The fourth gate was grey coded.
Victor stood in front of it with a nutrition bar in his hand, finishing it without tasting it, watching the gate the way you watch something you have already decided about. His reserves from the three-dungeon run were not fully recovered — he had eaten, drunk water, sat against the corridor wall for twenty minutes while his generation rate did what it could with the time available.
Not full. Workable.
He crumpled the wrapper, pocketed it, and went in.
The wind hit him before he had fully crossed the threshold.
