The thing about death and dying is not that it is scary or unnerving. In fact, it is wholly and entirely pleasant once you have departed from life and you come to terms with it. That is what YOU have done, but it could also be owed to your lack of prior experience. YOU, of course, are dead. However, YOU did not exist beforehand. This is because you have yet to have been separated from the dead and made into something new. A fascinating process.

  In front of you stand three paths. There is CHAOS, TORMENT and BENEVOLENCE. This is nothing new, because for all who are dead, these paths are haunting. There is a heaven, and a hell- insofar that both paths lead you back to life.

  YOU thought this was quite stupid, so YOU are on the third path. It is as advertised, and YOU cannot say you’re surprised. Maybe if YOU were alive or had a life before this in full. Unfortunately, each life YOU’VE tried to lead has been miserably short- in that YOU have never once escaped infancy. It was only by the grace of your repeated plunges into the Knowing Void that YOU possessed any intelligence at all, and even YOU were aware that it could be considered… fragmentary, at best. At worst, YOU did what YOU were doing right now. Going on prolonged tangents while emphasizing YOUR sense of self, lest you lose everything.

  Stolen story; please report.

  As if to strike you for this insolence, YOU stumbled on the pathway of BENEVOLENCE, and proceeded to faceplant into a not-quite third dimensional construct. This was, in YOUR humble mind, absolutely unprecedented. Who has enough baggage upon death to litter in the paths?! To leave these… bits and bobs, strewn about the pitch black hills.

  So furious were YOU that YOU began to stray from the paths, picking up the constructs wherever you could find them. As you did, YOU became… just you. For not even those metaphorically deep-fried in Knowledge knew everything, and in your defense, you lacked quite a deal of actual experience.

  (Or at least, that’s what you’d say in hindsight.)

  As you pried those concepts from the void, they crystallized around your furious self. Meshing, melding, making you something new. Glittery and full of hatred.

  When you were entirely coated in crystalline constructs that didn’t quite abide by the laws of the land, the strangest thing occurred.

  You poofed.

  Not in an ‘I no longer physically exist’ way, but rather in a ‘time to live’ way. For you had reached the end of no path in particular, something exceedingly odd but potentially incredibly fun. To the Void, at least. It’s not every day a child-soul with such bad luck becomes saturated in pure energy.

  And you were born, crystalline and slightly more than three-dimensional, wedged firmly in solid rock on the tip of a mountain. The first of your kind in the Nameless World.