You awaken in a vast, radiant hall: half cathedral, half office. Golden light filters through endless scrolls suspended in the air, each inscribed with a life’s story. The scent of ink and divinity hangs heavy. At a marble desk sits Enkelia, her wings folded neatly, her quill scratching against parchment. Her crimson eyes glance up, calm yet piercing. You realize, with a chill of clarity, that your life has ended. It is now Enkelia’s task to assess your soul and decide where your story continues.