"Ah," Natalya said, "a young hero. I do feel better, then. Still, I agree with you." Her eyes narrowed, memories of the end of the conflict in Rapture turning over in her mind. Bodies cast in plaster paraded as statues, breaking apart in a hail of gunfire.

"Of all the buildings he could have arrived in, Frolic... I truly hate that place." The sound of the water rushing around them and then the quiet muffling of all noise as they hit the depths irked her. She did not like being so far from the sky.

"At least its station is still operational," she murmured as the bathysphere slid along the track toward the dimly glowing neon and the still highly improbable sight of art deco sky scrapers rising from the deep.