Ziggy waited for some time after he passed through the Edge. Having no idea whether he was moving at a great speed or completely motionless, he surveyed the vast empty white around him bemusedly. At times he even felt as if he was standing still, and eventually the complete and total nothing around him began to tax his impatient mind, opening up a litany of strange images to his senses.
But were they visions? For whether the roots growing from his feet or the foreboding clouds gathering just a short distance from his head were real or merely fantasy Ziggy could not tell; all frames of reference appeared to have dissipated. Ziggy's overactive mind drank in the images, until it seemed to content itself with objects of less form and color, swirling specters of hue and meaning that presented themselves to him without obligation.
One of the images seemed particularly persistent, and to match Ziggy's course (or at least remain motionless along with him) for some time. Ziggy regarded it, having long since decided not to settle the debate over its origin, along with his other companions.
Finally its movement slowed, leaving Ziggy to drift right past it before resuming its previous pace. Slowly, as if accustoming himself to light, Ziggy began to see a crude form in his odd companion as it made a most peculiar eye contact. It seemed to give Ziggy a minute to process this new development before he felt the creature's warmth and intelligence open itself to him, and speak into his mind.