"What is this place?" said the suited man.
"This place is made by the faint hope residing in those that inhabit it," responded the religious shaman.
"Someone would think the people here weren't made to have hope or worth for that matter," remarked the man.
"You're quite right, mechashef, though their hope still exists, it does so in matters that shouldn't be," replied the shaman.
"So, this is a non-representational vortex then?" asked the man in a curious tone.
"That be correct. This place exists only as a light that attracts those who are willing to see past their own misery," explained the shaman, confusing the suited man, who responded annoyed, "Christ, you dogs sure like to speak in tongues. Whatever, I have had enough of this place"
"Bear in mind that as this place attracts, it ultimately encages everyone in its own beacon. I am the only one who knows how to get out of this place," beckoned the shaman.
"I think I can find the exit on my own, thank you," said the annoyed man.
"As you wish," dismissed the shaman.