You stalk down the dark hallway, heels clicking, spine straight, and try to keep your breathing steady. You really should have stopped for a drink on your way over—fortify the nerves—but that will have to wait.
Ahead of you the admin assistant shines a torch from nameplate to nameplate and chatters, incessantly, as they walk.
"...ost of the people in this part of the building are architecture or architecture-adjacent, design, urban planning, but with the history basement flooded—but they promise the power will be back on tomorrow—you've also got a couple of medieval histories, some archeologies in the vacant..."
That places the Professor nearby. Good.
"Oh-ho!" exclaims the assistant. They stop in front of one door and fumble with their keys for a minute before managing to get it open. They step inside.
27th place (out of 103) in the 26th Annual Interactive Fiction Competition.
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