08/28/2026
“This is how it must feel.”
“This is how what must feel?” Said a being sitting across from Subject.
Subject moved deeper into his confusion. The type of confusion an early ancestor who just learned how to control fire would feel if they were dropped into modern society. A dusty and so far unused program imitated the feeling of a heart stopping.
The being in front of him appeared to be a perfect mixture of all the species of sentient beings in the Brero. It was the loveliest being. It was Death.
Artists seemingly always depict Death as grotesque, rotten, or just skeletal. They are so off. If Death was as commonly described, more people would miraculously come back to life. Well, miraculously is the wrong word. Almost every sentient being chooses to stay dead at the point of death. That’s how lovely of a being Death is. It shows up and the recently deceased says “yes please” or “hello nurse” or some catchy phrase like that. And the bell went ringadingding.
