Next, there is a labyrinth that constantly changes, with countless bird beaks covered in scales emerging from the void, spewing purple flames that flow with lies. Each flicker of flame reflects a distorted history, and knowledge rots into writhing runes in a rainbow whirlpool, while the brain matter of the observer boils and evaporates from the paradox of understanding.
Then, there is a plague garden filled with twisted species. Green pustules swell from the core of the galaxy, and rotting, bloated creatures hum lullabies, scattering spores with fingers infested with maggots. The surface of infected planets swells with pulsating blisters, and in the erupting yellow-green smoke, newborn demons sing life's praises with seven mouths simultaneously.
