Twelve dimensions felt like trying to see with organs that didn't exist.
Elias's perception stretched and twisted as the doorway deposited him into a space that operated under geometric rules his three-dimensional instincts violently rejected. Up, down, left, right, forward, backward—those were the easy ones, familiar from normal existence.
But then there were six more directions, each one perpendicular to all the others in ways that created angles his visual cortex tried and failed to process. His mind wanted to collapse the complexity into manageable shapes, but forcing twelve-dimensional reality into three-dimensional understanding would be fatal here.
He stopped trying to see and started comprehending instead.
