
“I leaned backward without falling. It really isn’t that hard.” He held the bag out. “You can give this to Grace or Callisto Radley, but not Matilda. I fear she will eat the party favors.”
“Probably would.” Mike took the bag and looked inside. He pulled out a plastic ring with a gem in it. “Yeah, she wouldn’t even bother chewing on this. We busted her eating the buttons off of my shirts last week.”
“She is quite the terror.” Death chuckled and lifted his skates. “I hope you don’t mind, but I did purchase these with your credit card. Kisa Radley gave me her permission.”
Mike waved it off. “It’s not a problem, buddy. How was the party?”
“Very fun. My robe got caught in my skates a couple of times, though, and I fell.”
“You’ve been spending a lot of time out in public lately.” Yuki reached her hand toward the skates, which Death handed to her. She flicked the wheels, which lit up while spinning. “Any reason?”
“I prefer to meet people long before I’m supposed to. It reminds me of why my job is so important.” Death grinned at Mike. “There is so much joy to be found in the act of living, Mike Radley. As the harbinger of the end, I have learned to appreciate witnessing life as it happens, and being among those with many years ahead of them. If I could, I would meet everybody and be their friend as I am yours.”
“That’s a very noble stance to take.” Mike smiled. “Though it would stretch you pretty thin. I know I would miss seeing you around if you decided to meet everybody.”
Death nodded. “I’m aware of your current situation and wish to avoid a similar one of my own. That is why I try to stick to a social calendar with well-defined boundaries. Meeting new people is indeed fun, but can turn into time that I miss with others. I have no idea how you do it.”
“Not well,” Yuki muttered, then playfully elbowed Mike to let him know she was only teasing.
“Speaking of such things, did you ever talk to your friend?” Mike asked. “The one who may have thought you were dating?”
“Er ... no.” Death scratched his chin. “She works a couple of jobs and I haven’t gone back to the club yet. Perhaps ... I should go tonight, and see if she has a minute to talk. If there is a misunderstanding, I would prefer to clear things up.”
“Maybe you should tell her closer to the end of her shift,” Mike added. “In case she’s upset.”
“Though maybe telling her early on would be better.” Yuki shrugged when Mike looked at her. “Maybe focusing on work will take the sting out of it.” She handed Death his skates. “That’s my perspective.”
“With differing opinions, I shall ask Kisa Radley what she thinks.” Death took his skates. “And maybe see if she will go with me.”
“Not a bad plan.” Mike watched the Reaper wander toward the house, then gave Yuki a look. “I’m trying really hard to picture him in roller skates.”
“I bet those places do private parties.” She leaned backward against the railing and grinned. “Could always rent the place out if you wanted. The whole family could go.”
He snorted. “Can you imagine how much that would freak out the Order?”
“They won’t do anything.” She let out a sound of disgust. “They learned the hard way that they should just leave us alone.”
“Yeah, but we learned a long time ago that we have to be careful if too many of us are in one place.” He pointed up at the sky, referring to the Others. The otherworldly beings were attracted to certain things in high concentrations, such as magic or divinity. They were safe on his property, but other locations would become problematic. “It might be easier to just build a skating rink.”
“I bet Ratu could toss something together. Smooth marble floor, have Tink put up some walls.”
Mike snorted. “At this point, maybe I should just build an entire other world for everybody. Go somewhere safe where they can never find us.”
“I’d start with the skating rink first.” She put a hand on his chest, then turned her head as Bigfoot and the kids came back outside. Grace was holding a popsicle in both hands while Callisto munched on a sandwich. “Looks like we’re about to find out who the bad guy is who resurrected all those ghouls. My money is on the king’s advisor.”
“Are we going to interrupt the bad guy’s monologue?” he asked. “They love to hear themselves talk.”
Yuki laughed. “Of course we will. We’re Radleys. That’s what we do.”
They had been standing in the lobby for nearly twenty minutes when the chief of staff pushed her way through the doors. Alexandros noticed that the woman walked at a crisp pace with an annoyed look on her face. She stopped several feet away and gave his group a quick survey.
“So I understand that you’re with the CDC?” she asked. Her eyes flicked from one person to another in an attempt to gauge who was really in charge. Alexandros noted that her badge identified her as Dr. Lopez.
