Shaw has never had so much as a cold here outside of death tolls, and given that she hasn't just recently died, she is highly suspicious that something is up when she wakes up in the morning and feels like absolute crap. Hauling herself out of bed and splashing some water on her face does nothing; neither does having some leftover white rice for breakfast. The steady undercurrent within her that's urging her to Go, go, go is the only other anomaly, and she quickly finds that when she listens to it (by approaching the door, by opening the door, by stepping out into the hallway), the malaise decreases by degrees. She may not know the why here, but the what isn't hard to figure out. God. Fine.

Without bothering to change out of the tank top and sweatpants that she'd slept in, she slips on some shoes and heads down from Level 1.