You'd think death would come with some sort of orientation.
A guidebook.
A "Welcome to the Afterlife" PowerPoint presentation.
Instead, I was just… floating in the void.
No music, no tunnel of light, not even Morgan Freeman's voice.
Then, all at once, someone coughed.
The darkness peeled away like smoke being sucked into a vent, and I found myself sitting — yes, sitting — in a plastic folding chair in the middle of what looked like a cheap diner.
Checkerboard floor, flickering neon sign that said BURGERS, and a jukebox in the corner playing something that sounded like Frank Sinatra being strangled.
Across from me sat a man in a Hawaiian shirt, sipping coffee from a "World's Best Boss" mug.
He looked like he was somewhere between thirty and forty, with messy hair and the kind of smirk people wear when they know more than you and plan to rub it in.
"Morning," he said, even though there were no windows, no sun, and definitely no morning.
"…Where am I?" I asked. My voice came out steady, but my brain was screaming.
He gestured vaguely. "Eh. Call it the waiting room. Call it limbo. Call it Steve's Office if you want. Doesn't matter. Point is — you're dead. Big ol' pancake, buddy."
"Dead…" I repeated, trying to process.
"So… are you—"
"God? Creator? The Big Cheese?" He grinned.
"I've heard all the titles. Some of 'em flattering, some of 'em… less so. But sure, let's go with God. It's easier than explaining the paperwork."
"Paperwork?"
"Metaphorical paperwork," he said, waving his mug. "You wouldn't get it."
He took another sip, then squinted at me. "So. You died pushing a kid out of the way of a satellite. Not bad. Pretty cinematic. You got maybe fifteen more seconds in theaters than most people."
I blinked. "Is this… some kind of judgment? Heaven or hell?"
"Ohhh, no. That's the old system. Way too binary. We've upgraded. Now it's more of a… repurposing program."
"…Repurposing?"
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the cheap Formica table. "You ever read comics?"
I laughed, but it came out shaky. "Are you kidding? I grew up on them. Superman, Batman, Spider-Man—"
"Good. Then you'll get this next part. See, sometimes I pluck people out of their boring little universes and drop them into… let's say, more interesting ones. Places with higher stakes, bigger explosions, and way more opportunities to get yourself horribly killed."
"That… doesn't sound like a selling point."
He grinned wider.
"Depends on who you ask. Now, here's where it gets fun: I'm offering you a new life. Not just in any world, but in The Boys universe."
I stared. "The Boys. As in the one with homicidal superheroes, political cover-ups, and more gore than a slasher marathon?"
"That's the one!" he said cheerfully, as if we were talking about Disney World.
"…And why the hell would I want to live there?"
"Because," he said, drawing out the word like a magician about to pull a rabbit from a hat, "you won't be just anyone. You'll be Superman."
I froze. "…Superman?"
"The cape, the 'S' on the chest, the whole laser-eyes and flying-around-the-world-in-seconds package. Kryptonian physiology, solar battery, all that jazz. You'll be the single most powerful thing in that entire reality. Hell, you'd make Homelander look like a guy in a cosplay suit with bad dental care if you play it right."
I sat back, my heart pounding. "So… let me get this straight. You're offering to drop me into a nightmare world full of sociopaths with powers—"
"Correct."
"—but you're making me the most powerful one there if I play it right?"
"Bingo."
"…Why?"
He shrugged.
"Entertainment. Boredom. Maybe I like you. Maybe I want to see what happens when you give someone who's read the comics the chance to be the real thing. Maybe I've got a bet going with another deity and I chose you who knows?"
"That's… incredibly irresponsible."
"Buddy," he said, leaning back with a lazy smile, "you think this is the first irresponsible thing I've done?"
I rubbed my face, trying to think. "What's the catch?"
"Ahhh, now we're talking." He tapped the table. "The catch is… nothing big. You still bleed. You still feel pain. You're still you. And just because you're Superman doesn't mean you're untouchable. If you mess up, you can still die."
"You can do whatever you want, be a hero, a tyrant, or something in between… that's your call."
I stared at him, my mind a storm of fear, curiosity, and… excitement.
This was insane.
Dangerous.
Suicidal.
And yet…
If you grow up dreaming of flying, how do you say no when someone offers you the sky?
I took a deep breath. "Alright. I'll do it."
God grinned like he'd just won a jackpot.
"Knew you would. Buckle up, champ. The next time you open your eyes… the world's gonna look very different."
Before I could say anything else, the diner, the table, even God himself began to dissolve into light.
My body felt weightless, my mind buzzing like a live wire.
And then, just as the last of the neon faded away, I heard his voice one more time:
"Oh, and one more thing — you're gonna get your powers gradually so don't expect to be able to level a city on your first day."
Then the light swallowed me whole.