When I opened my eyes again, the snow was gone. The bridge was gone. Even my body was gone.
That same white light I just experienced. I am standing in it now.
I stood in a vast white expanse, as if I'd woken inside a blank page waiting to be written on.
A figure sat before me: a man, or something shaped like one, wearing simple robes and holding a steaming teacup. His presence felt like looking at the sun through closed eyes: warm, comforting, but undeniably powerful.
"You died," he said calmly, as if commenting on the weather.
I blinked twice. "Yeah… I figured."
He chuckled. "Most panic. Your calmness is refreshing."
"Pretty sure the panic's waiting to hit me later," I said. "I am not sure this is even real, maybe I am dreaming".
He just looked at me in the most annoyed look one could give, or what I guess is him looking at me. He could only be described a silhouette that was somehow whiter than the expanse we were in.
He lifted the teacup in a small toast. "I am called many things; a god, spirit, administrator, cosmic janitor. Choose whatever title helps you cope. What matters is this: your life in your world has ended."
This is as cliché as according to every light novel I've read. Of course, I am not complaining as an endless void would be a nightmare in comparison.
I exhaled slowly. "And… this is where you decide what happens next?"
"Exactly."
His eyes softened.
"You lived a good life. Kind. Decent. And most importantly, unremarkable."
I breathed in sharply, "Sounds harsh."
"It's a compliment," he said. "From people like you, greatness can actually grow."
He set the cup down, and the empty white space rippled like water around us.
"There is a world in need of such unremarkable souls. A world fighting a long war. A world where the gift I offer you will matter."
Something pulsed behind him...
a flame, small and steady, yet impossibly bright.
Not fire as I knew it. Fire that felt alive.
It twisted and coiled like a serpent.
"What is that?" I whispered.
"The seed of a Concept," the god said. "A truth made flame. A power that only a rare few can wield. I offer it to you… if you wish to live again."
My throat tightened.
"A second life," I murmured.
"A second chance," he corrected. "With a fire that cannot be touched by corruption or decay."
I am not sure what corruption or decay have to do with fire. I mean fire is just a chemical reaction…isn't it?
The flame drifted toward me, hovering at my chest, warm but not scorching.
"Will it hurt?" I asked.
"Very much." He smiled kindly. "But only for a moment."
I looked at the flame. At my hands. At the white empty world.
Then I nodded. "I'll take it."
The god placed a hand on my shoulder. It was heavy as a mountain but controlled and comforting as a lover's embrace.
"Then may your new life burn brighter than the last."
The flame hovered for a moment then as if metal to a magnet, the ember shoots into me.
I screamed—
and the world turned to fire, light, and rebirth.