At the sound of his voice, Myra opens her eyes, but simply watches a wayward cloud passing overhead as his whisper reaches her. She feels a small pit open in her stomach as she hinges on his words and is finally enlightened, in part, to the issue. Carefully she sits up, the shuffling of her cloths almost too loud as she looks over at his form that appears almost calm and meditative. Now though, she can see that behind the repose and the reflection, there is far more.

Myra has no form of reference to this world besides the one she's visited, and she can hardly fathom a place where even the Shadow struggles to fight against crime.