Yagami Project © 2012-2014
A massive screen flickered to life. It didn't show Ayaan’s achievements. Instead, it showed two digital jars: for his virtues and Black Pebbles for his sins.
"The game is simple," CG explained. "We revisit your memories. For every moment you chose kindness over ego, you get a white pebble. For every moment you chose greed or anger, a black one. If the black jar fills first, we let the doctors take a break. If the white jar wins, you go back with a second chance." A massive screen flickered to life
He didn't see CG or the jars anymore. He only saw his wife holding his hand, her eyes red from crying. He didn't ask about his phone or his commissions. He simply squeezed her hand and whispered, "Thank God." "The game is simple," CG explained
"Ayaan Kapoor," CG said, not looking up from a holographic tablet. "You’re in the waiting room. You aren’t dead yet, but your body is currently arguing with a telephone pole. While the doctors work, we play a game." For every moment you chose greed or anger, a black one
As the black jar reached the brim, Ayaan realized something terrifying: his life wasn't a series of big events, but a million tiny choices. He begged for one last memory.
Ayaan felt a sudden, sharp pain in his chest—the sensation of a defibrillator. He gasped, his eyes snapping open in an ICU.
CG leaned back. "The game is a draw. But here’s the thing about the afterlife, Ayaan—we don't decide your fate. You do. If I send you back, will the jars look the same in forty years?"