An old man, an older woman and she stand, alone. The reality in which they have currently assembled proves unstable, deteriorating quickly. The old man begins. “No,” the older woman interrupts, “she will tell us what we need to know.” She looks at the older woman defiantly, and then she glances at the old man, softening. “The only way in through,” she states aloud, crisp, clear, unafraid. The old man crumbles, defeated. “To attempt to travel together would indeed be a form of suicide, from here, none could know of what type,” the older woman laments. “Nevertheless, to travel otherwise, probabilities remain the same.” “I cannot travel with you,” the old man reminds the older woman. “Nor I with her,” the older woman retorts. “Nor I with him,” she states.