He plucked a dim fruit and bit it, and the forest exploded into brilliant ultraviolet. The rift remained dark, and he knew what he had to do.
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She looked up, at seven moons arranged in a pattern. The stars behind were fractal, in spirals within spirals. She took a step, a slight crunch from the snow. There was nothing else, as far as the eye could see.
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Her eyes turned crystalline, and she hurried back to the rift before she could only see what others saw. She was too late.
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He landed on a boulder, floating. There were others, a mountain of floating stone. They were lit from below, ribbons of magma visible 10, 100, 1000 feet down through the gaps. An empty sky above.
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He screamed, as his face cracked to reveal the fiery currents within.
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