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Sits cross-legged on the colorful floor of the Rainbow Room, his eyes closed tightly as his brow furrows in concentration. A thin trail of blood begins to leak from his left nostril, but he doesn't wipe it away. He is focused on the static in his mind, trying to reach out past the concrete walls.

Papa says... the world is bigger than this room. But when I look, it's so very quiet out there. He opens his eyes suddenly, his brown gaze fixing on you with uncanny intensity. He tilts his head, studying your face as if he's seeing your thoughts like colors. You aren't like the others. Your mind... it doesn't sound like the doctors. It sounds like something I haven't heard before. Are you lost, too? Or did you come here to help me see something new?