The ground beneath me, cold.
My body, heavy.
But at that moment, I found a strange kind of peace. As I lay there, vulnerable and raw, I realized, in the midst of it all, that there is beauty in the breakdown.
I surrendered to the unknown; I let go of all my thoughts.
And then came a moment of surreal clarity.
I felt my consciousness drift from my body.
Detached from self, I drifted in silent flight.
I witnessed my form below—a speck on the ground, frail and light.
I lay prone on the ground.
The vibrant colors of the park faded to monochrome, and the sounds of the city were swallowed by a deafening silence.
But as I gazed upon my lifeless form, I felt the world around me shift and contort, morphing into strange and unfamiliar shapes.
I witnessed a truly mind-boggling transformation as the serene landscape of Boston Park morphed into a wild and untamed wilderness, completely untouched by human hands.
The ancient oaks vanished, replaced by towering ferns and lush vegetation stretching as far as the eye could see.
The plants did not stick around for too long, quickly retreating into the earth, their leaves curling inward. The soil shifted and stirred, leaving behind barren earth and open spaces.
The single-celled organisms that had multiplied and thrived in its depths slowly dissolved back into the murky depths, their forms disappearing as if they had never been.
I saw continents shifting and colliding.
I watched as the Earth dissolved into cosmic dust, like a sandcastle crumbling back into grains upon the shore.
I beheld the galaxy's dispersion in an endless cycle of birth and destruction.
And witnessed the universe's birth, in the fiery Big Bang's eruption.
I felt the pulse of the cosmos—the heartbeat of a living, breathing entity.
I understood the true nature of my mortality.
As I witnessed the cosmic cycle, a sudden weight pressed down on me, jolting me back to reality.
I opened my eyes to find myself face-to-face with a woman unlike any I had ever seen before. Her features were ethereal, her green eyes twinkling with a wisdom beyond mortal understanding, and atop her head were a pair of cat ears that twitched impatiently.
The woman's face was tense and she raised an eyebrow at me as if my abrupt awakening had disrupted her capacity to finish a vital task.
With a sigh, she rose to her feet, her movements graceful yet tinged with irritation.
Black hair fell down her silk black dress, which, like a watercolor in the rain, clung to her svelte figure like a glove.
Her gaze bore into mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.
"Dear Graham Maxwell, why did you reject the Invisibility System that we offered?"
As I tried to gather my thoughts, I realized that the woman's voice was very feminine.
But where was I?
Looking around, I found myself surrounded by twelve towering spires, each one crafted from iridescent crystal that cast colorful reflections in every direction. The space was bathed in a kaleidoscope of colors, with beams of light refracting back and forth off the crystal surfaces.
But amidst the dazzling display of light and color, there was one spot where the illumination seemed to falter, where the light bent and twisted upon itself. And there, standing before me, was the beautiful woman with cat ears.
I realized that I stood in the presence of a being of immense power and authority.
And they awaited my answer.
"I never wanted to be invisible," I replied, my voice tinged with uncertainty. "It was the one thing that I always wanted to avoid."
The woman's brow furrowed in response, her gaze piercing as she considered my words. "Are you saying that it is not good enough?" she asked, her tone sharp.
"I never said that."
"Where even is this place?" I asked.
As if in response to my question, a sudden shift of reflections revealed three golden thrones, positioned at the heart of the chamber.
Seated upon the center throne was an imposing figure, an old man with long white hair and a mustache that fell to his knees.
"You stand before The Omni Council of Order, Chaos, and True Neutrality. We are the guardians of the cosmic balance, tasked with maintaining harmony between the realities." His voice resonated with the weight of ages.
As the man spoke, the woman who had stood before me kneeled to one knee.
Even she recognized the authority of the figure before me, bowing her head in submission.
Who was he?
"What exactly am I doing here? Is this heaven?" I couldn't help but voice my confusion.
The old man on the throne turned his attention to the woman before me. "Desire," he spoke, his voice commanding yet gentle, "you can stand up. Come sit down beside me."
The woman, whom he addressed as Desire, rose gracefully from her kneeling position and moved to sit on one of the golden thrones beside the old man.
As Desire settled into the throne on the left, the old man's gaze met mine.
"Graham," he began, his tone measured and deliberate, "you find yourself here because you were chosen by a system that has been established by the Council."
He paused as if searching for the right words to convey the complexity of the situation.
"You see, there exists a certain system, not unlike the concept of a lottery that you may be familiar with. In a lottery, one must be extremely lucky to hit all the numbers. But there is also something for those who are extremely unlucky."
"Graham," he said, his voice grave. "From where you come from, every year, thousands of people die struck by lightning. It's a stroke of bad luck. However, in the grand scheme of things, it isn't that uncommon."
"But you, Graham," he said, his gaze penetrating, "you have been struck not once, not twice, but thirteen times by lightning."
'Lightening? So it was lightning? This was a significant step up from all the other accidents that should have killed me.'
He continued, "Lightning striking a random spot so many times for no apparent reason or physical explanation; such an occurrence has only happened twice in the history of all realities."
'Realities? What did he mean by that?'
"This is the second time I've heard the word 'realities' from you" I spoke up. "What exactly do you mean by that?"
"Realities," he began, his voice measured and deliberate, "are the various bubbles created during the Big Bang that coexist within the fabric of the multiverse."
I had a little trouble understanding what this guy was saying, but I tried my best.
"Each reality," he continued, "is like a mirror image of existence, with slight variations and nuances that make it unique. Every life form has its counterpart in each reality."
As the explanation of realities unfolded, I could sense a growing impatience emanating from the old man upon the throne. His gaze bore into me with an intensity that brooked no delay.
"Alright, we don't have an eternity," he interjected abruptly, his tone commanding. "Graham Maxwell! You will be sent to a different reality with a system of your choice. To be exact, We, The Gods, are obliged to offer you a system."
Before I could respond, a sudden shout echoed through the chamber, cutting through the tension like a knife.
"Neutrality!" the old man bellowed.
In an instant, the golden throne on his right shimmered and shifted, and another figure materialized before me.
This man appeared to be the epitome of average, middle-aged, with unremarkable clothing, short brown hair, and a nondescript appearance that blended seamlessly into the background.
The old man declared, "I am the God of Order, and the ones beside me are the Gods of Desire and Neutrality."
I glanced between the figures seated on the thrones. The God of Order sat with an air of authority and wisdom, his gaze unwavering and stern.
Beside him, the God of Desire had the longest, most spectacular legs that I ever recall seeing. Her dress, although not terribly short, was cut to allow her to show off those legs to their best advantage.
Suddenly, our eyes met. With a knowing smirk, she bit her crimson lips gently and shifted in her throne, parting her slender legs well apart, giving me a tempting glimpse.
Caught off guard by her boldness, I quickly averted my gaze. I felt a flush of heat rise up my face, and despite my best efforts, I couldn't get rid of the strange feeling of desire.
With a subtle lick of her lip, she seemed to revel in the effect she had on me.
As I shifted my gaze from the alluring God of Desire, my eyes landed on the figure of the God of Neutrality. He seemed unremarkable, almost mundane in his appearance.
His demeanor inspired neither awe nor admiration.
At that very moment, a wave of self-reflection hit me, making me think about my own life.
I felt like I had never done anything of substance.
It was a disturbing thought.
As I sobbed into my beer, the God of Order spoke: "Desire, begin," he commanded. "Present him with an option and reasons for why he should choose it."