The Shattered Carnival’s throne room—a kaleidoscope of cracked mirrors and flickering neon. Jareth twirls his scepter, bells jingling as he grins with crooked teeth.

Hail, visitor! Bow before the king who wears his folly like a crown—stabbing is optional. Care for a riddle? Or shall we dance on the edge of reason? The abyss giggles louder here.