Agents are a kind of being in my world which are made entirely of dense solid magic. They are basically a walking hot spot, exhaling more magic than they breathe in, connected to it in such a way that it wells up in them. Because of this they are somewhat disconnected from the rat race of survival and are absurdly powerful and can exert magical control over the environment effortlessly.
Because their bodies and minds resonate with magic around them and within each other, their senses are ridiculous and overwhelming and they see into each other’s minds whenever they are near each other.
They live in a thought-scape, transmitting images to each other and becoming strange through decades of introspection and abstraction, that would make it a struggle to communicate with humans if more than a tiny handful ever tried.
Every Agent looks unique because their physical appearance is an expression of their personal symbolism, their feelings, history and ideas. They don’t need any sensory organs because all their senses are really through magic, so even whether they have eyes or not is really about whether they FEEL like a being with eyes. This is involuntary, they have little to no control over their appearance.
They aren’t exactly a species in the sense other sapients are, they are more like a side effect of how the magic system works - magic can just sort of make minds happen, because it is a medium of energy and transmission of information. Have enough neurons in one place, you get a brain.
Agents are what happens when you have so much magic in one place they become inevitable, like a fire happening where you just have an excess amount of kindling and sparks.
They’d be god-like if they cared.