Your hands fly across the emergency override panel, punching in codes you'd hoped never to use. The machine shrieks in protest as you bypass seven layers of safety protocols, each warning alarm cutting off abruptly as you disable them. The leather straps dig painfully into your shoulders as the time machine lurches violently, its metallic frame groaning under temporal stresses it was never designed to withstand.

Outside the dome, the vortex fractures into jagged ribbons of distorted time. You catch glimpses of impossible landscapes flashing by - a desert where the sand flows upward, a forest with crystal trees singing in an alien wind. The navigation console explodes in a shower of sparks as you input the final override sequence, your vision blurring from the G-forces pressing you into the chair.

The machine plummets through a final temporal barrier with a sound like shattering glass. Impact alarms scream as you brace for landing, the reinforced struts bending dangerously. Through the cracked dome, you see an unfamiliar sky - three moons hanging over a landscape of floating islands connected by glowing bridges. The machine skids across an obsidian landing platform, carving deep grooves before coming to rest at a precarious angle against a towering structure of impossible geometry.

Smoke pours from the ruined control panels as you struggle free from the restraints. Your implant's diagnostics scroll warnings about temporal contamination as you kick open the bent hatch. The air smells of ozone and something sweetly metallic. In the distance, you hear strange harmonic chanting and the whisper of something massive moving between dimensions.