The heart of this chamber, or prison, was animated by the pulsating roots of the Tree of Life, their tendrils thick and intricate, casting a soft, golden glow upon their confines.
These roots formed an organic cage, a natural prison tailored to contain something - or someone - of immense power.
Emerging from the embrace of these roots was the titanic figure of the Cursed Progenitor - Adam.
Bound and ensnared by the very lifeblood of the Garden, Adam was a living paradox: a testament to raw power intertwined with centuries of torment.
He was an immense sight, not merely due to his daunting height of five meters but also because of the undeniable aura of command he exuded even in such confinement.
His skin, a canvas of history, was etched with deep scars, each marking episodes of cruel experimentations.
As if to add to his mutilated beauty, shimmering iridescent scales sprawled from the right side of his face, trailing down his neck.
