Dylan nodded to Darcy as she told them what to do and picked up his share of the cameras before making off after her. They journeyed into the foyer, the shadows growing thicker as the night wore on. As they ventured into almost total darkness he took a torch out of his pack and lit it, the bright yellow light providing a welcome - if small - relief from the blanket of darkness. The asylum was darker even than the night sky that could be glimpsed through the broken windows; the darkness denied even the starlight from entering its domain. In spite of this, Darcy remained ahead of Dylan, as if the darkness didn't bother her at all.

He had seen this state of hers a few times over the course of their friendship. He wasn't sure what it entailed but usually just let her concentrate. It was usually harmless and she'd break out of it eventually. This time, however, was different. As Dylan shone the torch ahead, Darcy suddenly stopped and clutched her head. In a rush, Dylan set down the equipment and rushed to where she was.
[color=gray]"Darcy, what's wrong? What's happening to you?"[/color]