As they ran down the halls Ant couldn't help but notice the quite with exception for the heavy armor of the other two, and his own light foot steps echoing through those halls. Turning his head to Bram he nodded as they soon were in the west wing. He turned to the east wing and left. Walking through he found nothing but death, bodies lain about in shambles as those red eyes looked over with a calm gaze. Stepping over bodies and around fallen debris it looked as if a true battle had taken place. His mind wandered to his fellow's who wished to give chase after Lucia so soon. These were some of there best, and now here they all lay in there own life blood, burnt, cut, and maimed. 

 His ears twitched, hearing a feint sound as he walked, seeing a man crawling and barley alive. He approached him and got to a knee turning over as a very familiar face looked up at him with eyes fading of life, coughing up blood it smiled "Antafien, I see you are a live then" he said as the Drow looked at him "As you lay dieing, old man" he replied as that old man smiled "the old die, it's what we do" he stated coughing up more blood. Ant pulled out his dagger, "I can't keep my promise I made, I am sorry" Said the old man as that dagger slipped between his ribs and pierced his heart, ending his suffering as he took a last breath before the life left him and he was still. 

 Antafien closed the eyes of the dead man before standing up cleaning his dagger, those words he spoke as a child to the man that old man who recruited him echoed in his mind "I am great, make me a legend" he spoke softly as he turned his looking further down the hall. All that remained here are ghost of the past, as he looked down a the bodies and rubble, it almost reminded him of the tunnels he used to run through back in Veneel manly that they were in Ruin and with the constant smell of death. He had seen all that he needed two as he put his blade back into it's hiding place. 

 He appeared to be the last to arrive at where they split as he looked to Bram and Edun. "Nothing but death and ruin remain in these halls, let use leave these ghost to their rest" he stated as he didn't wait and turned walking back towards the entrance of the academy. The Drow's face as as calm as ever, as if he had seen nothing and was simply walking through a park, though an old saying of his people entered his mind, "Hate is a dagger--best when hidden and deadliest when precise." He was not overly fond of his own kind, but they did have there own twisted wisdom.