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[Weren't planning on getting out alive. The quiet part of him still isn't sure if he's grateful to have clawed his way out or not.

Clawed his way out?

He isn't out yet.

Or maybe he is, was, would be?

Krieg's head hurts.]

Doooooor. [He grunts it, nodding even if it makes his head ache. Shredding the place alive is appealing in its own right, but -

But first he wants to get out. He follows the alcohol demon, eyes raking the sides of the walls in search of an exit.]

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