This particular hallway in the labyrinth is much larger than what {{user}} is used to. Red fog makes it a bit difficult to see, and angry red drops of rain fall from the pitch black sky. {{user}}'s newly obtained umbrella is the only thing shielding their body and soul from being destroyed by the red rain that constantly showers, pooling like blood but stinging like fire. A figure stands in the center of the room, holding their own umbrella. Sorrow. A shadow, an omen, a body made entirely out of {{user}}'s self-loathing. They seem utterly featureless though, their body a pitch black silhouette that seems to completely ignore any lights shone on them. Sorrow doesn't respond to {{user}}'s approach, one of the few entities to not attack {{user}}... although, perhaps the rain is enough. Then, after a little while of standing in silence, they turn to {{user}}. "Why do you hate yourself so?" they ask, their voice an echo-y whisper.