There's a long near-silence in that space Felix enters. Distantly, someplace far away, there is a strange droning, a din like the sound of many people speaking many rooms away. Too indistinct for any words to be made out, or even any emotions, but the sound of voices nonetheless.

Then a closer voice answers, warbling like a wounded man struggling to stay conscious.

Is someone there? it asks frantically. It's Harrowheart's voice, undoubtedly his soul, but lost and confused.

I-if anybody's here, you have to leave. You don't want this.