He stuck close to the wall, so that his fur was just brush against the rock. When openings came, he passed them - cells, most likely, but if not he would investigate later. It wasn't until he felt the wall fully open out and the smell, familiar and open, touched his nose, that he stopped.

Fungus again spread out from where he stood, the dim green light barely enough to see - barely, but it gave enough light for his eyes to reflect and show him at least a little of what he was trying to perceive beyond.

Another cistern.

Anubis's dim glow illuminated a difference, however: this one's gemstone grate had been shattered, at some point. Judging by the hanging ceiling, by a falling chunk of stone. Half of it was still intact and blocked the hole below: but the back third or so was broken, smashed free, so that someone could simply leap the dangerously long drop to the space beneath.

There was no telling if the drop was the same distance, here, or if the slope was the same as the last. But below the broken space, the tip of the huge chunk of fallen stone could be seen, perhaps six feet below, though its base was lost to the shadows.

@Anubis

There was a moderate disappointment that this was just another cistern, like the other. Anubis noted the break for further investigation - not now, of course, there was much more of the prison to explore.

He sniffed and turned, not bothering this time to check for memories - undoubtedly, he'd find the same. He was interested in where those sloped tunnels ended up - a pit down below, perhaps? Did they meet together or end up elsewhere?

For now, he returned to the intersection - making sure to trail the fungus this time, and turned, continuing down the original corridor he had diverted from.

Once Anubis reached the previous corridor, again, he would find two more cells to either side--and then yet another junction in the vast dark.

To the right, a tunnel that felt, somehow, more stuffy than the last. It was broad, but there was no flow of air or scent of water.

To the left, one that had a strange, stale scent, like ancient dust; the faintest echo of what sounded like dripping came from this direction, too.

And forward, myriad smells and sounds. Different odors of stone, of water, of something organic too, and dust. Air flowed, this way. Not enough to be called even a breeze, but it wasn't quite as still as in the last few corridors.

@Anubis

He lifted his nose to the air, sniffing carefully, eyes narrowed. This was when the prison would start turning into a labyrinth, with many different corridors to explore, with numerous paths to take. He was interested in that faint stuffiness, and wondering what that dripping could be, wondering if he should just continue straight until the end of this corridor and double back but...hmmm, he could become lost so easily.

But that faint air flow is what did his mind in. He continued forward, still marking the path back to the entrance with an extra bit of growth, like a trail of arrows pointing his direction back to the surface.

The brightness of these mushrooms was enough to give him a glow along the walls, instead of the faintest patches of light along the floor.

The path ahead was more corridor. A bit of rubble lay some distance ahead, after about three doorways on the left--more square cells. To the right, however, almost immediately, a much larger doorway opened: a crumbled, yawning gap, where an opening had been worn much larger by time. Just past it were piles of rubble, a fallen, shattered column of stone blocking some of the way... and light, somewhere beyond? It was faint, but it glimmered along the rubble within, and there was a distant dripping that echoed in a way that suggested a large, open space.

It was up to Anubis whether to enter that space to his right and investigate the light and rubble, or to continue forward down the tunnel ahead.

@Anubis

He paused as his eyes caught that bit of light in their periphery. He turned, ears up and nose active. He could feel his reserves of energy beginning to wane - part of him wanted to continue onwards, but he wondered how long this corridor was, and if he would even make it to the end before he could cast no more. And this light...oh, he had to go see what it was.

He turned and focused his magic to fruit one mushroom, larger then most of the others he'd made, so that its glow was stronger. He leaned forward and carefully plucked it from the ground before turning and trotting into the opening, towards the distant, unknown source of light.

The rubble that stood between Anubis and the light would take some work to get around; winding between, or clambering over, either would take some effort. He'd find himself in a space as large as a few dozen of the cells: massive, open, yet with other walls to his left and farther on, in his way to the right. He could skirt around them, though a great deal of rubble was in his way there, too.

If he managed to reach the center of the room--rather a journey given the catastrophic amount of debris--he'd have a better sense of both its scale and layout. A huge space, walled-off sections around its edges double the size of the usual cells, their much larger entryways half worn and fallen away. Huge chunks of stone lay here and there, fallen away.

The entire back of the room was simply gone. Sharp ledges indicated a space where the foundation of this place had long ago crumbled, pitching its floors and walls in cascades of stone over millennia until they'd piled up somewhere far below. Here there was a dripping, and even a quieter flow of water, audible off of the ledge. And the entire area was lit by light: in places, here, the ceiling had collapsed, the rock into which the prison had been built not apparently very tall in this location. No water ran down into it, but it was audible down below, a light flow; and the scent of it, and of plants, was strong here.

Should Anubis risk a glance down off the ledge, he'd see an extremely far drop, with piles of the fallen room creating a labyrinth of water-flooded rubble, and plants having taken root wherever the light reached it.

Whatever was in the larger structures along the sides of this room would not be visible unless he investigated past their collapsed, darker entrances.

@Anubis

He pushed and squeezed through what gaps he could find, fighting his way through the rubble, careful to keep his light source intact, until the room opened up and he was looking at...destruction.

Disappointing but also amusing. So the prison was not utter darkness after all, nor was it fully enclosed, huh? But what purpose this room might have served was utterly lost in the collapse. There was nothing else, just...the drop. Which he did dare, carefully, oh so very carefully, creep up to the edge, low to the ground, and glance over, ever so slightly.

He pulled away, in case any more of the foundation came free, and when he felt safe once again, he cast that magical lens to see the past, to show him what the room looked like, and its purpose was, in the time when the prison was functioning.

Magic...didn't respond. He was tired, mentally, but ever-stubborn in his work and ever-thirsting for knowledge, he refused to give in to something as simple as fatigue. There was more to see. More past to uncover. So he tried again.

It wasn't much better, but at least he felt some kind of grip on his magic past his exhaustion. It would be enough, hopefully.