With the urgency of the floor crumbling silently away behind them and the exact pitch of the darkness into which they descending, it's difficult to define the point at which they cross into the passage's final chamber. Did the passage widen suddenly, or was it a gradual shift? How large is the space through which they pass now--are the walls of the chamber just there beyond their reach in the dark, or has the room widened into some great hall? Once the silent rumble of the old ruin's failing mechanisms fades, they are left with just still air, entombed by pitch darkness and a pall of quiet hanging so thick that even shouting feels like physically taking a knife to something.

And then in the dark: a comforting flicker of light.