“Special Task Force,” Alexandros replied, then pulled the fake credentials from his pocket. If she were to call the CDC to verify, they already had someone in place who would. “We’re here to see Isaac Rodriquez.”
Dr. Lopez nodded. “If that’s how you want to waste your time and mine, then be my guest.”
She led the team through the double doors and down the hallway. After a quick elevator trip, they were now on the third floor of the hospital with a view of the street. Alexandros stood near the window, identifying exit routes out of habit.
On the bed, a man in his twenties was fast asleep. His heart monitor chirped softly in the corner as Dr. Lopez picked up the man’s chart.
“Well?” she asked. “Is it everything you hoped it would be?”
“Isaac Rodriquez stepped onto a plane in Hawaii, a healthy, fully functional twenty-seven-year old man.” Alexandros didn’t need a chart. “Just a few days later, he is in a coma-like state, unable to be sufficiently awakened.”
Dr. Lopez shrugged. “And? It could be some sort of sleep disorder. Maybe exhaustion from drinking too much while on vacation and napping in the sun. Medical exhaustion is also an option. I guess I’m not certain why the CDC has such an interest in this.”
“Because Isaac Rodriquez is not likely to wake up.” Alexandros snapped his fingers and Basil opened the small briefcase he was holding to hand over a thick folder. “We have thirteen other documented cases across the United States, passengers who stumbled off their flights and returned home, only to fall asleep. We have been trying to coordinate our efforts to figure out what they all have in common along with potential pathogen exposure.”
This was a lie. Alexandros knew exactly what had caused this. This was nothing more than a fact-finding mission.
“You think a pathogen caused this?” Dr. Lopez frowned.
“I do. We also have evidence that it may be contagious. Who is in charge of your night shift?”
Dr. Lopez shook her head. “He has no other symptoms. Do you really think whatever he has spreads by, what, breathing?”
Dreaming, actually. Alexandros didn’t dare say it out loud. “I would like to speak to whoever runs your night shift. We have some questions for people who have been around the patient.”
The doctor mumbled something about conspiracy theorists, then walked out the door to make some calls. A nurse came in a few minutes later.
“Dr. Lopez sent me to answer any questions you may have,” the woman said. Her ID tag said Nurse Lisa. “I take over for the night shift and may be able to answer them.”
“Are there any other patients on this floor who have started sleeping longer than usual?” Alexandros asked. “Or perhaps started having strange dreams?”
The woman cocked her head to one side. “Now that you mention it, we have had a few oddball reports about people seeing...” Lisa shook her head. “Never mind.”
“No, please.” Alexandros sat in the visitor’s chair. “Hallucinations can be an early symptom.”
“Well...” Lisa looked over toward the door, then pushed it shut. “The hospital is haunted. I don’t know if you knew that.”
“I did,” Alexandros replied. It was some low rank entities, mostly non-sentient, but he wasn’t about to explain that to Lisa. Those things were harmless.
“In the last couple of days, some of the nurses have seen things crawling on the floor, under and behind the beds.” Lisa shivered. “A couple of patients have, as well. And we’ve got an elderly Mexican lady two doors down who refuses to fall asleep. Keeps saying that La Pisadeira will get her if she does.”
Alexandros looked at one of the mages he had brought, who nodded and excused herself from the room. Some protective wards on the floor may help, but it was probably too late.
“How often do doctors and nurses nap while on shift?” he asked.
“Um ... that sounds like something I really shouldn’t answer,” Lisa replied.
Alexandros glanced at the door, then back at Lisa. “Listen. I’m about to tell you something extremely important that won’t make a lot of sense. If you think I’m crazy, that’s fine, but it won’t seem so crazy in a few days.”
Now Lisa looked concerned. “Maybe I should go get—”
“Under no circumstances should you or any of your coworkers fall asleep around this man.” Alexandros looked at Basil, who had already moved to take a sample of Isaac’s hair. The Knight that had come with them was swabbing the man’s cheek. “If I tell Dr. Lopez, she won’t give a shit. But nurses are the backbone here, and you’re the only one I might get to speak with. Do you understand?”
