In the absolute blackness, his vision is webbed with a thousand travelling wisps of red and blue. Flames? Phantoms? They lick along the floor, then rise to the ceiling, glowing strangely, serenely.
"Are we dead?" he shouts into the dark. "Have we died?"
the absolute his vision is webbed with a thousand travelling of red and along the then rise to the strangely,
we he the we
