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Madrigal's got a— <span class="mu-i">Gil</span>'s got an irritated sort of sneer on, but doesn't say anything. You opt to follow his lead. (Since he is the expert.) Casey theatrically pushes up his sleeves, draws a small card from his back pocket, and pushes it into a nigh-invisible slot in the wall. Something clicks. Something far larger rattles.
"Okey dokey, ladies!" He steps back to survey the wall. "I'll have more to say on the inside, but for <span class="mu-i">now,</span> all you have to do is walk right on through. It's not dangerous in any way. Again, no release form. Just walk, eh?"
It's still a wall. "...Through it?"
"Oops. One tic." He steps forward, turns back to wink at you (you're about done with the winking), and raises an arm above his head. With the same heavy motion he used to bounce the ball, he <span class="mu-i">grabs</span> the wall— the smooth gleaming stone wall— and tears it downward until it crumples like a tarp. Behind it is blackness. Blacker-than-blackness. Gil mumbles something vulgar.
Casey is beaming. "There we have it. In we go, ladies."
Surely it's not a trap? This guy doesn't even know who you are. It's just— it's like what happened in the sewers, only he did it on purpose, and nobody's getting stabbed in the shoulder this time. This is fine. You don't even need Richard to tell you it's fine, that's how fine it is.
«I do not see any immediate danger. Only pointlessness.»
See? Gil hesitates longer than you, but keeps his nerve— he's in first, then Casey, then you.
*
It is dark, and more importantly humid, and you start to preemptively finger-comb your hair down when something tugs at your slacks. You stare down.
"Hello, Charlie," Richard says, and nonchalantly wrests his hand out of your belt loops. An infinite number of reflected-Richards do the same. (All of them are still wearing the damned sweater.) "This is <span class="mu-i">inconvenient.</span>"
"Just a little bit— where's this? The interim, or whatever? Where's all the stairs? And I just leave by—"
"It's an inch thick. There's no room for stairs." Richard slides his sunglasses on. "And please stay here a moment."
You tense. "You can't make me."
"I can make you, but I'm sure we'd both agree we don't want that. I just want to talk about your plan."
"I have a plan," you snap.
"I'm sure you do, Charlie, which is why I want to talk about it. How about you <span class="mu-i">explain</span> your plan, and then we can go over the glaring flaws and whatnot before you <span class="mu-i">execute</span> the plan."
(Choices next.)
