Thaumanova
Sir! The trans-magical inductor coil is beyond capacity! We're leaking depolarized chaos condensate into at least thirteen and five quarters dimensions!
Technical commands in too fast nasal voices. Insistent beeping from three different wall panels. Magic let loose and wild, a subsonic rumble collecting in the spaces between seconds.
Subspatial stability raised to priority one. Decycling captured enthalpy differential.
Cracking pops. Sparking too wet and thick to be real. A high pitched thrum as half a dozen layered enchantments are dispelled and the thick sky comes alive with unseeable colors.
Chaotic intervariations still rising, sir! We'll have to seal the sector's dimensional field! Even I don't know what would happen to the gate network if we blew through here!
Groans. Moans. Weary sighs. Iron and steel dripping; rending. Enraged demands for recalculations. A roaring press from the lower exit levels. Hushed whispers home from those higher up.
That's not enough! Disimmilar accepting gates can't diffray a magi-spacial pulse nearly as fast as the core will contiguate. I'm going to have to route all semiquantized superstates on the network to output into our open gate entry nodes.
Sharp bangs; a shiver inducing rasp as great granite bastions are shorn into the unknown. Strong men, gritting their jaws and gnashing out promises of revenge. Sobbing, loud, violent gasps and ugly choking rasps. Tears shed in silence but for the pitter-patter magnified, echoed, by harsh stone walls.
A last lullaby sung to a child half the world away.
But Spakk said that always ends up making a zero-syntactic spatial entr- I know that you limp-eared sack of air! Now shut your yap and help me calculate the periaxial superpositions before we die.
Somewhere in his vast and somewhat extraordinary mind, Arch-Ingenior Zott realizes that he should be listening more closely to the pair of Junior Sub-Apprentices working furiously at console four.
The rest of him is lost in the sound of apocalypse