The boundless gray fog boiled as the ancient and majestic palace burned.
The blazing flames condensed into a fiery blob, as though a blinding sun had risen out from this mysterious space.
A howling hurricane flipped the long mottled table, snapping the thick stone columns and causing half the palace to collapse.
Sitting at The Fool's seat, Klein's brain was boiling before holes exploded out of it. Charred maggots then began crawling out of the cracks.
He didn't die, and he had even very calmly reached out his right palm and tapped the armrest of the chair.
Above the gray fog, this mysterious space quaked in an obvious manner. Waves of power surged out one after another, calming the hurricane and extinguishing the flames. The blazing sun evaporated, inch by inch.
