Not quite sold on the idea of following the grim reaper underground, Charlotte hesitated for a moment. Going through some sort of inner monologue no less, picking apart the reasons why it would most likely not be dangerous. It was a weird thing to happen to her, as normally fear wasn't part of her masked-up periods at all. And though fear still wasn't quite the right word to describe what kept her, it came close. It felt as though a small part of her was in awe of what lied ahead, and while the stronger part could easily force her down those stairs, it decided to ease the process by listing all the logical reasons why she'd already be dead if death truly was after her. The nervous tapping of her foot let small swirls of smoke depart from the cloud at her feet.
After what felt like an eternity, the girl with the gas mask approached the shed. A fleeting look to the side was made, to ensure that her vehicle and luggage wasn't autonomously escaping, then she stepped into the surprisingly cool shadows of the building. Due to the less windy conditions inside and her slightly excited mood, it didn't take long until a noticeable trail of smoke marked her path through the small interior. Unlike the reaper, she didn't feel the other presence here, and so she simply moved deeper into the complex until she found an elevator, oddly out of place.
"Here goes nothing.", she muttered to herself when the doors slid open seconds later and she followed the same path the other visitors went. During the trip down the elevator cabin almost entirely filled with her smoke-emission, giving her a momentary advantage over what might welcome her on the other side and most importantly: confidence. Gripping the pistol tighter and with both hands, she waited, waited. A small chime the harbinger of her arrival and the doors opened. During the time it took the wall of smoke to fall out of the elevator, she scanned the room, analysed that there was no immediate threat present, and let the handgun disappear before anyone could lay eyes on it. Misfit in this little cheery get-together, the oppressive figure stepped out of the elevator, her heavy, sand-crusted boots palpably damaging the modern interior of the room. For some reason, the high-tech scenery below that forsaken shed didn't phase her as much, likely because the encounter with Penn set the standard for surprises relatively high. The only sound coming from her was her breath, heavy and audible through the mask as she took details about the people present. Trying to discern who of them was the reaper, too.