“Oh, huh.”

“But why? I mean I definitely shouldn’t be in Purgatory. Based on everything I know – I mean obviously we could be wrong given that we’re living, as you said, in a temporal world, not to mention the whole entropy thing -” “Ok, I’m going to cut you off. Yes. You are absolutely right. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Every temporal being is being birthed into eternity during their time (heh) in time. At all points you are deciding whether you will be the ultimate standard for your existence. You and your momentary whims, your finite perspective, and your brain which was designed primarily as a justification device. Or will you subsume your will to an absolute standard of goodness.”

“If you are your own standard, than without the protective finitude of time eventually you will justify more and worse things. Hell is the land where every man is king.”

So rather than viewing it as the purgatory you are familiar with, think about it as if in order to prepare you for true timelessness, we are sending you into another world.”

“Ooh, like an isekai?! OH MY GOD, AM I GETTING STATS?! For the love of all that is holy, tell me I’m getting stats!”

“Haha, will getting stats somehow help you prepare for timelessness and eternity?” “Yes. Absolutely. There is nothing is the entire multiverse that could help me more. In fact, I was just reading a book on that very subject; it’s called ‘RPG Interfaces, Eternity, and You’. Incredibly serious book. Some might say scholarly. By a guy named if you don’t let me have this, I will find a way to haunt you for the rest of your timeless life! Strange name, probably a Scientologist.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to sell me. It’s already been decided.” “Oh man, Christmas morning. Ok, I’m ready. Tell it to me big guy.” With a smile he responded “you are being sent to a world with a leveling system.” “Squee!!!” I squeed. I squeed so hard.

When I finally finished squeeing and jumping around in circles chanting “leveling up, leveling up, leveling up” (about four and a half minutes worth), and the god finally finished shaking his head and Picard-palming his face, I noticed that he was staring at me peculiarly and reacted. “What, what’s going on? This is a real concerned look, not a ‘what a weirdo’ concerned look.”

He gestured down toward my midsection. As I looked downward I noticed that I was feeling a little lightheaded. Possibly because of all of the jumping around or possibly because “holy crap I’m disappearing?!”

“Soooo, it looks like they’ve revived you.” “Nooooooo! My stats! ...I mean, yay family and friends and world with milkshakes, but I wanna level up and collect stuff, I wanna catch them all!” “Sorry, but we work withing the natural laws of the world. We facilitate them; we don’t supersede them.”

“Man, I’m happy I guess, but it’s going to suck knowing that I could have been able to teleport.” “What even made you think could teleport?” “Come on, there was going to be teleporting. There’s always teleporting.” “Well fortunate for you then that you won’t remember any of this when you get back.” “Awww, that sucks.”

The slightly smiling man patted me on the back and slid on a pair of black plastic sunglasses. I looked at him and said “are you Men in Blacking me?” He responded cheerfully “I don’t have to you’ll forget either way, but I figured this would be more fun for you.”

As I faded out I just sadly whispered “yeah.”

---------------------------------------------------

I came to on a hospital bed in a bland sterile off-white room. I thought to myself “why are hospital rooms always so depressing? It’s got to double the patient recovery time. A fake potted plant and a bigass poster of a forest would cost, what, sixty bucks a room? How many rooms does a hospital even have, like three-hundred or something? Sixty times one hundred is six thousand, times three is eighteen thousand. That’s about what most hospitals charge for a dozen Band-aids. Seems well worth it if they actually want to make people get better.”

My mom looked down on me with tears in her eyes. “Zach, praise God, you’re alive, you came back. How are you feeling?” “Ow” I replied accurately. My family crowded around the bed. I asked “what happened? Actually, scratch that. I got hit by a truck, that’s what happened.” “Van actually” replied my brother. “Yeah I know, but a van doesn’t fit the tradition. How’s the truck, did I beat it?”

“The truck is fine, it’s in the waiting room” my dad joked. “I’ll go let it know that you’re doing ok my mom added with a smile. I grinned, but my face slowly fell. “How’s the kid?” “She’s fine. You got her out of the way in time.” “You made the news, they’re calling you ‘The Action Hero’ since you were in costume for the video shoot.” “Cool-” I attempted to respond but instead I fell into a fit of coughing. Holy shit coughing hurts when you’ve been hit by a car. Every cough felt like I was being stabbed on the inside by my own body. Probably because I was.

“How bad is it?”

“...”

“It’s pretty bad Zach.”

------------------------------------------------

Three months later I finally left the hospital.