- The people they did not like in there because they could not get their brains into the contorted fashion to operate a lived life spontaneously as if any of this made any -

Sense -

Difference -

Reality -

He went inside.

But first.

No he just went inside.

He breathed, same time, accepting a completely new interpretation of life, reality, his identity, self, and his relationship to any of this, especially as each of these things, in the manner in which they had to, inevitably did, interacted with the goals, precepts, perceptions, and requirements of - He wrote himself for - Massimo Diap'leptico Rampposz -

Inside.

The place he was:

It looked like this:

It was this:

This:

He described the place internally to himself in exactly this fashion in these words; he didn't just see it; he had to construct it out of words:

It looked like this:

The place he was:

It looked like this:

It was rather complicated - this was why the: ten, a completely profligate, decadent, unnecessary waste of resources and therefore a power move – of ten Cyclops, overlapping each other and him; the whole place, in separate fields of reality/perception, of - interpretation, that made the place, it was rather complex -

it was Massimo Diap'leptico Rampposz's office.

The place he was:

It looked like this:

You needed that many to pull a place as complex out of the zone between three civilisations, societies, realities, cultures, that was the location, ephemeral, not even really in the strictest sense material, of Old Works, that existed - the middle kingdom between those three worlds – the only means through which they could interact – of Hortag, Shensh and Theust.

But:

The place he was:

It looked like this:

In three separate zones, with his desk in the middle, each straight out their eyeballs regarded that way by three Cyclops, the extra one standing by the desk - it was rather complicated and required that too.

Weird stairways that went nowhere that started out glass; ended up rock; stone, sandstone, granite, and marble on the way – mirror - you went up those stairways and ended up – well it was impossible to say. Somewhere else. Each of the separate three sections that constituted the relatively vast space were each stairways in their own right. Many of which, other stairways to nowhere, that littered the separate sections in this reality, if you could call it that, mirrored these other stairways in each of their individual steps. No. It could barely be seen let alone described.

You often had the strange impression, this place, mostly when you were unfortunate enough to catch a glimpse of these miniaturised total realities out the corner of what otherwise was an eye regarding, not in the way these Cyclops - save him from that, but - suddenly you had a violent, weird impression of being a massive entity. At the same time observed intimately in miniscule scale; there was perhaps something intentional in this.

Any time, here, Massimo Diap'leptico Rampposz could make you feel like reality wasn't corresponding to what it should, and that the definition of what it should, was decided, indeed designed, delegated out that way, by him; it was decided by him. That would - anything that reinforced that subtext was - apparently he wanted that.

The top section, the top step, had a ceiling up there, and several waterfalls that came out the otherwise regular, in terms of Old Works, plane of reality black panel ceiling panel. Except - several in fact had waterfalls pouring out individual panel tiles, that fell in great torrents directly into the tiles below: best avoided, single units of reality; a weird geometric sectionalism to it, like Old Works really, itself.