Chloe just looked lost, her hands shaking as she pulled them away from the machine. “What…what was that?”

“You turned the dial too fast.” Lachlan grabbed the edge of the desk to steady himself as he got up on wobbly legs. He could feel that the artificial skin on both his forearms, and parts of his face had completely burned away, probably lost to another facet of reality. “Are you okay?”

“You’re asking me!?”

“I can repair myself. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He reached over to gently caress her porcelain face. “You’re safe now. I’m right here.”

A spark of pink jumped out of her fake skin, causing him to retract his hand in pain. Another spark, from the typewriter. Gas rose from both Chloe and the machine. Through the part in the curtains behind her, in the bright blue sky, Lachlan saw bright, unnatural streaks out in space, the same way Pythius had.

“No, no!” He stumbled away from the desk to a large trunk in the corner of the room, flipping the lid open and rummaging through the contents - various detached arms, human or not, each with a strange device fitted on the end. “Hold on Chloe!”

She looked at the metaphysical energy arising from her arms. “What’s happening to me?” she whimpered.

Lachlan finally found a heavy charred arm at the bottom, ending in a series of insectoid claws, and twisted the watch-key at the end of it hard, winding the gears within. The anomalous clockwork in turn powered the zombified muscle, making it come to life, twitching slightly as he picked a thread out of thin air with another hand, and hooked it onto the arm.

He turned around, with the arm now hovering at his shoulder, both hands and all fingers a blur of movement. Instructions, to synchronise his own intentions with the extra limb. “I got it!”

There was an explosion.