Once the darkness disappeared, Azemo was standing before a massive gate. It was made of some sort of black metal and looked as if no one could break it down. The heavy rectangle of metal, that was a door, was framed by two pillars adorned with sharp spikes and colored a fiery red.
Azemo looked down, remembering that his leg had broken. What he saw with his glance was that he was floating in the air and he did not have any feet. His legs ended in whisps and the one that should have been missing was no different from the other.
'Reginald, you there?'
No reply.
'I guess I am on my own, this must have something to do with the ritual.'
Seeing nothing of interest, Azemo headed towards the gate.
Standing right in front of them, looking up, the gate was even more imposing, as if it was there to keep things in, rather than out.
