Death sucked. Not as much as she thought, though.
Kia had never been religious, and so, she expected a dark void and then nothing. Apparently though, religions were onto something.
The afterlife existed, and it looked like a greek temple made of marble, golden clouds and shining light. Whichever god ruled this place had given her a comfortable chair on which to sit, in front of a bright pyre.
“Kia Bekele.”
She raised her eyes, finding that what she thought to be pillars were in fact the legs of two immense figures.
The first was a great man with marble-like skin, like a statue chiseled from the stone. The entity wore a crown of flames and carried a blazing sword, hidden below a royal mantle. It was the archetypal king, with two suns for eyes glancing down at Kia with kind benevolence.
