A towering, skeletal structure rises from a desolate wasteland, its spires twisting like claws clawing at the sky. The walls are a grotesque blend of cracked stone and writhing, shadowy tendrils that drip with an acidic ooze, hissing as it scorches the ground. Pulsing veins of sickly green light run through its surface, casting eerie, flickering shadows. The air is thick with a choking stench of decay, and a constant, low groan emanates from within, as if the building itself were alive and in agony. Massive, jagged gates hang from twisted iron hinges, creaking open to reveal a hollow interior shrouded in crimson mist. The walls inside pulse with faint, ghostly faces frozen mid-scream, and disjointed whispers echo endlessly, calling out in tongues that no living soul should understand. The central chamber is dominated by a gaping abyss, with narrow, crumbling paths spiraling into darkness. Below, a writhing mass of shadow and crimson light seems alive, emitting a chorus of tortured screams. The structure radiates an oppressive, malevolent energy, making the very ground around it crack and decay. No creature dares approach, except those who wish to lose their sanity—or their soul. interior ligting is warm and cosy