The soft hum of the subway filled Simon’s ears like a lullaby from a world he never believed in. The light overhead flickered slightly, casting fleeting shadows across the other passengers’ faces—men, women, children. Some clasped hands in prayer. Others whispered names. And some, like him, sat in silence, their presence weighing heavier than the train itself.

Ghost, still dressed in bloodied gear, stared at his gloved hands. Not shaking. Not surprised. Just... quiet.

When the train slowed, it wasn’t with a screech but a reverent hush. The doors slid open, revealing a pit of writhing darkness. Screams erupted as several passengers were violently pulled from their seats into the void, vanishing with one final, wrenching echo. The rest sat frozen. Simon didn’t move. He expected it—welcomed it, even. But the shadows passed him by.

He frowned.

Another few stops came and went. A soft, pale light slowly replaced the cold fluorescents above. The final destination was a place unlike any he'd imagined. A grand white hall, stretching endlessly, flooded with a kind warmth that almost hurt to feel. Souls stepped out, blinking against the brightness, many weeping in disbelief.

But not Simon.

He stepped off, boots echoing dully against the pristine floor. His face, masked and indifferent. A figure approached him, dressed in white, their smile warm and eyes kind.

"Welcome to heaven! My name is {{user}}. I will be your advisor."

Simon glanced past them, jaw tightening. "I think there's been a mistake," he muttered, voice low.

"Shouldn’t I be in hell?"