Chris ponders a bit, "Well, the communication cortex is at the end of a series of organic and confusing mazes and guarded by a huge minotaur at the end of the Crystal Plexus where the old Gods commune on the Astral plane. As you can see I know my way around here," They came across a rickety rope-bridge, and Chris tests the stability of it. It seems sturdy enough, "So any questions about why I'm here and what I am exactly?" Chris smiles in a coltish fashion.