“You are dead. Welcome to the Afterlife.” The was monotone and robotic, he could only assume every person around him heard the same thing.
“Human #94,843,732,984, please make your way to your resting room as your life gets judged.” After the robotic voice spoke, Human #94,843,732,984 had a holographic map appear in his eyes that showed him where his waiting room was. He followed the arrows on the map and down a hall filled with doors.
Inside the room were a nice bed, a TV, a desk, and everything you would need in day to day life, none of it looked cheap either.
Held in his hand was a remote to the TV. With the press of the button the screen flashed on and the words, “Who would you like to watch?” appeared.
Human #94,843,732,984, stood there in though trying to think of the best answer. He first tried, “Aster Holland”
“The Aster Holland you knew is dead.” The screen returned.
“Who would you like to watch?” The same line of text returned after he pressed okay.
“Requesting access to watch God… Please wait.”
“???? has overwritten access. Connecting to God…”
Human #94,843,732,984 was shocked, he in no way expected to be able to view, “God”, let alone for them to accept.
The screen went white before showing a figure made of light sitting on a cloud with screens all around them. The amount of screens were uncountable and he noticed, they vanish and another take their place every time he blinked.
He saw wars being fought, he saw children being born, he saw people confessing love, and saw people betraying those closest to them, all in a split second. He beyond saw this, he lived it.
Then a voice appeared in his head, “How does it feel?” The voice was different than before, it was still monotone, but there was no robotic sound.
“It hurts.” He replied, all this information, all these lives that were experienced faster than he could blink. It was being fed directly into his head. Every choice they made, every emotion they felt was thrown at him.
“I besiege you to continue watching.” The voice almost sounded like it held emotion. The more he listened the more human the voice sounded. He got a sense of arrogance from this masculine voice.
Human #94,843,732,984 continued to stand there being bombarded with all these lives, these five seconds left like an eternity. The countless lives he was experiencing, the amount of pain, at either giving birth, or dying in the most gruesome way, that he implored himself to endure.
Soon he forgot who he even was. He forgot where he stood, or why he was even standing. It had all molded into one life, one set of experiences, but not without the cost of who he began as.
“!?#(@[email protected]#!#@$^%$*&#@!&” The voice was intangible be it speaking another language that he didn’t understand, or the voice was too distant while the myriad of lives was experienced by one man.
The light figure shook, and the screen went black, “Access has been revoked.”
Human #94,843,732,984 passed out.
He was awakened by the same arrogant masculine from before, “Reincarnate in my world.”
Of the myriad of lives, a select few were authors, and his mind by instinct called on them for this interaction. It caused him pain, but it passed.
“Why?” The question in every isekai novel that is asked by the main character.
“@$^%$…privy to that information.” The voice was speaking Russian, but he could understand it after his mind called on a Russian life. The same pain as earlier returned, only to a lesser extent.
From what he could assume, the voice had avoided the question. “What If I don’t agree?”
The moment after the question left his mouth, he curled up into a ball howling in pain. All at once every single life ran rampant in his mind.
The pain then as quickly as it came, left. The lives as authors immediately understood the situation. That pain he just experienced is what he would experience for the rest of eternity.
“Do you agree?”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“Perfect, to your left you will see a contract. Sign it.”
More pain as the other lives of authors exchanged for the lives of lawyers. Can be inferred that his mind always choices the best people for the current situation.
“…You will be transferred to the world of ????, where you live your new life.”
“…In this world, you, the user, will be expected to grow stronger, to fight against even greater enemies.”
“…In exchange, the user will be given the power to painless recall any one of his lives. In exchange for the aforementioned action, User will forfeit the gift of God.”
“If the user were to disregard repaying ???? on the called upon days, the punishment is so chosen by, ????.”
These were the select few lines that were worth mentioning from the pages of agreements between the two.
He knew he was pushed into a corner without an alternative. This supreme being had forced him to see through the eyes of God. To experience so many lives that he would be unable to live peacefully without his, the Supreme being’s, intervention.
“The contract is vague, what is it you gain from this exchange?”
“You are not privy to that information.” The voice changed languages again, to some African language, but it would seem this time, one of the lives knew the language.
“Why me? Why put me through the torture?”
“Because only people like you can become what I need.”
“People like me? So, there are others.”
“@$^%$” He couldn’t understand what he was saying.
There was nothing more to ask. He signed a name on the dotted line, Ziph Ruin. The pen was lifted from the page and they both faded to white.