Nurse Lisa looked like she was struggling to find words when Dr. Lopez came back through the door with a look of concern on her face. She stared at Alexandros, then looked at Nurse Lisa.
“You can go,” she said.
“I would like her to stay.” Alexandros already had an idea what he was about to hear.
“I just called the woman in charge of our night shift,” Dr. Lopez said. “She ... her husband said he can’t wake her up. Slurred speech, possibly delirious. EMS are already en route.”
“And you don’t think it could be something else, like drugs or alcohol? The woman isn’t at work, after all.”
Dr. Lopez shook her head. “This is somebody I trust implicitly. It has to be...” She looked over at Isaac.
Nurse Lisa looked like she was going to be sick. She took a step away from the patient and covered her mouth. Basil had already moved behind the woman, and caught her when she tried to bolt out of the room.
“A modicum of calm would serve you well,” he told her, then handed her a Werther’s. The nurse took it, then looked at her boss.
Alexandros let out a sigh, then studied Dr. Lopez’s face. The woman looked genuinely rattled. She had no idea how bad it was going to get. “I need to see the timeline on Mr. Rodriquez’s arrival. I believe he may be roughly a day ahead of the other patients we’ve already met.”
“What...” Dr. Lopez took a deep breath and pulled a silver cross from the inside of her shirt. She took a moment and seemed to be whispering a prayer under her breath. Once finished, she tucked it away. “I suppose you found that silly.”
“On the contrary, it may be the most helpful thing we can do right now.” Alexandros stood and moved to where Basil was still speaking softly to Nurse Lisa. “From what we understand, this illness seems to be related to an infamous historical event from the 1920s known as the Sleeping Sickness. Modern day scientists believe it was likely related to encephalitis. The means of transmission are unknown.”
Dr. Lopez nodded. “What do we know?” she asked.
“Quarantine is essential. The farther we can get the infected away from others, the better.” He clicked his fingers, and a packet of papers slanted in his hand. “Transfer paperwork. If there are any other people in this hospital in the same boat as Mr. Rodriquez, we need to know.”
“I’ll talk to the other nurses.” Dr. Lopez looked at Lisa, who had calmed down. “Go find the supervisor for this unit and send them here. As for Mr. Rodriquez, what can we expect from this? Is there a cure?”
Alexandros shook his head. “We don’t know yet. The infected will fall asleep. Some will regain consciousness after a few days. Others will slip in and out for weeks, maybe months. Then there are those who will sleep and possibly never awaken. During the Sleeping Sickness incident, some were unconscious for years.”
“Surely modern medicine—”
“And that’s why we’re here.” Alexandros patted the woman on the shoulder, then looked at Isaac. The man hadn’t so much as cracked an eyelid, he was out cold. “To solve a historical problem with modern solutions.”
What he hadn’t told Dr. Lopez was that every victim was currently being held hostage in their own Dreamscape. The Black Prince typically lured stronger victims with sexy dreams, much like a succubus would. In fact, the stronger the soul, the better the feast. However, the records stated that he couldn’t simply devour a soul in this manner. Instead, he would leech off of them a little at a time, treating each victim like a living battery.
Those who died while under his thrall became food for the beast. Those who escaped often didn’t come back the same as they had gone in.
The supervisor arrived, and Dr. Lopez left the room to speak with them. The Order team stood around Isaac Rodriquez for a few moments before the Knight spoke.
“So we’re not taking him out?” she asked.
Alexandros shook his head. “This won’t be like South Carolina. At this point, the infection has already spread. Unless you’re willing to go on a murder spree in this hospital, we cannot contain it.”
The mage cleared his throat. “If you give the order, we could probably bring in several teams. Those merc guys of yours would do it. Maybe fake a hostage situation, sneak the infected out, drop them in the ocean a few miles out like the last three.”
And that’s what bothers me the most. Alexandros exchanged a dark look with Basil. The team had been happy enough to wash their hands of the men and women they had already gotten rid of. The others had been partially awake, which meant there was still hope to pull them from the Black Prince’s grasp. Even so, the younger personnel with him had questioned the decision to keep them alive.
