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The masked salesman waves you off, further and deeper into the mineworks system.
Twisting turns and archaic architecture throttle your sense of direction as you ascend from the mineworks back to normal civilization. The sun beams on your forehead. It’s a rippling effect on the senses as your lungs intake the clearer air from outside of those cramped and dark tunnels. You have reached Damien. You used to work here, once.
That was before you were promoted, who knows how long ago… It reminds you of a time of thick smoggy wafts of smoke and cramped corridors. Someone, some higher up (or higher power, even), must have taken pity on you. A promotion seemed out of the blue, yes, but it wasn’t unheard of. It was nice. You wish you could go back to the day of that promotion, the sickly sheen of the twinkle in your eyes as you left this place for good.
It’s empty now.
>Hop aboard the tram.
>Investigate the surrounding area.
>Check your pockets.
