Storm building

Annabeth could discern a bulky humanoid shape standing at the precipice, his arms spread as if welcoming the storm.
‘What’s he doing?’ Sadie murmured.
Annabeth flinched as a helix of copper pipes spun a few inches over her head. She stared into the debris and began noticing patterns like she had with the Duat: a swirl of boards and nails coming together to form a platform frame, a cluster of bricks assembling like Lego to make an arch.
‘He’s building something,’ she realized.
‘Building what, a disaster?’ Sadie asked…

The storm isn’t completely random,’ Annabeth said. ‘See there? And there? Bits of material are coming together, forming some kind of structure inside the building.’
Sadie frowned. ‘Looks like bricks in a blender to me.’
Annabeth wasn’t sure how to explain it, but she’d studied architecture and engineering long enough to recognize the details. Copper piping was reconnecting like arteries and veins in a circulatory system. Sections of old walls
were piecing themselves together to form a new jigsaw puzzle. Every so often, more bricks or girders peeled off the outer walls to join the tornado.
‘He’s cannibalizing the building,’ she said. ‘I don’t know how long the outer walls will last.’
Sadie swore under her breath. ‘Please tell me he’s not building a pyramid. Anything but that.’
Annabeth wondered why an Egyptian magician would hate pyramids, but she shook her head. ‘I’d guess it’s some kind of conical tower. There’s only one way to know for sure.’