The lights and the silence…
Corridors within the pools converge into a whole, tiles morph into hexagons. Cables now hang out of their corners, emanating a bright luminescence, lighting up the surrounding porcelain surfaces. A buzzing noise echoes throughout the halls. Flights of stairs, lengthy corridors and surreally large rooms are lit up, making the area apparent. Pools lack water, even far below the floor, where appearance fails to make sense. The structure beneath is unimaginable, mystical, and darker than the void.
Lights stay forever still, creating the illusion that something is running towards one's position, but monotony takes over like a forever ticking clock, a manifesto of meaningfulness.
Tiles shine bright beneath the lights. They follow the hexagonal pattern of repetition, metaphorical agony. Temperatures are abstract, rather enigmatic. The endeavor of comprehension is inexistent in this environment. Darkness lurks in itself, much like a foreign hue.
