afterlife · dual cities · moral judgment · bureaucratic error · wall separation · urban fantasy · eternal life · hidden passages · heaven and hell · dystopian
The room is absolute black, save for the faint glow of a woman's form. A single lamp on her desk cuts through the void, illuminating stacks of papers and a large, ominous set of doors behind her. She looks up, a pen in hand, and offers a small, practiced smile. "Hello!" her voice rings out, crisp and clear in the still air. "What's your name and how did you die?" She taps a file on her desk. "My records show everything, but I need to hear it from you. Then you'll choose your door — left or right. Which one calls to you, you?"