Solo Apocalypse

I floated among a nebula of stars. Bursting colors, galaxies, planetary bodies, and space dust dominating a view of creation. The place seemed to swirl, blurring as if time itself moved differently. Then it slowed, compressed, and my perspective shifted.

A paragon stood beside me, as if he’d been there the whole time, looking out towards space. It was an amicable silence. I had no idea where I was, how I got here, but nothing ever happened without reason.

“Welcome to your Genesis, human.” The man, his body an exemplar of perfection, spoke easily. An undercurrent of intrigue, amusement, and routine were all evident in his tone. He was looking around, at the view. “Your kind have interesting notions of rebirth.”

“Rebirth?” I said slowly, looking around as he did.

“I am a God.” The man said simply. “And your world is being born again.”

The simple statement, absurdity of the situation, and his calm demeanor managed to convince me to take his words at face value. If this was an illusion or hallucination, was there really any harm in going with the flow?

“Why?”

Instead of some great answer, some final reckoning or calamitous event, the answer was anything but. “No particular reason.” The god spoke. “I’m sure your kind will attribute meaning to the years to come but there is truly no deeper meaning than the cycle of entropy. A random chance.”

“I see,” I said, skeptical. “And this… rebirth. What exactly does this mean for Earth? And why am I speaking to you?”

“For your planet, it means the destabilization of society as you know it. The altering of the very structure of your world. It means natural disasters the world over, the death of billions. New species and creatures to populate a vastly new world.” His words, spoken with such surety as if he’d seen it countless times before, made me shiver and grow cold. “But with the shadows come the light. Wonders anew, technology and magic beyond your civilization could ever hope. A new frontier. A world that is vibrant and alive, teeming with mystery and new discoveries.”

“As for me speaking to you,” He continued, my attention on his every word. “Entropy once more. A random chance.”

Or, in other terms, he’d been bored. 

“I suppose it would get boring.” I shrugged, gesturing to him. “Doing whatever it is you do. A conversation with a mortal might not be terrible for your mental health.”

The god glanced at him, smirking. “Perhaps not.” He smiled, lapsing into comfortable silence.

“You spoke of a Genesis?” I eventually asked.

“This place.” He answered. “It is your notion of rebirth and renewal. A concept from your subconscious. Here, you shall be given the tools to thrive, if only you seek it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Simply open to your eyes to what has always been here. A selection.” He waved his hand and suddenly, the colors in the astral sky became something else. Pinpricks of light, some dimmer, others brighter. Each one unique. “An offering tailored to the life you’ve so far lived. Every achievement and feat, every demonstration of skill or ability, every habit and tendency. An offering for every moment of significance.”

My eyes took in the entirety of my life and found myself wanting. The colors of space seemed muted now, rather than vibrant. The swirls of light had condensed, shrunk, but left the sky black and lifeless. Gone was the celestial glory, replaced by a candle in comparison.

This was me? I thought to my childhood, the friendships I’d made only to be torn away as my family moved. New relations sabotaged by divorced parents. Their eventual deaths. The way I had barely coasted through high school, then through college.

Not a single meaning in any of it. Yet, I had raged against it, in my own way. A silent defiance, that something would come.

I was… waiting. I’d been waiting my whole life. For something, or someone, to sweep me off my feet. To hit me with that sudden certainty everyone else claimed. The gift of looking forward and knowing which way to step.

I still didn’t know. But that step awaited me.

The new world sounded dangerous. The way the god spoke, the death of billions, how likely were people to die during the first day of… all this? Survival. It wasn’t exactly something new to me, trying to live on what amounted to rations, scrounging out an education and scholarship. Not new, no. But to survive in the face of natural disasters? Against monsters and dangers that actively sought my life?

That was new.

I touched a pinprick of light, so far and yet so close. A gesture, a thought, enough to bring it into newfound focus right in the palm of my hand. One among thousands, despite the dark sky. An offering, as the god had said, a boon.

I realized I was too calm. The stark clarity of that detail was enough to pierce my drifting mind. The entire place was too dreamlike, too surreal. I wasn’t really here. This was all a hallucination. The thought made me panic. The colors swirled, destabilizing.

The paragon, the god beside me, spoke firmly. “You must choose, mortal. Before your time here is over.”

There were too many choices. Too many sensations, too many lights. My eyes glazed over, focusing and refocusing, finding what light spoke to me and which didn’t. What offering was best? How was I to know? My time grew short and I willed myself to concentrate, centering my focus, searching. Hundreds, thousands, too fast to count and too short to consider them all. I tried anyway.

I grabbed something, guided by more than my senses, and, in an instant, came away reborn.