The chamber lay still, as it had for many years. Had a living person been there, they would have noticed the dull red glow coming from the pentagram inscribed into the floor. While it appeared to be empty, a patient observer would see a face appear from time to time, twisting in agony before fading from view.
And while the chamber lay undisturbed by man or beast, there was one within who simply waited. Things remained this way for many years. The observer was not affected by the passage of time, it could detect the slow build-up of dust upon the fragments of black metal scattered across the floor. That mattered little. In the distance, the Spiral was slowly fading. The energy that held the plane together were weaker than they had been in the past; the furthest places would be difficult to travel to. This also mattered little to the observer, it was obligated to remain where it was.
But then there was a sound: quietly approaching footsteps. This would not have been detected by most mortals, but the observer was not mortal. It stood, and turned to face the door, turning invisible to better gather information about how to respond.
As the footsteps grew closer still, the observer heard a discussion.
“The pentagram is ahead, we made it!”
“We haven’t made it yet, that thing is dangerous.”
“I don’t care how dangerous, we need to get them out of there”
The observer drew upon its long experience working with arcane power. It quickly derived a solution and directed the power through the logic of the spell and outward.
“FIAT TEMPUS FRANGERE”
The footsteps ceased. The discussion ended. Had the observer been human, it would have smiled. Instead, it returned its gaze to the pentagram.
The chamber remained silent for many more years.