Revan pulled the door shut behind him and stood still for a moment.
The corridor ahead was pitch black.
'Well. At least there aren't any corpse piles in here.'
Actually, he didn't know that. He couldn't see a damn thing.
Revan swallowed, staring into the darkness.
'There better not be some fucking monster waiting to jump me in there.'
His eyes instinctively flicked back toward the door he'd just closed. Through the gap at the bottom, the old man's flickering lamplight still bled out in a thin orange line.
'Hmm...'
He turned back to the darkness and spat. The sound echoed forward down the corridor, bouncing off unseen walls before fading into nothing.
'If I had to guess from his appearance and his obsession with that equipment... he's either one of the people making Crimson Tears, or some kind of test subject himself who went wrong.'
Revan started walking, one hand trailing the wall.
