White.
It was around him, in him. It was him. His world was the white. And he loved it.
He could see anything in it. Galaxies, millions of trillions of lightyears away from earth. Dark matter, was not so dark to him. Uncountable amounts of species and creatures were all know to him.
But these things did not interest him.
He loved to watch where he had once been. Places where he had lived. People he once knew. He could connect with them on a subconscious level, deep down inside them. It comforted him, to know they were happy.
He was not alone, though, inside the white. The alien species that had permitted him to join them was also present. The Illuminari, as they were called. It was not a name born of vain, it was a name given to them from the ones they helped. A giving, kind species, they had long ago shed their corporeal bodies, like so many higher races do.
Like he had done himself.
But the Illuminari had given him a mission. No, not a mission: a choice. The option to return from where he had once came. No regrets, no consequences. Just the fortune of rejoining his friends and family.
And he was going to take it.