M.E.G./Intermission

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===February 17th, 2016===
It was the darkest hour of the Backrooms, and Oliver Williams was exhausted.
How long had it been since the lights had flickered out and the skies had gone dark? A week? Two? Three? He didn't know. In the early days of the catastrophe, he had used one of those "quantum messenger" machines created by the Backroom Colonists to keep in touch with the Impresarios, but its battery died quickly, and with it any hope of knowing what was happening outside the bounds of the small room he had put himself in.
He heard something from outside. A distant screech of some beast hiding in the shadows, and a corresponding scream of some unlucky person, writhing in agony as it tore them apart. Him and his forefathers had helped nurture and grow this great city of New London for over a century, and now where was he? Hiding in a room to save his own skin, while his people died in the dark.
He turned on his flashlight, and looked towards the door. It wasn't a particularly useful move, but it would at least bring him a sort of temporary comfort. Some reassurance. 
He remembered a time just a few days back, when it felt like the people of the Backrooms would never have to fear again. A time when it felt like, just for a moment, that they could tame this labyrinth.
...But this place could not be tamed. They might have temporarily subdued it, but in the end all they were doing was equal to trying to tame a rabid lion with tranquilizers. They could soften its horrors, perhaps even delay them, but they would always fail eventually.
They had exhausted their options, and in the end? The lion had gone feral.
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