A sudden, mechanical hiss is heard as a slow mist of pinkish-orange gas begins to fill the chamber from ceiling downward. Another face appears through the white of the walls, badly digitized but somehow more comforting.

"Wait, just a moment, then. You'll be fine, just look for Vent 1-44A and follow it to the Special Detentions Division. We'll be waiting there for you."

With those words, your restraints go limp and dissolve instantly, and the floor beneath you opens up, and the four of you fall into a sickening sludge. Looking around, you can see what seems to be an intricate sewer system, but this isn't sewage it's running with. It's bits of people, sometimes large, disturbingly whole bits. Hatches line the wall every few hundred feet, and the nearest you can find reads 1-22A. Above you, pink-orange mist falls down slowly into the sewers, and you can hear mechanical sounds of cutting and grinding.