From death to God (Work In Progress)

From Death To God

Chapter One: The End of a Beginning

The world around him was a blur of colors, sounds, and sensations, all swirling into a vortex of confusion. His mind struggled to grasp onto something anything that made sense, but it was futile. The last thing he remembered was the screech of tires, the flash of headlights, and then... nothing. A void. He had died.

But why could he still think? Why could he still feel?

In the endless darkness, a pinprick of light appeared, growing larger and brighter until it enveloped him entirely. 9The light was warm, comforting, and it felt as though it was calling to him, beckoning him to step forward into its embrace. Without a body, without a voice, he was drawn to it, unable to resist.

As he passed through the light, a presence made itself known. It wasn’t a voice, nor a figure, but something ancient, powerful, and beyond comprehension. It was as if the very essence of the universe was speaking to him, and within it, he felt a multitude of entities beings of unimaginable power.

"This is not how it was meant to be,"the presence echoed in his mind, "but the threads of fate have twisted, and so you stand before us."

The presence was not singular. It was a chorus of voices, a symphony of divine beings who had governed the worlds, guided the fates, and shaped the very fabric of reality. He realized that he stood or floated before the gods themselves.

"You were to be reborn," they continued, "but something has gone awry. In our efforts to correct the course, we have intertwined our very essences with yours."

Confusion clouded his thoughts. Gods? Rebirth? What did any of this mean? But before he could even begin to formulate questions, the presence continued.

"You now carry within you the power of the divine. Our power. All that we are, all that we were, is now yours."

His mind reeled as the truth of their words sank in. He had somehow absorbed the power of the gods. Every ounce of their divinity, their omnipotence, was now within him, a part of him. The realization was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

"But know this," the gods warned, their tone grave, "Such power is not without consequence. You must learn to wield it, to control it, lest it consume you. The fate of the world the fate of all worlds now rests in your hands."

The light began to fade, the presence of the gods retreating into the recesses of his mind. As they disappeared, a new world began to take shape around him. Lush forests, towering mountains, and skies painted with the colors of dawn. He was reborn, but not as the man he once was. He was something more. Something far greater.

He stood in a field, feeling the cool breeze against his skin, the soft grass beneath his feet. His senses were sharper, more attuned to the world around him. He could feel the pulse of magic in the air, the life force that flowed through every living thing. It was intoxicating.

As he reveled in his newfound existence, memories of his past life flickered in his mind. He remembered the countless hours spent in front of a screen, immersed in the world of his favorite video game. The protagonist of that game was a powerful, tragic figure a warrior with a dark past, yet one who sought redemption. In many ways, the character had resonated with him, a symbol of strength and perseverance against impossible odds.

In this new world, he needed a new identity, a name that would reflect the journey ahead. And so, he made his choice.

“Raziel,” he whispered to himself, the name rolling off his tongue with a sense of familiarity and purpose. It was the name of the character he had admired, the one who had faced his own demons and emerged stronger. It was a name that felt right, a name that would define him in this new life.