The party's observations of the surroundings show only the usual sights. There are crumbled rocks piled against a wall from a cave-in, and grooves on the walls as if from water flow over the years. All of these could easily be natural. It is hard to tell, isn't it?

Soon a greater oddity is found; the plain bedrock underfoot gains hints of color, like shattered glazed pots. On taking a closer look, it appears to be fragments of painted tiles - the broken remnants of a ceramic floor. Ahead, more tiles come together until the team walks on what was once a smooth, blue-tinted floor.

Around the bend, there is no denying the work of human hands; embedded in the cavern wall is a door in cold, dark metal. A worn statue arches over the doorway; its tail has been broken off and the head severed at the neck in a rockslide, but the form is hunkering and serpentine. Those who visited the museum in the Third District and saw the great Eidolons portrait will know that shape. In the heap of rock before the door, the likeness of Bahamut's head is lying on its side, mostly intact, its mouth open in a roar.

On getting closer, it appears the door has a locking mechanism. Unfortunately, age has not helped you here; the metal is solid and not rusted, though the doorframe does appear warped from the shifting earth around it, with cold air whistling through cracks in the top and sides.