Antigone was surprised to find herself believing him. Maybe it was the curve of his back, his frantic breathing. Maybe it was the way he curled in on himself, instead of lashing out. Another man might have tried to put his fist through the dead buttons, but he was shaking on the floor. She licked her lips and said, with the barest of smiles, "...okay."
For a second she looked up again, into the dark shadows gathered at the roof of the elevator, at the walls that seemed to loom over their heads like a giant was slowly pressing them together. There'd been a little light in the cave, as well, light enough to guide her hands to make a noose so she wouldn't have to live here, in the enclosed black, after the torch had died. "Asterion," she said, using her own voice to pull herself back to the present. "We're going to get out of here. It's just an elevator, it's not... not what we think it is. Just an elevator. See," she rapped her knuckles against the doors. "Metal."