In the middle of the brilliant, boundless cosmos—where stars shine in perfect harmony and silence lingers like a gentle hymn—a young man gazes wide-eyed at the endless expanse before him. His eyes brim with wonder, filled with admiration for a universe too vast to comprehend.
He does not know how he arrived here. To him, it feels like nothing more than a dream—one that will fade the moment he wakes. Wanting to savor this illusion, he simply stares, letting time slip past while bathing in the beauty of the stars.
But seconds stretch into minutes. Minutes unravel into hours. Only then does he begin to question this dream that endures far longer than any he has ever known.
"Wait… is this really not a dream!? How can so much time pass without me waking?"
Scratching his chin, he ponders his situation with growing unease.
"For a while I thought it was a lucid dream, but nothing changes. Hmm… was I kidnapped by aliens and left here? No… that wouldn't explain how I can breathe."
After discarding one far-fetched idea after another, a sobering thought takes root.
"This must be the afterlife. I must have… died."
His voice trembles, tinged with melancholy.
"I always knew it could happen at any time… that is the life of someone chronically ill. Still, yesterday I felt… half-decent. I didn't think the end would come so soon."
A deep sadness washes over him. He had prepared for death, but not for the regret of leaving without a proper farewell.
"I wanted to say goodbye to those who stayed by me until the end. Even if they can't hear me now… thank you. Thank you for staying, even when it hurt you. Thank you for caring for me, for loving me, for giving me… 'sob'… a happy life…"
Tears trail silently down his cheeks, glimmering against the void. His sobs drift into the endless stars, fragile echoes swallowed by infinity. Time passes, and at last, his grief softens.
"Dad, Mom, Brother, Sister… and Leila. Thank you for all your blessings. From here, I wish you only joy and long, happy lives."
With sorrow tempered by resolve, he bows toward the vast cosmos, offering his gratitude one final time.
Now calmer, he gathers his thoughts and steels himself to embrace this afterlife fully.
From what I've read, there should be an angel, or some kind of guide. But… no one's here.
He considers for a moment, then calls out softly:
"Hello? Anyone here? Mr. Angel? Ms. Angel? I'm ready now… ready to pass on."
But the stars remain indifferent. Silence answers him. A ripple of unease stirs in his chest.
A dreadful thought whispers at the edge of his mind.
What if this is it? What if I'm meant to stay here… forever?
Fear threatens to take hold, but he forces himself to breathe, to think.
No… it can't be. Maybe this isn't like the religious afterlife, but surely I won't remain here forever. Perhaps I need to move, to explore this cosmos and find something. But before that, I should at least take a proper look around.
His fear eases as purpose takes its place. Slowly, he surveys his surroundings. Stars, planets, galaxies—they stretch endlessly in every direction. Yet when he tilts his head upward, something wholly unexpected greets him.
Floating just above, as if waiting all along, rests an object. His breath catches.
A book.
He stumbles back, startled, then swallows hard as curiosity overtakes fear. Tentatively, he reaches up and pulls it down into his hands.
A… book? What's a book doing here? It looks old, but not damaged. Let's see… what's it called?
It is a medium-sized tome, bound in worn, purplish leather that shimmers faintly under starlight. Golden corner plates gleam against its edges, while silver-etched letters flow elegantly across the cover in delicate italics.
He stares in awe as he reads the title aloud:
"A Guide into True Godhood."