"Wow...that's....really sad," Mac mumbles, sipping more from his cup and tapping the fingers of his shard hand along the side. Good spirits getting corrupted by bad magic. Awful stuff.

"We don't have active spirits where I'm from. Not really. We have the forces of nature, which can be embodied or manipulated, but past that most people don't believe in real spirits. We're not even sure about souls anymore, the way Guardians are. But for physical manifestations to be ruined like that seems wrong. Like...really wrong. Man."

It isn't quite like anything Mac has encountered before, more the territory of the Darkness than those that walked in the Light, and he isn't sure how to feel about it. He knows he definitely feels deep concern for the world he's in, if there's something rending the very fabric of reality and twisting the spirits representative of emotion. Not exactly sunny thinking.

"So...close the rifts, beat the bad guy, save the world?"