"I..."

Eleanor sways a little. Her Sisters have seen this before, on the vessel that bore them out of Rapture, when she was worrying over her father, when the world is just too much. They gently tug on her sleeves, and Eleanor sits heavily, cross-legged and dazed. She has seen something beyond her understanding, beyond an explanation her mind can conjure, and it's beautiful. So terribly, gloriously, overwhelmingly beautiful.