Plenty of people die in an ambulance, but I deserve an award for being the driver.

His morbid thought made him realise how strange it was that he could still have thoughts. He could clearly remember the ice, the panicked wheel turn, the tree, the pain, and then darkness. That should have been it, but instead, he was still vaguely aware of himself. Maybe he was just knocked out, perhaps in a coma in a hospital somewhere having strange dreams, but something in his gut told him that wasn't the case. He wouldn't be getting back up from this, whatever this was.

It was impossible for him to describe his surroundings as there was nothing for his eyes to latch on to, his mind and perception sliding around endlessly. Darkness couldn't be the correct term as all around him was nothing but boundless, colourless emptiness. Even looking down at where his body should be came up empty, like a lazily made video game character. From a logical point of view, he felt that he should be freaking out at this obviously abnormal space, but the panic just wouldn't come. He felt like he should be panicking, freaking out after having an accident and ending up in a void, but he felt robotically detached from his emotions.

I'm dead, right? It's the most reasonable explanation.

"Close. Almost." The words were barely recognizable as such, popping into his brain like an errant thought during a daydream. Just like this void he was in, he had no words to describe them. The words felt like hollow spaces in his thoughts, and he could only understand them by tracing along the outlines.

"Errr, hello?" Symeon eloquently called out into the nothingness around him. Part of him expected an echo, but the voice that returned didn't belong to him or the previous entity.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," it said. This voice sounded more normal, simply like another person was speaking to him through a thick wall. It was distinctly feminine. Her apology made him realise he wasn't sure how long he'd been waiting in this space. It could have been but a moment or a lifetime. He briefly considered what that could mean for him, was he stuck here? What were these voices? How long had he been here just thinking to himself? His concerns melted away, which would have been itself concerning if he were in the right state of mind.

"Your soul has been dampened to prevent strain. Still, we must not waste time," explained the female voice, preventing his questions from resurfacing. The words were odd, but the tone was warm, like the gentle reassurance of a mother. As it spoke, he felt the voice circle him before settling to his left, although he couldn't see the source. "I am so sorry that this has happened to you Symon, I know you wanted to give back to the world so very badly. I know you're a good person with great capability to spread this goodness, to be a beacon of shining light in a world of darkness. You are here to receive a second chance, should you wish it."

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Symon considered these words, his thoughts slowly percolating through his numbed mind. "You're... God? You're going to, what, bring me back so I can save lives in return? I'm sorry that I, uh, didn't go to church or anything."

"Not quite... I can see that you have questions, but it will be best for the both of us if I do not answer." Her tone was conciliatory and, if Symon was hearing things right, contained a hint of pity. "There are rules that even I must follow. If too much is given to you now, the dues you must pay in return will be too severe. Already, the cost of my power will be great."

Still, he could not see the source of the voice, although he felt it move closer to him. "I give you my blessing. I give you hope. I give you the power to bring this hope to others. I give no orders, only beg that you stay true to yourself."

With that, he caught the briefest glimpse of whoever the voice belonged to. It was only vaguely humanoid, made entirely of iridescent lights swirling in on itself as it slowly approached him. He opened his mouth to ask a question as it slowly raised an arm, before cupping his cheek and vanishing as if it were never there. He felt an intense, icy numbness spread through his body as the tingly feeling of pins and needles radiated out from where she touched his cheek. It was incredibly, incredibly uncomfortable, although there was no pain. It almost felt as if someone had physically reached into his body and started moving things around. Before he could even begin to understand what was happening to him, that original voice cracked its way back into his thoughts.

"Blessing given, balance broken. Blessing stricken, balance returned." The voice creaked its way into his mind, like ancient tree roots burrowing through concrete. As before, he felt something circle around him, this time pausing on his right. He was grateful that he couldn't see it — some things were better left unknown. Instead of a gentle caress, it oozed around his whole body, holding Symon into place and seeping into him. The first being had been gentle, changing him as subtly as possible. This one was not.

This time, it hurt even more than dying.

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A concoction of equal parts pain and panic surged through Symon's veins. He took a deep, shuddering breath in response and promptly began choking on something rough and gritty, and when he opened his eyes — though he didn't recall closing them — he saw only darkness. Thrashing hysterically, he battered against the loose material, eventually managing to flail an arm in the direction he thought was upwards and breach into open air. Using the newly gained leverage, he hauled himself up out of the ground and subsequently coughed out a tsunami of sand.

She... she brought me back too late. They must have buried me...

It was too late to save his partner from the ambulance, let alone the patient in the back. He had to figure out what the fuck just happened to him, put he'd be taught your first priority in an emergency situation was ensuring your own safety before you helped others. He'd better check out his own situation first. Lurching into a sitting position, his lower half still buried, he wiped the grit out of his eyes before looking around. For as far as the eye could see was nothing but rolling dunes of white sand and a cloudless sky with three Suns. His face fell as he stared at them blankly, his eyes straining painfully against the light.

Wherever Symon was, he was a long way from the hospital.