Treat this knowledge in anyway you deem fit, but some would envy your situation. I would be having a better time of it with if I had your limbs.

[Until now Theseus had been content with mutual polite lack of acknowledgement toward their current bodily changes, but it's both a gripe as well as an attempt at a reassuring compliment. Theseus can just manage to keep up the lethal marathon with the stamina of a soldier who previously marched alongside their own army, but his transformation did not give him longer legs.

The palace is now their prison, its scale now feeling oppressive instead of opulent. The need to stay running makes it impossible to identify any milestones out of the endless procession of rooms they pass by.] If we stay close enough to the same direction, we should be guaranteed to reach the outside! [Eventually.]