Not all who wander are lost, not all that glitters is gold. The door swings open without resistance, and the darkness within is overwhelming. It is a darkness so deep it blinds, a shadow that obscures all, a night that never ends. It pulls you in, faster than you can realize and stronger than you can resist. In a moment, you are gone, nought but a speck in a labyrinth full of dust.

Your journey appears to have ended here, alone in the darkness of a labyrinth, consumed by the shadow that consumes all. Fret not over the End. The End is inevitable. Nought could be done. We are but dust and bone, animated for a short time, before returning to our inert state. Does this frustrate you? Sadden you? Shed not a tear for the inevitable End. Nought could be done. Let us return to our own, hand-in-hand, and sleep forever more under the cover of night.