A/N: PLEASE READ CAREFULLY (I really can't emphasize this enough). I know religion is a pretty sensitive topic and I've chosen to write a story based on life after death, but that does not mean that these beliefs presented may be applicable to you.

Keeping that in mind, please DON'T CRITICIZE OTHERS FOR THEIR RELIGIOUS BELIEFS (especially in the reviews). After all, this piece of work itself IS A STORY― a work of FICTION. Although if you want to criticize the author for his fourth-rate writing abilities, by all means go ahead.

Anyways, this is another story inspired by my love of Gothic and morose themes. None of my stories are meant to make people feel depressed (although my bad jokes usually do that on their own). I want to envoke a sense of emptiness and sedation rather than sadness.

So, um... yeah lmao.

"Life. What's it all about?..."

"Huh?" Hope asked groggily. "Where am I?"

Hope rubbed his eyes as he examine his surroundings seconds after he awoke. For countless miles in each direction, only there was nothing. It was if he was in a white room with nothing in sight for as far as he could see. He looked down at his own body and saw nothing out of the ordinary. He still wore the same clothes he did this morning, but for some reason he felt…

Lighter. Transcendent.

"The space between space. Beyond time and existential intelligence. That's where you are."

Hope couldn't make out where the voice was coming from around the endless expanse. It was deep and raspy. But soothing. Hope examined his surroundings once more now that he was fully conscious. The white landscape truly extended on endlessly with no exit in sight.

"Who are you?..." Hope asked the voice, now more confused than ever.

"What's the last thing you remember, Hope?"

"Well I was at the store. I was picking up a few groceries on my way home, andㄧ" Hope's mind suddenly caught up with him. "Wait. How do you know my name?"

"You were exiting the store when you died. A car lost control and you were hit."

"Wait. I'm dead?" Hope asked incredulously. "You can't be serious. Dead?""

The voice let out a small chuckle. "It wasn't through an act of courage or bravery; most lives don't end that way, but it was your time, Hope."

"My time?!" Hope shouted. "But I've gotㄧ what aboㄧwhat about Claire? What about the baby?"

Hope began stumbling over his words as the control over his emotions deteriorated. He heaved heavily as his vision began blurring once again.

The memories formed and he remembered the scene of the accident clearly. Exiting the store. The frantic shouts and screams. The driver fearfully yelling out to him. Then complete darkness. Hope really was dead.

"Your wife and unborn child? Now that's what I like to hear. You find out you're dead and the first thing you worry about isn't yourself."

"Cut the bullshit!" Hope shouted angrily. He was irritated that this... thing was treating him like a toy. Like the life that he just lost was a simple game. "Answer me! What is going on with my family? What is going on with Claire?!"

"Your family is doing just fine, Hope. You see, your wife was cheating on you andㄧ"

Hope couldn't help but interrupt him. "Wait, wait, wait, what? She was doing what?"

"Even though she loved you dearly," the voice continued, paying no mind to the interruption. "A part of her was relieved that you would never find out about her and Fang."

Hope was near the end of his rope. "What the fuck?! How are you supposed to tell me that I'm dead, and then tell me that my wife was cheating on me?! Anㄧand, the baby?! What theㄧ"

"Take a few moments, my son. I know this like this can be a little hard to process," the voice said reassuringly.

Taking a few breaths from his outburst, Hope dropped to the ground in disbelief. Anger faded into grievance. Then finally into acceptance. He was dead. There was nothing he could change at this point.

"So… I'm dead," Hope said finally, having come to grips with reality.

"Yes, but none of that matters now. Walk with me." As the voice finished, a bright yellow pathway illuminated the way into the horizon ahead.

"So you never actually answered my question," Hope asked as he carried down the path. "But who are you?"

The voice chuckled again. "That's a little hard to put into words. I guess you can say I'm everything and nothing at once. The one above all else I suppose."

"Hold on a second!" Hope's eyes widened. "Does that mean?... Are you…"

A brief moment of silence.

"...Yes. I'm God."

"So um… God?" Hope wasn't sure how to properly address him. "You never actually told me where we are exactly."

"Think of it as… a 'waiting room'."

"A waiting room? A waiting room for what?"

"Rebirth."

"Rebirth? So kind of like… reincarnation, right?"

"In a sense. You come here every time you die. Here, we determine what life you will live next."

"So you're going to judge us on our past sins or whatever like that?"

"Well not exactly. You only have one soul. One life. You are "Hope" in every reality that we ever create. What changes instead, are the circumstances of your life. You could be Hope, a citizen of Gran Pulse. Hope, the leader of the Psicom Unit. Or even Hope in the place of Bhunivelze. A creator and destroyer."

