This isn't where Lambert's intended to end up, though it's not as though he had anything specific in mind in the first place. He'd worried about the shadows other had reported on the radio, but he's heading away from the Carnival, not towards it, searching desperately for any sign of the Curator or Scribe -- a tall order, for any entities with no form.

Still, it's their realm, and they're its rulers. If there are unwanted intruders -- assuming this isn't some damn trick of the place itself, as full of those as it is -- they have the best chance of ejecting them.

All-seeing-shield strapped to his back, sword in hand, Lambert's too busy looking around to see when his foot steps right into darkness ... and steps out somewhere else.

"Ah, fuck." Yeah, that really is all there is to say.