As Sorin listened to the man, his brow furrowed in thought. A plane of that many populated worlds? It was rare, but not unheard of. Rabiah was onesuch that he could recall, consisting of precisely one-thousand-one worlds. The issue with these larger planes was that their mana was often thinly diffused throughout them, making naturally-occurring mages a rarity in them.

Still, he mused aloud, "One plane, yet many worlds. Content with a tyrant to rule them. It is well that the Elder Dragon has not yet discovered your plane, 'System Lord.'" He warned, cryptically.

The small group came upon the towering structure, apparently halted by the security measures in place. Sorin was not familiar with this specific architecture, but he had seen structures not unlike this one on more urban planes, such as Fiora. They were apparently worried about tripping some manner of alarm by forcing their way in, which Sorin deemed a paltry manner. Mortals were very rarely difficult for him to deal with.

As he strode forward to resolve the issue, he gave the offhand comment, "It's a queer thing, how a blatantly necrotic lich is so concerned with subtlety."

Sorin called to the Black mana of the plane, and with it he formed a simple corruption spell. With a slight touch, the wood of the door around the lock rotted away, and the latch fell to the ground with a clang. Another tap and the heavy doors swung open. Sorin turned about, sardonically gesturing for his "companions" to lead the way inside.