You hear a chuckle from Renault—less comforting than it might have been, considering you're unable to see its origin. "Well," he says eventually, "you can't say they didn't call it."
You know that the two of you are talking simply to talk. Now more than ever, it seems important to keep your spirits up: something that's likely even more vital for Renault, in view of his general lack of vitality.
Before you can complete this thought, your vision clears, or perhaps it's merely a physical darkness that has been removed as opposed to a defect of your own eyes.
What you're presented with, as you look around, is…
Normal.
The pair of you are standing in a tunnel, with walls, ceiling, and floor formed out of jagged, irregular rock. Other than the torches set in the wall, which burn with an odd crimson flame, you might be in any stone tunnel within a mountain or beneath the earth.
Beside you, Renault has descended, placing his feet upon the ground. Whether this has been imposed upon him or whether he has taken up this station purely for effect, you have no idea.
He glances at you. "Were you expecting something else?"
You shrug. "I saw different things in my visions. Fire, damnation, agony. It was all a bit more…shocking."
The ghost offers a careless nod. "There's hell, and then there's hell on earth," he states. "If this Renzfal breaks loose…I think that's when we'll see the full effect. Or," he adds, "I will. I'm not sure what your chances of survival are when it comes to standing at ground zero."
You personally feel like you have an extremely good idea of what your chances of survival would be, though you don't bother to reply. Once you've got over your initial shock at your location's banality, you've started to notice more and more elements that seem out of place. There's a scent of smoke in the air that's slowly, yet steadily, growing in strength. The crimson-flamed torches are also bothering you: despite the moderate light that they're giving forth, there's not a single surface against which your shadow is cast.
You turn to look at Renault, aware that he's said something. "What was that?"
"I was asking," the ghost says, quite patiently, "what you hope that people will say about you if you die." He offers a faint smile. "It's not inappropriate for me to ask you," he points out. "Another advantage of being vitally challenged."
You give the question an appropriate amount of thought.