"Wow. That sounds pretty cool to be honest. An endless life filled with new opportunities each time."

The voice chuckled again. "A little like that. The reincarnation process does have an end, however."

"Huh?"

"It ends when you have experienced every single life and reality you could ever become; when you have exhausted all other options of life in our vast understanding of a thing called 'reality'."

"So… does that mean I was here before?"

"Yes. The last time we had this conversation, you were Oerba Sinya Hope, the Cursebringer. The chief of Oerba's mystics tribe. A master warlock, you wracked Cocoon's forces during the Great War and killed thousands. You fell ill with an incurable disease and died several years before the war ended."

The thought of having massacred his own race in the past both sickened and amazed him. "Why don't I remember any of it?"

"If you come here enough times, you will. All of your past lives will flow through you, filling you with happiness and despair, pride and sorrow for all that you done. Standing on both ends of the spectrum, you will be both the saviour and the destroyer, the torturer and his victim, the hero and the villain. Only then can you truly understand the value of human life."

Hope was speechless. The entire explanation filled him with a sense of melancholy, a sort of peaceful ease. "So that's the meaning of life, huh?" he asked with a bittersweet smile.

"Yes, Hope. To understand one another is the true meaning of life. It can't get any simpler than that. Once you have experienced every single juxtaposition possible, then you can transcend reality altogether. Become someone who watches over the "waiting room." Become someone like me."

Hope paused. "So where am I going next?"

"Well I'm about to reincarnate you into Hope d'Esprit several centuries before the Oerba Amalgamation. You will be born into an orphanage, however a local monk will find you and raise you as his own. Working years alongside the church and your fellow brothers, you preach the word of Bhunivelze and ultimately rise to the rank of archbishop. However, a fellow brother will ascend to the position of the pope despite all your work, and out of envy you will murder him out of cold blood. The church will put you to death for your crimes. And then, after all that we will meet again."

"Why are you telling me all this? I'm not going to remember any of this, am I?"

"No, you won't. But I thought I'd offer you some reassurance for the time being. To die is to wander into a great unknown and people are fearful not knowing what comes next."

"So… God?..." Hope began. "Can I ask you one last thing before you go?"

"Hm?"

It felt awkward addressing the voice as such, given that Hope was never really the religious type. But Hope had a question that was shared among every human being, regardless of whether they believed.

"Why don't you do more to help those in need? People die of war and disease everyday, but their prayers are ignored most of the time. It's kind of sickening when you imagine things like… a mother dying before she sees her son all grown up..."

"Yes, Hope. That is an excellent question, although a bit cliché if you asked me," the voice laughed. "I prefer to work in more subtle ways, but that's because I want to have everyone's best interest in mind. If I do too much, people grow dependent. But if I do too little, people begin to lose hope. Sometimes the best thing to do is not doing anything at all."

The voice sighed uncharacteristically. "Your mother was a wonderful woman, but her time had come. I could have prevented her death, but that would have changed you as well. You wouldn't have grown to be strong… bonded with friends… married Claire…" The voice listed on. "Saving her may be what you wanted, but not what she would have wanted for her son. I hope you understand."

Hope simply nodded.

"One day, you will be in the same position as I am, Hope and just like me, you'll have your fair share of crossroads, but just keep this adage in mind whenever you face a tough decision: "When you do something right, people will not be sure that you did anything at all." Take care, my son. I will be guiding you. Always."

With that, Hope could no longer feel the voice's presence and it faded away. The white expanse around him began shimmering and his soul felt lighter as it was freed from his flesh. He was no longer held down by the weight of his body and began fading away from this life as the space around him did the same.

"Hm?"

"Huh?" Hope asked confused. He was surrounded by the white expanse once again. "What happened?"

The voice laughed. "It seems something has changed. I guess it really wasn't your time just yet, Hope. Well, do keep in mind everything I said. It'll be useful someday."

A small static shock ran through Hope's body. Before he could ask what was happening, he screamed at the top of his lungs as the floor beneath him suddenly gave away into darkness once again.

"I've broken my rule of non-interference for you, Hope. In return, try not to visit me again so soon."

. . .

...

"Clear!"

Hope jolted upwards as he coughed and sputtered.

"We have a sign of life! I repeat, we have a sign of life!" a voice called out.

As Hope came to, he noticed he was lying in a dimly lit parking lot. All around him were ambulances, and many, many faces. The crowd clapped and whistled as they saw Hope try to sit up, everyone congratulating the paramedics for saving the man's life. A sharp pain hit him as a hand rested on his shoulder.

