I collected the cables I found on the way. I roll them over my shoulder: they are the first thing I have carried with me since I arrived.
There is a substantial difference between following a path marked out by someone and building your own.

I am back at the same level as before, surrounded by pages and tangles of cables connecting them, but I am building new links between one point and another, discovering hidden pages with no communication.
These cables are my ship and I feel less lost.

Are they still here?

Is the person who connected all these pages still here?

I don’t know if looking for them is right: I might not find them or, even worse, find myself facing a dead body in the meanders of this place. I don’t think, however, that I can do otherwise.

What if they managed to get out of this place?

A light falters on the cave wall: I look up and a link swings in the distance. The movement is the same as the one links do when I hang to cross them.

I take the pile of cables from my shoulder and twirl the longer one. When it grabs on to the page I start to go up.