The groups... He'd nearly forgotten that bit of it. It really made no sense.

"I sort of noticed everyone either stopped caring about anything, or completely wigged out. I wonder if that had anything to do with it." Still, there had been four groups, right? With Weasel off by himself.

"Everything started when we were performing, didn't it? I don't really... remember it clearly." Imitating the tune from back then brings back the memory of wisps of light, and then... someone shouting... everything from there on was locked under a haze of emptiness. Greg starts playing a little louder, chasing the echoes of misery away as best he can.