I felt nothing at first, just the strange touch of a glass-like light. It was as if the scene in front of blurred and then suddenly changed. The light passed through , and in its place appeared a new world.
Everything glowed softly, and the ground beneath my feet was made of smooth, shining marble that stretched endlessly, as far as my eyes could see.
I stood there, staring at the horizon. It was pure white, and nothing else was in sight except for a thin, sharp line where the sky seed to et the ground.
The sight felt unreal, like I had stepped into a painting.
"Wh-where am I?" I managed to whisper, though my voice felt small in the vast, silent space.
My head was spinning, and my senses felt jumbled, unable to make sense of this strange place.
But even through the confusion, one thing was clear—this wasn't a dream.
"This place is where desires et consequences, where you stand at the junction of choices, Ryan."
'!?'
The words startled , spoken by a male voice that seed to co from everywhere at once.
It was calm but firm, as though it held so great truth.
But what shocked even more was that it called by na.
Ryan.
The na felt distant, like it had been locked away in my mind.
I quickly turned toward the voice, my heart pounding, but before I could react further, a loud, panicked shout echoed around .
"NO! HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN?"
I spun around to see that sa black dressed woman half sitting with knee bent on the smooth marble floor, her entire body trembling.
Her hands clutched at her hair, pulling in frustration, and her face was pale and twisted in anger and despair.
She looked completely lost, muttering under her breath like she had made a terrible mistake.
Her panic reminded of employees at my company after they had ruined an important project.
"...This," I muttered, my eyes instinctively following the direction where the woman sat, her hands clenching her hair in frustration. As I turned, my gaze shifted away from the endless horizon and landed on sothing massive—a wall so vast it seed to stretch beyond comprehension.
It wasn't just a wall. It was lined with enormous doors—no, gates. So were crafted from white marble, adorned with inscriptions in strange and ancient languages. Others burned with fire, their surfaces alive with flickering flas.
A few glead as if made of pure gold, each etched with symbols that felt familiar yet foreign.
The designs on these gates reminded of religious scriptures, as if every door represented a different belief from across the world.
But the number of gates was overwhelming, far beyond what I could count. So appeared corroded, covered in rust, or cracked as though they had endured centuries of neglect.
Others were shattered entirely, leaving jagged edges behind.
Just as I was beginning to process this strange sight, my shock deepened. My eyes fell on a figure standing in front of the gates.
He wore a white suit paired with polished black shoes, but the jacket was split evenly into black and white halves. The stark contrast made him look both elegant and unsettling.
And then I noticed his face.
He looked exactly like .
No—he was .
"Who are you?" I blurted out, unable to keep the surprise from my voice. My eyes narrowed as they locked onto his, a mix of shock and unease surging through .
I had read plenty of fantasy books, but experiencing sothing like this felt entirely different. It was overwhelming, too real to dismiss as a story.
"I am all that you've been, all that you are, and all you may beco," he replied smoothly, a faint smile playing on his lips.
His hands rested casually in his pockets as he stepped closer. The way he spoke made my head spin, his words cryptic and heavy with aning.
I opened my mouth to question him further, but before I could, the woman's angry yell cut through the stillness like a knife.
"DAMN YOU!"
Startled, I turned back to see her on her feet, her expression wild with fury. She stord toward , her hand grabbing my collar.
For a mont, I felt her grip—but then her body passed straight through mine, like smoke dispersing into the air.
"WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU TELL !" she scread, her voice echoing in the vast, empty space. Her glare burned into , her frustration and anger directed solely at .
I froze, unable to understand what she ant. My mind raced as I tried to connect her words to anything that made sense.
Her rage was tangible, and it felt like it was sohow tied to .
"I-I DON'T DESERVE TO BE HERE! I WAS JUST DOING MY WORK!"
"Because shortcuts often lead nowhere worthwhile," the man replied calmly, his voice cutting through the chaos like a steady breeze.
