It's especially tricky given the walkway is wet. Donnie has to grab the thin railing a few times after a few more slips past the freshly dampened areas, trying to hide a wince from the warm metal beneath his bare feet. It's not doing his already sore legs any favors, but so long as they don't suddenly decide to sprout into bird legs and talons again, he'll do his best to deal.

Eventually he stumbles towards the end where the storage platform is, thankfully dry as the pipes snake off to the sides or higher, keeping it relatively less moist. Still, the constant steam and general presence of water hasn't done the space much favors, rust staining the walls and coloring most of the metal that makes it up so it's impossible to tell what it might have originally been. There are shelves of deteriorating boxes and a few larger crates on the floor with assorted parts, a few on the floor itself. A few gauges are set into the wall but they look hopelessly broken, whatever safe levels had been set, long since passed. Donnie has to wonder how this place hasn't just exploded by now.