With a shimmer, Orcelito switches back to Tactician, pocket watch returned to his coat. Joining Klonoa at the tunnel entrance, he can’t help a nagging thought that the ramp would be awfully accessible for rolling objects of the rocks/logs/spikey ball variety. He directs a light into the passage, hunting for scrapes or markings along the walls.

“Why was it flooded, do you think? Weren’t people supposed to pass through here?”