The tunnel was dark and damp, carved out of the wet compacted black soil twenty yards underground. About a yard and a half from floor to ceiling. As best I could approximate, it ran in a straight line northeast and continued beyond the range of the lightorb I’d thrown. The walls of the tunnel breathed quietly, surrounding me in the dripping, spidering roots of old forest trees high above.

I bent down to step into the passage, instantly immersing my feet in mud. When my toes brushed against something small and hard I reached to retrieve the object from the mire. It was a flat square, two inches on either side. I couldn’t see in the dark, but held onto the object and made my way closer to the lightorb to take a look. Along the way I found three other squares and I picked them up as well.

In the glow of the lightorb I identified the squares as Memories, each marked in the distinctive broken handwriting of Bag Man. Unfortunately, they were waterlogged — I’d have to wait till later to view them. I continued on.