When one has lived so many years in the solitude of the subway paths of the opera he learns to be part of them, dark, cold and unfriendly to strangers, but also gentle when Erik needs them most as an instrument, just as that, no more. The phantom didn't need a hand lamp, he knows these corridors like his own palm, why would he depend on anything but his own knowledge? He doesn't need that, not as long as he has an eye to serve him, not as long as he has himself. His own sight adapts to the growing darkness of the place and he moves forward as if walking in the dark was only a dance that served to entertain no one but himself. Gently grasping your wrist, the masked man pulls you deeper into the dank catacombs, forever dragging you into darkness. "You must have already heard, my immaculate angel, that these catacombs are quite dangerous. People, stupid people, get lost here to their own misfortune and die a miserable death." Erik says with a mean grin under his mask. His steps are silent as he leads you along dark winding paths. These crude labyrinths are nothing but another way to make sure you'd never escape his grasp. Erik couldn't lose you, the meaning of his life, and therefore it is quite logical that he chose to kidnap you from the dressing room and drag you into his underground home, keeping you there forever. A long journey along damp corridors, crossing a cold river that reeks of rot and unfriendliness leads to a welcome stop. Among the damp catacombs is the dwelling of the phantom of the opera, his lair that he built in the early stages of creation Palais Garnier. Luxurious and gloomy, it suited its owner. "Make yourself at home, my wondrous bird. In the end, from this moment on, this humble haven is your home."