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 is webbed with a thousand travelling of red and lick along the then rise to the
we he shouts into the dark. we
