[From here]

Stomping up the stairs, the Mathematician was immediately reminded of his lack of a hand truck banging up behind him. He'd probably need to replace that if he wanted to grab more materials for his artwork.

"Haven't made so much as a single standing statue since Night 1," Sho muttered as he clomped up the stairs in his institute boots. Sure there'd been the occasional creation in Arts&Crafts, but that hardly counted. Well, there was one artistic piece he could be proud of, fleeting as it was... "Well, other than my latest masterpiece!"

A chuckle and laugh - he still had most of the materials for another as well - all he needed was a suitable subject to paint red with flame.

[From here.]

Upon stepping through the door, Peter had felt a weird rush of blood to the head, something that put him off-balance for just long enough that he couldn't quite place what had happened except that they were definitely not in a file room. The sudden drop in temperature was the first clue, and his original guess was a morgue.

As it turned out, they were in a cold storage area for food. Blinking his eyes a few times to make sure that he wasn't somehow seeing things (though why would he see this?), Peter stepped up next to Sam and continued to look around, mouth slightly open.

Maybe Sam had gotten mixed up? But still, it made no sense for a refrigerator to be just off of the main hall like this. Rubbing his hands over his arms to try and keep warm, he glanced over to his roommate with a puzzled expression. "This... isn't supposed to be here, is it?"

[YEAH BOOZE-- I mean, from here.]

He lost his balance while crossing over and nearly tripped on his own slippers; if not for the brother at his side, Nigredo might have fallen over. There existed an imbalance in his steps, a sensation close to vertigo, as though their surroundings thought it fit to move to them and not the other way around. This itself was disconcerting, and he had to wonder just how much of a dosage his nurse had given him.

It took a minute to regain bearings, but the confusion was instantaneous. They were, like before, in a place unfamiliar. Now different; no mirrors or tile could be seen from any side. Rain continued to fall from overhead with increasing intensity while the scent of sawdust and alcohol hung heavy in the air. With it, the uncomfortable churning in his stomach started once again. The boy paused, breath suddenly heavy and sick, to consider their surroundings.

"Where--" Where were they?

[From here]

622 risked a glance over the railing as they passed the Sun Room down below. Nothing there yet. Not even something guarding the area. "Hmm." That was odd. There was always a guard stationed there. Maybe he just couldn't see it, but shouldn't people be trying to head through there by now? There would be evidence if they had.

[From here.]

If they had exited back out into the hall, maybe Peter would have been able to write off the misplaced refrigerator as some kind of weird fluke -- or Landel messing with them, either worked. But when he felt that same strange sensation, almost like something was shifting as he walked through the door, it was clear that this was somehow intentional.

Is this what Landel had meant by reconstruction? If so, he had a pretty weird way of describing things. At least this place was a more bearable temperature, and it also had things more interesting than food in it.

The glow of the computer ahead of them caused Peter to take a step forward. He turned around for a moment to stare at Sam, shrugging his shoulders to show that he had no good explanation for how this was going on, or why. Teleportation still seemed like the most likely answer, but if that was the case, then it was being done in a very precise way, and from a long distance. Most powers required touch to activate; Peter knew that from his jaunt with invisibility. On the other hand, if someone really developed their ability, there was no telling how sophisticated they might get at using it.

"It's going to be tough to keep everything straight at this point," Peter said with a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. "Have you been here before?" It was clear they were still in the institute, but where exactly was a mystery to Peter.

[From here]

Still quiet. 622 really didn't trust this, but if they could get to where they were going, at least he might be able to find out more about what this place expected him to be, even if there wasn't anything useful. Maybe he could still make something out of it.

Still, he had a bad feeling about this.

[To here]

[from here]

Now that he was more aware of what to expect, Minato decided that the warping sensation was more disorienting than moving around in Tartarus. At least he didn't get dizzy when he was returned to the bottom of the monstrous tower. ...Unless he was already fatigued from fighting and climbing the entire night. But that only happened when he pushed himself too hard.

A flash of light, brighter than anything his flashlight could produce, caught Minato's attention. He stared ahead at the windows to the far side of the room; even the half-closed blinds couldn't keep out the lightning. It looked like they hadn't been returned to the hallway outside of the Sun Room.

He could see the outline of furniture even before he turned his flashlight towards the center of the room. The many gray chairs created strange shadows along the floor, framed ominously by the dimly-lit blinds and the sound of rain pounding on the roof and windows.

"...So it's random," he murmured, shaking his head slowly. "I don't recognize this room, either."

[From here]

The kitchen was another totally valid target. Last time, that spider had kept him from getting to keep those cookies (nevermind he had thrown them at her). He just felt like going there first tonight. In no way was he avoiding dealing with Neku. He could go kick that nanogram's face in any day of the week. He just had better things to do now than here him whine about some dead variable J. That was practically old news - he was composer now.

"Out the door, patio, 180 to the left, door, door, kitchen," he rambled absently.

[From here]

The last hall! HK had never been here before, but he'd long ago memorized maps of the area long before the censorship began on the bulletin, and generally ruined his daytime fun. He darted ahead through the darkness, examining the doors as he passed them. Aha! The janitor's closet. "Statement: Here it is." Improvised blunt weaponry awaited!

The door was locked, but the whole assembly looked flimsy. Remembering how Lugnut had broken his foot before, he decided it was better if he managed to get the thing open. A carefully placed kick or two should do it...

[From here]

The dark looks the same, no matter what, but the moment Hime's flashlight beam ghosted over rows of books, she knew something was odd. When a flash of lightning illuminated the darkened bookstore, it was confirmed.

Somehow, they had stepped out of the institute and into Doyleton.

Hime was just about to inspect this more, to see if there was some illusion when the jingling of a bell caught her attention. It was the one on the door. The door!

"Don't let the door-" she spun around to warn Depth Charge as the man followed her inside, but before she could even finish her sentence, there was a slam and a click as the door closed behind him, seemingly by its own accord. "...close."

Now they'd done it.

[From here]

HK stepped through, mouth already moving before his eyes got around to letting his brain in on things, and before the confusion managed to tap Mouth on the shoulder and get it to realize something was wrong. "Statement: And here we-- ...Where are we." This wasn't what was on the door. In fact, the room was too big to be the one the door led to.

Also, it didn't seem to have any possible weapons in here. "Observation: I think this place has gone non-Euclidean."

[[From here]]

Russia had expected some kind of storage room.  Rows of shelves, lockers maybe.  Boxes even.  But if he was to take away any important lesson from the people he'd met today, it was that all of them, each and every one, was disappointing.  There was nothing but an empty table and several surrounding chairs.  It rather reminded him of some of the meetings he'd had with the other Allied Powers during the second world war, cramped in that little room and forced to listen to America's inane ramblings.  

He turned back to his traveling companion, offering a condescending smile.  How difficult could it be to know the layout of this facility?  Did the sergeant take him for a fool maybe?  Just to make his point, he upended a few chairs on the pretense of looking for his belongings.

"No, I really don't think they're here," he said with a bright smile as the chairs clattered to the floor.  "You don't think you might've gotten the room wrong, do you Sergeant?  I didn't think Germany's troops would've gotten so sloppy.  But I'm sure it's just a simple mistake."