[The hand is surprisingly grounding, though it shouldn't be when considering their environs. Yi Sang inches forward with the rail as his lifeline, and after what feels like an eternity, they manage to put the hellish tunnel behind them.
Outside, Yi Sang stands as still as a statue—albeit one with a blue face from the roiling nausea in his gut, which he promptly empties into the nearest disposal bin.]
cw: emesis . . .
[The hand is surprisingly grounding, though it shouldn't be when considering their environs. Yi Sang inches forward with the rail as his lifeline, and after what feels like an eternity, they manage to put the hellish tunnel behind them.
Outside, Yi Sang stands as still as a statue—albeit one with a blue face from the roiling nausea in his gut, which he promptly empties into the nearest disposal bin.]