library would be easy, but when did it get so dark...?
The shadows are so profound that they almost feel wet.
Weak, sticky hands reach for you, clinging to you,
winnowing through the empty places inside you.
That empty place - that 'something-missing' feeling deep within
your soul... That's what drew you here in the first place,
isn't it?
But there's enough left in you to receive this transmission:
Without speaking, the slate presents you with an ultimatum.
Will you approach the slab?