There was no deceit left in the operator's mind; the mage was physically incapable of lying.
Isiah could sense the deep, ragged vibrations of the man's broken psyche, the Abyssal Mind-Rot spell had stripped away every shred of deception, leaving only a hyper-ventilating vessel bound to absolute compliance.
Satisfied, Isiah turned away from the trembling operator and strode toward the transit floor.
He moved along the curved gallery, inspecting each of the ten roaring chambers one by one.
His cold, analytical eyes tracked the shimmering array of containment runes, the synchronized pulse of the spatial rings, and the steady, pristine flow of uncorrupted Ghorath energy circulating through the internal conduits.
Everything was calibrated to absolute perfection.
Stopping at the entrance of the central primary chamber, Isiah turned back to face his group.
"Everything is ready," Isiah said, his voice flat .
