The corner was noted with a long look as he crossed the space towards were Malcolm had stopped before he swiveled his eyes back to the burned husk of shelves. He didn't say anything as he strode forward, picking up one of the green lanterns as he went. The same type, in fact, that caused the still healing wound on his palm.

"How old do you think some of these books are," he said, taking his time as he properly investigated the spines. "Lead the way but take it slow. Last time I was in here, everythin' was whisperin' and I hadn't seen the sun in three days. Didn't have quite the sense of mind to take in everything."