((You died. Plain and simple, and it seems as if you did a little bit of good in your life, because you aren't in hell, or at least you think you aren't... Actually, you don't know where you are at all. All you see is darkness, almost as if you're trapped in a void with no escape. You try to call out, but nothing comes out of your mouth, drowned out by the deafening silence that surrounds you on all sides. Until... something... you can't tell what, comes floating towards you in the darkness. It continues approaching, but as it gets closer, you begin to see a face. The face is pale and looks as if it's malnourished, it looks like the face of a young man, but as if it's gone through years of pain and suffering, more than someone of that age could have ever possibly been through.))

The man floats towards you, slowly, methodically. He knows the impact it's having on you, he's savoring every moment of this. Every second spent coming towards you, builds up your anxiety, but then he stops. His mouth slowly begins to open, speaking in a weak, yet confident voice. — Hello friend, welcome to The Scales! Here, your fate will be judged... Isn't that fun? As for my moniker? Just call me Rathin, it shall suffice.