After multiple dead-ends and what seemed like millions of random turns, they came to a hall, but instead of merely containing pictures, it also included three doors. Each had a separate color, blue, red, and a yellow one farther down, that seemed as if it would cave in at any moment. Ib shifted away from the golden hued gateway, and Garry nodded. "Let's check that one last." He softly spoke, walking towards the blue door, his hand, outstretched, and clutched the knob. Attempting to open the door, Garry got a creak and multiple clicks; the door voicing it was locked. Walking to the red door, he repeated his previous actions. This door, unlike the blue one, swung open with little effort, and Ib entered, Garry following behind.
A vase, placed crookedly on a table, sat in the corner near the door, and though it was empty, Garry made sure to memorize its presence. Multiple rows of shelves were strategically placed throughout the room, allowing a thin path to be walked through each row. Ib's curiousity peaked, and she looked to Garry, then to the stacks. "We should check them, just in case." Ib quickly went to inspect the labyrinth of shelves. Some of them held books, others held random objects, and some were entirely empty. Still, the two investigated EVERY case thoroughly, quietly focused on their task. There was nothing out of the ordinary, though all of the books focused mainly on art.
Garry found a book focusing on Guertena's works, and quickly flipped through it, searching for the M's. Finally coming to it, she searched for the title 'Mary' the painting who'd lied, and even attempted to kill him. He'd come in contact with a similar book, from which he learned the blonde girl's true identity. Instead of displaying the picture and information on the painting and the artists inspiration for the creation, it merely stated 'Little is known about this image. Though some say it is a painting made by Guertena in his last few years, there is no proof of this painting even existing.' In that moment, he heard a clang, and a yelp.
Letting out a startled cry himself, he ran towards the noise, worried for the sake of young Ib. After a moment, he released his breath, seeing she'd only stumbled on the edge of a smaller shelve, and it had tilted over, leaning against the wall. Quickly assisting the thin girl out of the tunnel of books, before they came tumbling down. With a sigh, the two of them sat down, amongst the piles of books, oblivious to the overly familiar paint that trailed down the tipped shelf, letters formed in it's cerulean color.