Tensions were high, but experience has always shown that's a good thing when facing unknown threats ahead. If the team was this quick to snap at each other it was only because they're much more ready to snap a shot at anything that moves past their vision. And, on the subject of vision, these floors were dark. The dying sunlight which partially filtered through the missing windows of the hollow below, and the lamps that were set on the lower floors were neither found in this upper area. In fact, the smoke had blackened the windows completely, leaving the next floors as dark as pitch. Everyone had their lamps on who brought them, and the meager light they provided was a blessing.
Also unlike the lower floors, there were doors on every level. Closed doors. Reassuring as that was to most, Devoted was not feeling particularly well. After 15 flights, he was feeling a tingling in his mind, tracing around in a dizzying way. Watching his wrist, the glomoss tabs he kept there confirmed it. The second of them had died, accompanied by his Foci. There was something wrong in this place. Something bad-wrong. History isn't exactly sunshine and roses anywhere in the Zone, but this place is one with a historical significance... or a present one.