With each of the Kindred involved involved taking an hour with the puzzle box, half a night slowly whittles away. It is clear that the box is frustratingly intricate, allowing for a multitude of false starts, and steps which must be doubled back on each other before proceeding along a true course. Several times, one must figure out where in their current area of work to stop and continue elsewhere. Only a few elements to the design permit the entire structure to twist or spin like a Rubik's Cube. There are a number of steps, doors, slides, and hinges that are either required to operate or will hinder this progress.
All in all, it's a maddening four hours. That seems to yield very little in the terms of success. A normal person might think more than once that a pry bar could be the next obvious tool of choice. However, there is no guarantee that whatever prize lies within is sturdy enough to withstand a forced extraction.
Once again, it's Teo and Martha who excel here. They both hit the same wall. The box is no longer shaped like a box at all; but like some strange three-dimensional steel snowflake. Still concealing something within a thick center block core.
But it is Martha, who makes it to the same finish line fifteen minutes early and takes a little extra time to examine their new paper weight.
Nearly unnoticeable among the device's many, many crevices between separate plates of metal, there are two wider slots. Holes, really. Perhaps an inch and a half apart from each other, and practically identical.
Approximation of the box when fully closed. Perhaps the dimensions are different, and more rectangular than a perfect cube, but this I think represents an acceptable potential for the box's complexity
Ignore its hat.