Walls covered in wine-red spotted wallpaper, the world spinning around, the damp, moldy smell filling the nostrils.
The flickering lights, appearing constantly in all four directions, accompanied by that sudden, constant buzzing noise.
The space of The Living Fish Inn and the Shrine of Rebunhua overlapped under the influence of The Mirror Beyond the Clouds.
The crumbling walls around them, the mottled wine-red receding to be stripped into black lines, chaotically outlining the space of the inn.
Sloppy, gloomy, dead still.
It was quick.
The surrounding black lines began to disintegrate, messy, splendid, and twisted, incomprehensible.
