The darkness of the institute had once seemed unbearably oppressive to Ilia. It had frightened her, but it really wasn't the darkness anyone had to be afraid of. Fear of a silent death at the hands (or claws) of some unknown adversary seemed so awful back then, but now she knew better. To die in front of the ones you love, in broad daylight, by the very hand of someone you thought of as a friend; that was true horror. That was despair.

Doggedly, Ilia made for their destination without bothering to look back.

[to here]