As you step into this massive chamber crafted of blackened arjale, a sense of dread fills your mind as nightmarish purple flames ignite the room, reacting to your presence. It drips from the ceiling and reaches out from the walls with wicked tongues forked a thousand times, not to lick your flesh, but to eat at your very soul. As the fire penetrates every fiber of your being and stirs up every insecurity and all the hatred you have ever felt simultaneously, you wish a thousand times the pain was physical and the flames were melting your flesh eternally rather than feel one more second of this inner turmoil.