Because the stage was filled with evil ghosts, the light blinded people's eyes.
—Volume Three: Light and Evil
He dusted off his suit and stared suspiciously at the decorative pattern on the wooden door before him.
He had no idea where he was. The cramped corridors twisted and turned, with puppet parts and gaudily colored costumes scattered in the corners, making the place look exactly like some third-rate horror game from more than a decade ago.
Most areas were very dimly lit; even the shadows cast by objects were faint, completely at odds with the laws of optics.
Only the wooden door was illuminated, as though every light had been focused upon it, deliberately drawing the attention of passersby.
He found it strange, so he looked away from the wooden door and tried walking elsewhere.
But he soon discovered that no matter which direction he went, he would eventually return to the same place—before this wooden door.
He was trapped inside this eerie building. Other than opening the door, he had no choice.
"What could be behind the door? There shouldn't be some instant-kill-on-opening setting, right?"
He muttered as he reached out and turned the handle.
In an instant, the wooden door vanished. Blinding white light enveloped him, and he temporarily lost his vision.
"Everyone's here. We were only waiting for you." An elderly woman's voice sounded nearby.
He laboriously narrowed his eyes, then opened them wide again. After repeating this several times, his vision finally returned.
Before him stood a massive stage, countless golden threads and strings of beads hanging from overhead.
Red and blue pennants drooped loosely from the conical ceiling, their fabric edges outlined in dark gold braid.
A table stretched across the center of the stage, bathed in a chaotic array of colored lights and shadows,