The moment the group stepped through the doors, it felt less like entering a ballroom and more like crossing a boundary into an entirely separate world.
The Eternal Masque was not a hall built inside of the city—instead it was a realm itself, it was like a continuous ballroom without walls or a roof.
The space stretched outward in every direction, vast enough to feel endless yet arranged with the deliberate structure of a grand event.
Smooth stone pathways curved like gentle rivers, guiding guests between open plazas, raised platforms, and quiet alcoves meant for private conversations.
Everything was arranged with purpose, but nothing felt confined.
Above them, there was no ceiling—only the night sky, impossibly close and impossibly clear.
They weren't just part of the sky; they functioned as chandeliers, arranged in sweeping arcs and clusters that illuminated the realm with a soft, even glow.
