In world of god

Well… well…You are here, human.”
The voice echoed around me, like it was coming from inside my head—and from everywhere else at the same time.
I blinked.Wait… can I blink? Do I even have eyes right now?
“Uh… who’s talking?” I asked. Or maybe I just thought it. Hard to tell in this... void.
“I am what you might call... the Gatekeeper.”Ah. Of course. A classic. Every mysterious dead-person voice needs a dramatic title.
“Gatekeeper of what?” I asked. “Heaven? Hell? A really long waiting room?”
The voice chuckled.“You always did talk too much. Even in death.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot,” I muttered.
Then came silence. Heavy. Long. Like the moment right before a camera shutter clicks.
Then it spoke again—“You were not meant to die today.”
Wait, what?“Excuse me?”
“You stepped into a moment not meant for you. Wrong place, wrong time. But... such is life. Or rather—such was your life.”
I frowned.“So that’s it? I get shot for being curious and I just... float in darkness forever?”
“No,” the voice replied. “You have been offered something rare… a choice.”
A soft glow appeared around me. Like a spotlight slowly fading in. Not blinding—just warm.
“A choice?” I repeated. “Wait—this isn’t one of those choose-your-afterlife things, right? Because I’m not really into harp music or eternal fire.”
Another amused pause.“No. You will not go to a heaven or a hell. Your soul has a calling. A thread that is not finished.”
That sounded poetic and all, but I was still stuck on one thing.“Are you saying… I can go back?”
“In a way,” it replied. “You will be... reborn.”
“Wait—reborn reborn? Like, as a baby? I have to do diapers and school again?!”
A glowing swirl of light started to take shape—almost like a galaxy forming from smoke.
“You will carry fragments of your old self,” the Gatekeeper said. “Not everything. Just what your soul cannot forget.”
My hands started to form. Or I felt them forming. Fingers. Arms. A heartbeat. A camera strap?
“And what will I become?” I asked.
“That is up to you. Your new life will begin where your passion left off. Somewhere… new. But familiar. A chance to find what was lost.”
Then a pause.“And maybe… to be remembered this time.”
The light grew brighter. My thoughts felt heavy and warm and blurry.
Just before everything vanished, I whispered to the void—
“…Will I still have my camera?”
I heard the softest laugh.
“Let’s find out.”