You are standing upon a strange island. The ground is smooth and reflective, apparently made of jet-black obsidian. A few smaller pebbles seem to be scattered randomly over the surface, and occasionally large, sharp obsidian spikes protrude from the ground. The whole island is approximately circular, and no more than maybe twelve metres in diameter.
Near the other end of the island is a block of obsidian that seems to have formed a table – a crude obsidian chair is on one side of it, apparently waiting for someone to sit upon it. On the table sits what looks to be a small book, and some sort of game-board. Several small figures stand upon the board, and a few more are scattered around it. A short distance away from the table is a massive obsidian bookcase, filled with dusty tomes.
Beyond the island itself is nothingness. It seems the entire mass of the island is floating in mid-air, and beyond it there is only a slowly swirling, colourless limbo. Looking at it makes you feel strange, almost dizzy… somehow you know that this nothingness contains colours that your eyes simply cannot see.
The entire area is completely silent, and you feel as though speaking in anything above a whisper would somehow breach the sanctity of this place.
Your guide, Soul Reaver, stands nearby, prepared to offer you his words if you should ask. The table at the other end of the island also beckons, as do the many tomes within the bookcase. However, you could also abandon this place, and plunge yourself once more through a Warp Gate and into the Warp.
Finally, you may wish to ask your guide to take you with him on his current quest.