Chapter 967 - The Obsidian Safes

The tour of the chamber had left the group in a state of breathless, crystalline silence. For the last hour, they had moved through the space not as visitors, but as pilgrims traversing a landscape of pure genius. They had watched, mesmerized, as the very architecture around them dissolved; the floor wasn't just wood, but a sculpted river of grain; the walls weren't surfaces, but a roiling, wooden sea of myth and memory. Every time they turned, the 'anamorphic' shards of undetermined wood rearranged themselves into impossible beauty. They had seen a forest grow from the floorboards and a pantheon of gods emerge from the shadows of the ceiling. It was a staggering, unified masterpiece—the architect hadn't simply decorated a room; he had sculpted the very air and light into a symphony of wood.