At the top of the lighthouse, there is darkness. The lantern that burned so fiercely from outside is nothing but a timid flame in a bubble of glass. Is it a metaphor? Is it an allegory for your journey?

You feel nausea.

Clutching the orb of glass in your hand, your shadow is sent weakly spilling across the ocean. The rocks at the base of the lighthouse are now gone entirely. The waters climb the stone tower with predatory intent. It is time to go.