Night 49: Basement - Grand Ballroom
[from here]
He somehow managed to fight back a sigh, though his exasperation was probably pretty obvious. Matt wasn't stupid, and he wasn't patient; he knew that something was up, something Mello obviously didn't feel like sharing at the moment. However, he wasn't the type to just roll over and accept bullshit - especially when his radar for it was going off like mad.
Instead, he figured he could press some of Mello's much more obvious buttons, until the prat decided to 'fess up. Taking a deep breath, he darted around Mello, slipping right past him as he opened the door and stepped through it ahead of him again. As he did, he made sure to pay close attention to his reaction - well. As close as he could, considering the mostly debilitating disorientation, no matter how brief it was.
When he stepped back out, blinking furiously as he fought back more nausea, Matt took as quick a look around as he could manage. Swallowing another cough, his eyes widened at the sheer enormity of the room laid out before them, and the sheer shininess of it. The ceiling was so high that it seemed endless, and the beam of his flashlight bounced off the dark, reflective flooring, seeming to light up the rest of the room rather effectively. He had to wonder, really, where they were now, because this didn't seem like a room that could fit in the Institute.
"Uh, Mello," he said; it was weird how his words seemed to echo ever so slightly. "We're not in Crazyland anymore." Or are we? Hard to tell, with all the jumping around they'd been doing; Matt was starting to notice symptoms of whiplash.