[ The tracks make their leisurely way down two corridors and a flight of stairs, finally stopping at what would, for all intents and purposes, be a dead-end wall. Save for the ladder propped up beside it.
And the square hole in the ceiling panels above, through which, accompanied by the sound of scraping and tapping, bits and flakes of debris slowly drift down, like ominous snowflakes. ]
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And the square hole in the ceiling panels above, through which, accompanied by the sound of scraping and tapping, bits and flakes of debris slowly drift down, like ominous snowflakes. ]