Lemm is halfway up the stairs, hand smoothing almost reverently along the rail, with its patina worn off or prevented from so much crowd contact and returning slowly to green as the City decays - he is distracted, lost in the details of it, when something ripples and he misses a step.

It is abrupt, he hits his foot on the next one, and doubles over a little before snapping upright and looking around at the room, jerky and... harrowed, over the rail.

The fear is masked, very quickly, and he ducks his head and climbs the stairs with far less wonder and far more pragmaticism. Less joy, more task.