"Easy there, kid," a familiar, gruff voice said.

"Snow?"

"You scared us there, Hope. A few broken ribs and a fractured shoulder, but the real spook was the cardiac arrest you suffered. Can you remember anything?"

Hope recalled his conversation with… God. "Yeah, there was a car and aㄧ"

"Hope!" a shrill scream came from the crowd and Snow was shoved off his feet. A tight pair of arms hugged him crushingly and Hope did everything he could not to scream out in pain.

"Don't you ever scare us like that, Hope..." Vanille whispered as tears dripped down her face.

"Alright, alright!" Snow shouted out as he got up. "Everybody clear the area! Nothing to see here!" Snow shouted as he held out his chief of police insignia for all to see. "Move! Move!"

Hope took one more glance at the crowd before he was placed on a stretcher and carried off into the ambulance.

The next few weeks flew by rather slowly. Everyone from the usual gang of Snow and the others, to Gadot and Cid Raines came by to visit the bedridden Hope. He was miraculously out of crutches within the first few days, but the doctors wanted to keep him around longer to monitor his recovery.

Snow laughed as he recalled Hope was declared clinically dead for about 15 minutes before he was resuscitated.

"Like you were given a second chance at life or something, kid!" Hope smiled in return.

"A little like that, actually."

"Well, my shift starts in about an hour so I gotta dip."

"Don't you have today off?"

Snow chuckled as he draped his long coat over his shoulders. "When you're the chief of police, days off don't exist, kiddo. Be seein' ya."

As Snow left, he heard some chatter outside. As the door opened, Hope was surprised to see his next visitor.

"Dad…?" he whispered.

"How are you feeling, Hope? I flew over as soon as I heard the accident."

"Dad…" he said again, which Bartholomew took as a invitation to sit by his son's side.

"I was really worried for you Hope. I'm so happy you're okay."

"Can I tell you something, Dad?"

"What is it son?" Bartholomew saw the downtrodden look on his son's face as he sat up from his hospital bed.

Hope suddenly enveloped his father in a deep hug, one that lasted longer than either could remember. In that time, Hope told his father everything. His thoughts before the collision, his meeting with God, and even his earlier conversation with Snow. But throughout his story, a deep sense of emptiness washed over the room.

Bartholomew took a deep sigh as his son finished. "So what now?"

"I guess telling Claire everything is the first step. There's no point in keeping this a secret."

"But your marriage… what will happen after that?"

After learning about Claire and Fang, Bartholomew expected Hope to feel anger, outrage, and betrayal― the emotions usually felt after learning about a cheating spouse. But what he saw in his son was a sense of dullness even greater than during the events of the Nova Chrysalia.

"I don't know, dad. But that's the first step."

"Well whatever you do my son, I will always support you."

Hope and his father bid their farewells shortly afterwards, and Hope slept through the night.

Hope and Lightning did speak the very next day. Hope knew everything and he wanted Lightning to know that. Their conversation was short. Curt. As if no emotions were left between either parties.

"Lightning.. I…" Hope took a deep breath, but the silence echoed itself around the room. "Do you think any of this would have happened if I never found out? We would have spent the rest of our lives in blissful ignorance… but we'd do it together."

"I don't know, Hope. We'd be happy around everyone else, but not each other. I think it would have collapsed no matter how hard we try to slow down all the signs."

"Just answer me this, Lightning," Hope said as he painfully stood up from his bed. "For the last 3 years, did our marriage mean anything to you?"

Silence. "No."

Hope nodded bittersweetly. "Thanks for visiting, Lightning. Take care of Fang."

Hope experienced a sleuth of visitors over the next week. Sazh flew in to see him from across the world and odd acquaintances such as Cid Raines, and retired General Amador spent a few hours talking to him.

But the most memorable visitor to come by was Vanille. Whatever doubt and sorrow that Hope held in his mind was instantly reassured by her peppy attitude.

"So Fang and Lightning are planning to move to the other side of the planet at the end of this year. But you can stay with me if you like!"

"Thanks for the offer Vanille. The old house just has too many memories."

"Cool, cool, cool!" Vanille shouted.

Everyone's lives kept moving forward, even in the face of the strongest blockades. Some even take a brief moment to consider whether that logic still applied after death. It is strange to believe, but not for Hope. He knew what came after this life, even if he wasn't wholly prepared for it.

But for a brief moment in time, Hope was the closest person to Heaven. He was only a touch away before he fell back down.

A/N: I've got one more Final Fantasy XIII project in mind before I'm done and it'll be a doozy. So look out for that.

Check my other stories for women respecting tutorials.