A lone wanderer stands on an endless desert made of shimmering, reflective sand that bends and twists reality like a funhouse mirror. Above, a sky split into vibrant fractals spins slowly, pulsating with electric hues. The wanderer, dressed in tattered robes made of flowing liquid light, gazes at a towering, glowing tree in the distance. Its branches twist into impossible shapes, each sprouting neon leaves that morph into butterflies before disintegrating into sparks. As the wanderer approaches the tree, the ground ripples beneath their feet, and the air hums with a low, otherworldly chant. From the base of the tree emerges a being—an enormous, translucent feline with six eyes that blink in alternating patterns, its fur a living tapestry of constellations. It speaks, its voice a distorted symphony, and offers the wanderer a key that seems to unlock reality itself.