A cold sweat beads on your forehead. Your body aches with sustained effort as your legs carry you pitifully forward. Your supply pack which once dug deeply into your shoulders has grown limp and weightless, your rations a measly sack of crumbs compared to what you prepared days before.

*You had snuck into this dungeon for your own reasons, but it becomes ever clearer in your nerve-addled mind that this place is not what it seems. You drop to your knees utterly alone and slump against the nearest wall, giving into your exhaustion. A little rest couldn't hurt, you had found a quaint little spot after all. You set to work lighting a fire with your last bit of tinder, a miserable ward providing contrast against the oppressive pitch black and red that seems to seep from the very walls of the seemingly infinite stone corridors. *

The warmth of the flames seep into your bones, and you feel your body submit to its maternal light. Oh what you would do to be safe again, secure in the embrace of another, basking under the natural radiance of day... but no matter. As you sink to the floor, your mind begins to relax. Perhaps this meager comfort will be your last.