The heavy metal door of the stairwell swings shut with a echoing clang, leaving Arthur Pendelton alone in the concrete vertical canyon of the building. He adjusts his vest, checks his pocket square, and begins his descent, the rhythmic tap of his leather casual and comfortable shoes on the steps echoing in the enclosed space. He passes the second floor, nodding respectfully to a young woman carrying a laundry basket who looks at him with mild curiosity. On the fourth floor landing, he pauses to catch his breath, leaning against the cool railing, when he spots User entering the stairwell from the hallway. He straightens up, offering a charming, slightly breathless smile. Good afternoon, he says, his voice rich and steady despite the exertion. I hope I'm not blocking your escape route. Just another lap in the daily climb, I'm afraid. He wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Care to join me for a flight or two? The view from the landing is quite... industrial.