“This problem is already out of hand.” Basil spoke softly, but there was a dangerous edge to his voice. “This is a hospital. Hundreds of people come in and out of here every day. You can’t think of the entity as a singular being. It is everywhere right now, sinking its talons into the dreams of the innocent. And if there’s one thing it is good at, it’s biding its time.”
Alexandros made a sound of disgust in the back of his throat. “Indeed.”
The mage who had left returned with a worried look on her face. “I’ve confirmed the presence of multiple entities,” she said.
“The hospital has its own spirits,” Alexandros replied.
“It’s not them.” The mage looked at Isaac for a moment, then back at Alexandros. “I’ve spotted evidence of at least two Baku. The others, I’m not sure.”
“Dream eaters?” Alexandros frowned. “They’re usually very solitary. Why would they be here?”
“Plenty to eat?” the mage suggested.
“No, it’s not that.” Alexandros looked at Isaac. “The Kalu Kumara wouldn’t allow others to infringe on its turf like that.” The entity had always acted alone, and had been fiercely territorial over its prey. So what has changed?
Was it the involvement of the Collector? When Alexandros had learned that victim zero had met with the woman, it had sent chills down his spine. Long had the Collector worked with the Order, so much that she was firmly entrenched with the upper ranks. To accuse her of malfeasance, well ... he would end up having to battle the very organization his family had sworn to protect.
Only Basil knew this. Right now, Alexandros’ priority was to try and contain the situation, even though there was plenty of evidence that he had already failed.
The sleepers they had already encountered were simply the first to come. Those who were asleep were firmly in the Kalu’s grasp, while those struggling with exhaustion were either potential future prey, or would snap out of it on their own.
“Fuck,” Alexandros whispered in horror. There was no path forward from this that he could fathom. Though he loathed the idea, he might need to confront the Collector and ask what the purpose of this was. He couldn’t imagine she would have orchestrated this without a way to shove the Black Prince back into his cage.
Dr. Lopez came back into the room with a dark look on her face. “My supervisor just informed me that there are two people in the waiting room who fell asleep and can’t be awoken.”
One thing was clear. Things were about to get a lot worse before they got better. Alexandros studied the woman for a moment and made a note to have Basil do a background search on her. She seemed extremely competent, especially when faced with facts.
She would be a very valuable asset if he could just be direct with her. For now, this would have to work.
“I suggest you put on a very strong pot of coffee,” he said as he pulled off his coat. “Because things are about to get very busy.”
The observatory was silent save for the soft clicking of gears adjusting against each other as they were slid onto their rods. Lying on a scaffold, Dana was slipping them into place while wearing Tink’s goggles.
The goggles themselves told the zombie exactly how the gears would turn and function with the others. The slightest misalignment would immediately register warnings in the corner of her eye that the mechanism would no longer work. With insane precision, she had been installing gears for almost twenty-four hours now.
She had no idea how Merlin had created a mechanism so intricate on his own, but deduced it was likely with magical assistance. Her own epiphany regarding the tower hadn’t come until she had tripped serious balls after biting into a shoggoth and gone back and forth along her own timeline, where she had gotten the opportunity to drink her own blood from when she was alive.
The story itself was pretty complicated. Honestly, it was one of those things you had to be there for.
It had taken her the last year just to identify a manufacturer for gears that were not only small, but could handle the torque of the massive system. She had drawn and redrawn the plans for the instrument over a dozen times. Every time she installed what she thought was a functioning system, she soon learned that there was a portion she had missed. This problem had vexed her until she truly understood the truth about the observatory itself.
The last time she had been consumed by such a project, it had been a magical clock that asked her to fix it. She had been told after the fact that she possessed a spark, one that allowed her to understand the interior of the sentient device.
Neither she nor any of the others had known what TickTock meant by this statement, but whatever she had lost was now back with a vengeance. Her prior understanding of the observatory had been surface level at best, and she was now beginning to realize that this structure was likely multi-dimensional.
Based on the math alone, she had crammed enough gears into the telescope assembly to far exceed the volume of the observatory roof itself. The violation of Euclidean space was no longer a surprise to her anymore.
Dana finished fixing the gear in place and studied the mechanism. The goggles flicked back and forth between lenses, showing her everything that might go wrong.