Mello nodded. "It'd have to be a computer system, to keep track of that much data." The thing was, if the computer were the control mechanism for things like the randomized doors, it was crazily advanced, and its components were undetectable: no wires, no cameras or sensors. No evidence of it at all that he had noticed. You're slipping, Keehl. That system's what you want. You should've been working on this since the day you woke up here, not wasting your time on the obvious places. Patient Possessions and the presumed storage place for their actual records and belongings, which he still hadn't reached, the computer even Matt couldn't crack, those were red herrings, and he'd fallen for them. He began drawing again, restlessly, a few sparse lines that would represent, eventually, as much of the Institute as he'd seen first-hand. Bloody inexcusable that he hadn't made this a priority. He still felt that whatever was used to drag the prisoners here in the first place had to physically exist, somewhere. The same went for this master system.

The question of where the hell they put things applied to the underground room, too. "You'd be exactly right. It's mostly empty. There are two other doors, wood, with angels and devils carved on them. The phrase that came to mind for me was 'Old World.'" He skipped to the bottom of the page he'd been drawing on, and made a quick circle, with the doors and pillars marked as he remembered them. A seemingly unrelated section of the Institute, where the fact that this was, at its core, a battle was at least nodded towards, instead of up here, where Landel seemed to delight in soppy talk about his fucking good will.

"Have you been in the basement when the doors're working the way they should?"