Rich had been listening to Caitlin speak, had watched as the latter cautioned Zen lightly; he had seen it in the narrowing of her eyes, and had been attuned to her final results on the experiments she had been conducting for the past few days, when he heard the voice. The voice that turned his life, as he knew it, upside down.
Haunting, mystical notes of laughter hung in the air like silver and gold, shimmering with fire. He actually felt the notes; he actually saw the notes, saw the silver and gold dancing in front of his eyes. His mind stopped dead in its tracks, whilst shock ripped through him.
Then, his eyes caught the painting on the wall. The beautiful artistic component was edged with red and hues of green. It had been well over three centuries since he had seen anything in color. It was another fate of the ancients he wasn't exactly proud of.
