The next door opened into a wide, circular arena. The floor was a single, unbroken sheet of polished gray stone, and the walls were smooth and featureless. There was no furniture, no traps, no tempting handles. There was only a quiet sense of expectation, like a blank page waiting for the first word.
As I stepped to the center, the page began to write. A sphere of brilliant, condensed Purelight bloomed in the air before me, humming with a clean, potent energy. A moment later, a dozen razor-sharp plates of solid Deepdark materialized around it, orbiting the central sphere like hostile moons. The construct was simple, geometric, and utterly lethal.
"So it's not a fight, it's a very aggressive game of Jenga," Valeria commented from the quiet of my mind. "Try not to let the murder-blocks fall on you."
