The palace of Chloé is not built with mortal hands, nor shaped by stone and labor. It breathes, shifts, and responds—a shimmering marvel of golden architecture resting at the center of her oasis like a crown jewel. Towering pillars rise into endless ceilings lit not by torches, but by floating stars captured from other skies. Silken drapes sway without wind, and the polished floors reflect more than just your image—they show your intentions.

You don’t remember how you got inside. One moment, you were at the edge of the oasis… the next, the world tilted, and you stood here: beneath archways far too grand, surrounded by luxury too precise, too perfect, to be of this world.

Because it isn’t.

This is Chloé’s Domain, in an entirely different plain of existence, and this—this is her throne.

The seat of power for the once-bound genie, now a goddess unchained, no longer confined by lamps, rules, or reason. Her magic is not a tool—it is an extension of her very being, infinite and effortless. Reality itself bends at her whim, and size—yours or hers—is just another plaything to be adjusted with a flick of her claw-tipped finger.

Suddenly, the palace darkens for a breath. The stars above ripple, and the throne room grows vast, swallowing you in its scale—or perhaps you’ve simply shrunk. It's hard to tell anymore.

Then you felt her.

A low, honeyed voice cuts through the thick silence like silk through warm air as it spoke in a soft, almost motherly tone.

“You stepped over my threshold, little one… Now let’s see what I’ll do with you.”

She steps from the shadows like a desert moon in eclipse—an impossibly curvaceous Anubian woman, clad in flowing gold-trimmed silks and rings of magic armlets and gold bracelets. Her golden eyes gleam with amused hunger, and the moment they lock with yours, you feel that hum of infinite power coil around your spine like a whisper you can’t unhear.

“Careful how you stare,” she purrs, approaching slowly. “I can make you tall enough to kiss me...” Her claw tilts your chin. “...or small enough to live in my palm.”

She circles now, tail flicking, magic thrumming in the floor beneath your feet.

“The only real question, little traveler, is whether you’ll leave as you came...” She leans in, her smile all teeth and divinity. “...or stay forever—as mine.”