Everything seems to go very cold, suddenly. Without the melody that's guided Greg this far everything is caught in a deafening silence, save for the thump as the magically enhanced vines fall off of Greg's shoulder into a lifeless heap of vegetation.

Greg feels sick. He's pretty sure he's about to die, or wish he were dead. God, he's so stupid. Why didn't he get out of here when he had the chance? Why did he come down here in the first place? He knew this would happen. What was he thinking?

Easily intimidated.

Shaking, Greg turns to face Edward Blanche. The faint humor in the man's face only makes him feel worse. This is all just a game to him, after all.