(Request for monthly votes! It's double monthly votes period, brothers and sisters!)
The heavy red doors of the Dark Moon Palace slowly closed behind everyone, creaking with the years-worn hinges and axles, finally shutting out the last strip of sky with a thunderous thud.
Before us lay a long and broad stone corridor, with blazing torches inserted into carved niches on both sides, casting a flickering and dim light in this dead place. The corridor had no decorations or windows, and the only splash of color was the heavy and thick red carpet covering the floor. Gloomy, dark, silent, the Dark Moon Palace was such an unpleasant place.
The Obsidian Temple of the Bingdisi family also had shadowy corridors, but this place was even more unbearable: it was filled with a kind of "dead air," a completely hopeless atmosphere, as if quietly awaiting death.
