Wran brightens up considerably at your suggestion, and they were already pretty dang luminous to begin with.
"Okay!" they say, "I've got... a dozen or so more places I was planning on checking out today-"
"Excuse me, you've got how many?"
"I like to be thorough. So yes, you take the last half dozen, I take the first and we meet up at..." they check the name, "... yes, at the Hollow of Infinitesimal Pillars. Is that all right with you?"
"Can't be that difficult, right?"
"Right! Later, then?"
"Later then!" you cut the connection and consult the list. Luckily Wran seems to have taken some time to order it in something resembling a sensible itinerary, although starting from the last one is gonna take you... somewhere past the edge of the north side, right where it begins to transition into the color-clouds. Gonna be a bit of a long haul. Luckily you've been getting used to traveling around, and the play of shadows on the streets is a language you're coming to understand better by the day. Fading into darkness, you flit along at a fair clip, and in only slightly more than an hour you manage to find the place.
Behind the historic curtain wall marking the edge of a god-city aeons old, built from the bones of heroes tried and found wanting by That Which Conquers All, perhaps not so much a god as an inescapable personification of entropic doom. Your own family history's full of those, although they didn't build any curtain walls out of the bones they harvested from the unwary, mostly they just kept quiet and ate a lot during the few big gatherings your dad took you to see. Beyond the bleached and sterile wall there are the color-sinks, the parts of the undercity where the ratio of matter and energy is a little less favorable to you than usual. The wall, whose remains still stretch a mile in each direction before becoming lost in the sprawl, provides a comfy cool shade on this side.
On the other side it's a different story - the color-clouds coil and race along the horizon and gather in standing lakes as well as arching rivers, tied down only slightly by the brave but misguided architectural efforts of local slumlords in providing oases of stable matter, all but a few of which have fallen into disrepair and abandonment as their power costs proved too steep for marginalized divinity to afford and the physics too wonky for the gentrification pantheons to really move in. The landscape is barren of life as you know it, but vibrant with bright and radiant far-off things you've scarcely seen the like of in your entire existence.
Somewhere in there is the place you're looking for, and you don't think you wanna look for it. The mere distant glare of the color-clouds makes your body itch in all the wrong places.
A) Yeah no, screw this. Place checked, let's move on.
B) Grit your teeth and get in there.
C) Get in there, but create a shade for yourself just in case (use 1 Power).