The Rift

There was no sky, no ground, yet he did not fall.  There was firmness below his feet, but just by thinking about it, he seemed to sink; looking up, he reached above him, and he rose slightly.  The Rift was chilly and thick, like after spring rain.  Blue, purple, red, and green, eddied throughout the rift around and through him.  An ethereal hum permeated everything, he felt poised as a crystal about to shatter from resonance.  It made him young, fearless, enthralled, virile, alive.  Steven set his jaw, and drew his revolver.  This was the domain of the Rift lords.