Eight feet in width and twenty feet high, it shaped itself.

Out from its left side, from right side, sprang arms--fearful arms that grew and grew as globe and cube and angle raced up the column's side and clicked into place each upon, each after, the other.
With magical quickness the arms lengthened.
Before us stood a monstrous shape; a geometric prodigy.

A shining angled pillar that, though rigid, immobile, seemed to crouch, be instinct with living force striving to be unleashed.
Two great globes surmounted it--like the heads of some two-faced Janus of an alien world.
At the left and right the knobbed arms, now fully fifty feet in length, writhed, twisted, straightened; flexing themselves in grotesque imitation of a boxer.

And at the end of each of the six arms the spheres were clustered thick, studded with the pyramids--again in gigantic, awful, parody of the spiked gloves of those ancient gladiators who fought for imperial Nero.
For an instant it stood here, preening, testing itself like an athlete--a chimera, amorphous yet weirdly symmetric--under the darkening sky, in the green of the hollow, the armored hosts frozen before it-- And then--it struck! Out flashed two of the arms, with a glancing motion, with appalling force.

They sliced into the close-packed forward ranks of the armored men; cut out of them two great gaps.
Sickened, I saw fragments of man and horse fly.