As the tour progressed, Uriel felt sick to her very soul. These people were living a fate worse than death, and she was seeing the worst kind of rift between the authorities and the populace. The entirety of the sixth level seemed to be bathed in human filth and Uriel, unclothed as she was, had to walk in it. She pulled her antennae in front of her and hugged them to her chest, afraid to let them brush up against anything and introduce some kind of illness to her system--or worse: taste it. When the day was coming to a close and she'd seen nearly every wretched thing there was to see, she was dismayed. This place wasn't an example to protect and appreciate humanity--it was an excuse to sterilize the place. They would all die, the Elisions would get away with breaking wartime regulations, and the Arondites might even hold a grudge against her for it. This place... this horrible place, the council must never know of it.<br/><br/>Ryan took them both someplace he thought would be somewhat safe and sanitary so they could sleep, and Uriel told him:<span style="color: #BF80FF"><span style="font-style: italic">"Tomorrow, we will observe the fifth level. What I've seen here won't be in my report."</span></span>She paused, thinking how this was the place Ryan grew up.<span style="color: #BF80FF"><span style="font-style: italic">"My condolences."</span></span><span style="font-style: italic">For the death of your childhood,</span>she thought. She laid down, hugging her antennae in front of her to keep them from touching the... anything, trying to get some sleep.