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.
"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."
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?" A massive screen flickered to life
Ayaan was always in a hurry. As a real estate broker in the chaotic streets of Mumbai, his life was a whirlwind of missed calls, broken promises, and cutthroat deals. He wasn't a "bad" man, but he was a selfish one. He ignored his wife’s birthday to close a sale and snapped at his mother for "wasting his time" with a homemade lunch.
The "game" began. Ayaan watched himself on screen. He saw the time he let a struggling family keep their deposit (White). He saw the dozens of times he lied to clients about water damage (Black). He saw the look on his daughter’s face when he missed her recital (Black). "Ayaan Kapoor," CG said, not looking up from
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.
"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." While the doctors work, we play a game
Ayaan woke up in a room that looked like a high-end corporate lounge, but the windows looked out onto swirling nebulae instead of city skylines. Behind a massive mahogany desk sat CG—the "Collector of Galactic Karma."