I turned to see him just a few steps away, his smile unchanged. His presence was unsettling, yet commanding, and his cryptic words only added to the confusion swirling in my mind.
"Y-YOU GUPTA!" the woman spat, her eyes darting toward him. I noticed the shift in her tone—one of anger mixed with sothing else. Fear?
In a sudden, jarring move, she bowed deeply before him, her body bending at a perfect ninety degrees.
The sight sent shivers throughout my translucent body.
I didn't know who she was, but the way she bowed felt unnatural.
It was as if death itself was begging for rcy.
"Please," she said, her voice trembling. "Do sothing. I don't want to lose my job."
The man barely acknowledged her. Instead, he glanced back at , his smile faint but unbroken.
"Even the smallest spark carries the potential of the fire it ca from," he murmured, almost as if he were explaining sothing to . "She could be called death, probably."
His words only made things harder to understand, my mind struggling to keep up with everything happening.
But one thing stood out—Gupta.
That's what the woman had called him.
"Ugh, is this your final decision?!" she demanded, her voice rising again. Her frustration was clear, though the man hadn't said a word in response. He simply smiled, his eyes closing briefly as if dismissing her entirely.
Then, as if on instinct, the woman turned to . Her expression was desperate, her voice sharp as she barked, "Hey, human, tell them it was a mistake and you're fine with it!"
Her words reminded of office routines, where managers often shifted bla onto their employees to cover up their own mistakes. That sa manipulative tone was now directed at , and for a mont, my reflexes kicked in.
But this ti, sothing inside rebelled. I stood firm, eting her desperate gaze, and replied, "Why would I?"
"...."
"How dare a re human—"
Her words carried a weight that made my chest tighten. The atmosphere grew heavy, and I could feel an oppressive fear building inside . It wasn't the kind of fear I could simply shake off.
No, this was deeper, primal, as if my very instincts were reacting to sothing far beyond my control.
I'd often heard people say that fear exists only in the mind, that it's sothing you can overco with rationality.
But this wasn't like that.
This fear wasn't rational or logical.
It was instinctive, like my brain was conjuring an illusion so powerful it felt real, sothing inborn and impossible to ignore.
"Anger—is this how reapers should behave?"
The man's voice cut through the suffocating tension like a blade.
His words were calm, but they carried an authority that made even the air feel heavier.
The woman flinched visibly at his words, her hands retreating as if burned.
She quickly folded her arms, her eyes darting away from as though ashad—or afraid.
Sothing about his tone seed to have reminded her of a rule she'd broken, and it was clear she feared him far more than anything else in this strange place.
Her earlier aggression had vanished completely. She now stood silent and tense, her defiance replaced with a forced obedience.
I watched this unfold with growing unease.
Until now, she had referred to as "human" with an air of superiority, barely acknowledging as anything significant.
But the way she reacted to him revealed sothing deeper, sothing that made my thoughts spiral as I pieced things together.
Reaper.
The man had called her a reaper.
Bits of information started to click in my mind like a chain reaction: her earlier words about not deserving to be here, the strange glowing place I was in, the countless doors and gates, and the way the man had spoken so cryptically about consequences and karma.
Death, Gupta, reaper, a place of destiny...
I ca to a chilling conclusion.
'N-no, it's—'
My thoughts raced as my eyes scanned the room once more, lingering on the massive gates, each inscribed with symbols and languages I couldn't fully understand.
So doors were pristine, others broken or decayed.
They lood over like silent judges, each one a possible destination.
It hit like a bolt of lightning.
I was inside the....
"It's the junction of karma," the man said, confirming my realization as if reading my mind. "A place that decides where you should proceed—heaven, hell, reincarnation, or anything else ntioned in your religion."
He paused, his piercing gaze eting mine, his voice calm yet heavy due to that never leaving serene smile.
"So, tell , Ryan," he asked, his words echoing in the vast emptiness of the room. "Which religion do you follow?"
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