Max cringed instinctively as they looked into the house. He wasn't sure what he expected, exactly. A yeti to arrive and punch his head off his shoulders. A net to fall from the ceiling. A Claymore mine. A magical fireball. None of these things occurred, however.

Curiosity began to override his caution, though. Here was something new, a gap in his knowledge. Without waiting to hear Azai's plan, he poked his head inside the house, breath fogging in the air. The entire place was in disarray, furniture knocked aside. Maybe there had been some sort of fight here? It didn't seem impossible. Or maybe a Summoning had gone wrong. That seemed possible. Many amateur magicians had gotten excited, reached beyond their grasp, brought something they weren't prepared for into this world. Often they paid the price. Max knew for a fact that at least three or four of the disasters reported by the press each year were a result of irresponsible and short-sighted Summonings. A pesticide leak in Hyderabad, a gas explosion in Norway, a sinkhole in Buenos Aires- hell, a snowstorm in Maine. 

He pulled out his Thermos, poured himself a little coffee in the cup on the lid. The hot beverage was greatly welcome- even the interior of this insulated house was freezing. "Anyone else?" he said, offering the Thermos to his companions. He leaned lightly on the stairs, but was taken aback by the loud creaking. "Looks like the tenant was worried about someone sneaking up on them," he remarked. "Nightingale floors, like in the old samurai castles in Kyoto. No one can walk through undetected."

Max noticed the bricked-up basement door and frowned. "Something is down there," he announced. The taste of copper was thick in the air. "We'll have to bust this down, with a sledgehammer or something. We'll have to be careful though. Very, very careful." Max leaned in closer, hoping to see if there was any runes or Wards or anything to accompany the heavy wall, anything that might indicate what was down there.