There's something horrifyingly fascinating about the images on the walls, the way the bones clink together to form approximations of people, of things, some with too many arms. They lumber around with no real purpose.

It isn't real enough to look like they're going to actually come out of the walls, but Kabal isn't going to wait around to find out. He is thoroughly unsettled by this in a way that he's not been for decades.

He agrees completely. They should not be here.

Eyes flick to Carlisle who is holding his head as if it might explode. His experience with sorcerers is limited and terrible, but that can't be good. From their little blow up previous he doesn't want to see what happens if Carlisle actually loses control and starts rotting everything with reckless abandon.

He swipes at him, meaty arm around that very scrawny frame, dragging him like a skeletal sack of potatoes back the way they came. Carlisle is extremely light, he feels emaciated. But that's a fleeting thought because Kabal just wants to get the fuck out of there right the hell now.

Once back in the flooded hallway he sets Carlisle down almost carefully, "Still with me?"