Humans have speculated since the dawn of time about what happens to the soul once the body perishes. As a self-proclaimed Christian, one that only went to service on Easter, Darnell fully expected that when he finally died, he would ascend either to walk through the gates of heaven or to be condemned to the fires of hell. But neither of those happened. Darnell’s body had long passed, but his soul was stuck in a void. No light, no dark. No sound, but also no silence. Yet in this state of complete void, Darnell’s soul was active.

While he couldn’t speak, he could still form thoughts and ideas. Without the ability to perceive his surroundings, he could do naught but pull in to himself.

‘This is not at all what I expected death to be like. Well, at least this seems like death. I distinctly remember the look on Sarah’s face right before my head hit that table leg. But damn, this has got to be the dumbest way anyone has ever died. From helping out a coworker to smacking my head on the smallest of edges.

‘I wonder what is next. Moms used to always tell us that if we lived good lives, we would go to heaven, and as far as I know, I lived a pretty damn good life. Volunteering, giving back to my community, I went the full nine yards. So why am I stuck in this state of nothingness? Is this what death is? An eternity to myself? Or maybe I’m not dead yet? Could they be keeping me alive on life support? No, definitely not that. I very clearly told my doctor to save my family that trouble.’

Darnell’s thoughts continued along these lines. Questioning who he was, where he was, and what would happen next. As time went on, there became less and less to reflect on. One can only go over one’s life journey and their perceived impact on the world so many times before they start to go crazy.

At the moment that Darnell exhausted his introspective actions, the state he was in changed. No longer was he in the void, but instead he was seated in what seemed to be a library study room. Surrounding him were ceiling-high, solid, wooden bookshelves. Each shelf was double stacked with a variety of spines, some that contained words in a vaguely recognizable language, and others with runes vaguer than he remembered hieroglyphs looked.

Scanning further, Darnell found that there was no door in or out of this space. Naturally bookshelves, books, the chair he was sitting at, and a study desk in front of him. Save the books themselves, everything seemed to be made out of the same wood.

“Hello! Is anyone there?” Testing his voice and finding it worked, Darnell decided to reach out. There was no way this was heaven, and he hoped it wasn’t hell. Because if this was hell, a hell that, rather than being a never-ending inferno, was a place where you were condemned to study for eternity would rank in the worst possible hells there were. Darnell imperceptibly shuddered as he remembered finals week. “Can someone let me know what’s going on? Please tell me I’m not in hell.”

“Hell? Of course not. You mortals and your ideas of the afterlife always amuse me.”

Out of nowhere, a voice filled the space. It was of the wizened sort. In Darnell’s mind, definitely knowledgeable, but there was a hint that the person speaking was probably a little kooky.

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“Kooky? I haven’t heard a mortal refer to me as kooky in… well, ever. You always have been quite the interesting one haven’t you Darnell.”

“Y-y-you can read my mind? How is that even possible! Wait, where even am I? And where are you?”

A hum of beating drums began, as raw power began to coalesce on top of the desk. As it built up, Darnell felt as though he could be sundered into nothingness at any point. It eventually peaked, just as the beating drums reached the crescendo, and then there was silence. Blinking away the unsettled feeling, Darnell looked on the desk to see a six-inch old wizard. Dressed in full robes and a textbook wizard hat, and sporting a beard that was no doubt longer than he was tall, the wizard stood in a flourish.

“Greetings, young Darnell. I have many names across the cosmos, but you may call me The Wise One. I am here to ferry you, just as I have ferried many others, along to your next life.”

Darnell’s jaw dropped. ‘This six-inch figure was God? How could that even be possible?’

“Darnell, as a soul your thoughts are projected into the world. Whether you speak it or think it when you are inside my library everything is public. I chose to appear as six-inches. And I am not God, per se. As I said, I am The Wise One. God is Everything. I am but a mere piece of that whole. My job is to ferry people into their next life. If I were any figure you would know of, it would be similar to that of Charon, if, of course, you were to assume that Charon was but one piece of Zeus. Or maybe Gaia. Well, no one really knows how Greek mythology works, do they? Haha! That said, we really must move on. Here’s a set of dice, feel free to roll them however you please.”

The self-absorbed way The Wise One spoke left Darnell unable to get a word in. Having the set of dice thrust at him so abruptly, he decided to just roll them all at once. He agreed with The Wise One, the sooner they finished whatever he was here for, the better.

“All at once. Bold. Yes, that does fit your profile. Let’s see what we’ve got then hm?” The Wise One picked up one of the twelve-sided dies that had landed on a 6. “Amazing choice, really. Fate smiles on you kindly, young one. And to get a four on this d4! Not super helpful but I have seen worse.”

The Wise One continued to finger through the dice, making comments on each roll, both positive and negative. The comments were never indicative of what the roll actually meant, however. The Wise One quickly finished up and immediately pointed his index finger directly at Darnell.

“You have rolled the dice of fate, and now shall start yet another new life. You have failed to roll to retain the memory of the library. You have succeeded in rolling for one boon to carry into your new life. The boon you are awarded is the memories and cognitive functions from your past life. Not many people are able to remember their past lives, and fewer still are able to leverage it to their advantage. I wish you the best in your next life, Soul #f58bgy3n. Continue to defy the odds as you have for millennia.”

As The Wise One spoke, Darnell’s ability to perceive began to wane. Soon, there was nothing but blackness. There was a stint where everything he was took a second to reboot, and in that time his soul was scrubbed of any knowledge of the Library. While his mind was still active, Darnell was rendered immobile. Eventually, there was a slight hint of warmth. While moving was still incredibly difficult, as time passed Darnell began to regain his ability for brief, sharp movements. Such as a kick or a punch. Yet there was still the blackness.

Of course, Darnell knew what was going on. He did, after all, retain all his memories of his past life. All there was to do was wait until-

And then it came. The pressure associated with a mother giving birth.