[There's no way he could turn back now, even though he's close to when he should be meeting Wing. But this is too, well, beautiful, for someone who hasn't had a lot of beautiful things in his life, and he follows, almost as if bewitched.

[He raises a hand as he steps fully inside the nearly spherical space, fingertips brushing the geometric points of crystal, watching the glow. There seems to be no shadow here, too many light sources from all directions. It almost blinds him, for a moment, before his optics cycle down, and he notices the objects.]

[Drift brushes the book, with one finger, wincing as it nearly crumbles under his touch.He looks up, as though the lighted bugs could answer.]

Where did they go, these people?