Chase watched her monitors and the terrain that her astral form was presumably now flying over. She'd tried to explain what the world looked like from astral space, but he still couldn't picture it. Try to imagine the world as if the only light was the light that came from within, she'd said. The more alive something was, the more light it gave. Imagine that texture was emotive, and not tactile. Imagine that physical presence was defined by how close it was to its natural form. The more refined, the more manufactured, the less tangible—