"There's a way through, over here." Your companion's voice fails to illicit a response as your mind focuses on the endless void repelling your flashlight's brilliance.
"Hand me your shovel!" the voice demands. You break free of your trance, and rush over to aid your friend. You hand over your shovel, and in no time, dirt begins sailing through the air.
A short time passes, carried by the constant digging. Again you focus on the long tunnel, the route not taken. Suddenly, the digging stops.