The interior of the Wormworld Spiral was like a completely new world swallowing anyone who entered through its door so suddenly that almost always, a dreadful look of shock would appear on their faces.
As it turned out, except for Arch-Mage Ryte – obviously – everyone else in the group had never set foot in this tall tower, and they all gaped at the vast pool of mana, assorted abstract energies and aesthetic sacredness that blew against their faces as they gazed upon the pristine innards of the tower.
They were forced to suck in a sharp breath.
The beauty.
The grandiosity.
The structural genius.
Even though Skullius, Aurolio and Gillewart had no idea what they were looking at, they were smitten silly by it all and lost their cool for a couple of seconds.
It was a privilege to enter this place, really.