He awoke standing.
The world around him was pale gray and stretched endlessly, so far it dissolved into mist. Pillars of the same white stone rose and vanished in the distance, their tops lost to eternity. This marble platform he was on hung in the air without any apparent support. There, before him, a massive throne carved into the same marble, stood like a mountain among scarce, black clouds.
Upon it sat a figure shrouded in shadows, faceless, patient. A banner beside him hung weightless in still air, marked with symbols that hurt to look at, adorned with a piece of red cloth.
The adventurer blinked. His armor was cracked, his sword gone. When he looked down, he saw the edges of the marble platform fall away into darkness, and far below - countless others. Some waiting patiently, some disfigured, some embedded within the marble itself, their faces still alive, eyes rolling, mouths working soundlessly.
He felt a cold understanding rise in his chest. He was one of them. Or would be.
He stepped forward shakily, but the habit of courage carried his body steady. "What happened?". "You are dead." said Death, "but what does alive even mean?"
"What will happen now?" adventurer asked.
The figure stirred, and its voice rolled like distant thunder. "You'll talk to me.".
A soft flutter broke the silence. A fat, humanoid crow perched beside the throne, black and white feathers glinting like oil. Its eyes caught his, and it spoke in a voice slightly rusted, but excited. Excited because it'd get it's turn, that was apparent.
The crow opened its mouth to ask him an odd question, the same question that had haunted his dreams before the end, and somehow, it all led both of them here.
Death inclined his head slightly. "Every choice leads them here."
Then Death spoke to the adventurer, as if following an old ritual. "Did you have faith?"
The man straightened. "Yes, to the greatest and prettiest of all that is divine, goddess of love and affection."
Death's tone did not change. He asked slowly, "What did you do for your deity?". It was odd, even though the crow heard this many times, it still wasn't able to mimic the emphasis-less delivery of this question. Death had no feeling behind them, none. When crow tried it, the feeling of not having a feeling felt feely.
Adventurer paused. Death continued talking to the crow, "It's their choices that bring them here. They could've chosen any other thing to believe in, yet they are here, and even answered the previous question with, passion."
The man's voice grew strong. "I've loved, and still want to! I'll love my wife and my kids even more! Nobody else can besides me, they meant everything to me!"
The crow tilted its head and whispered to Death. "His wife is waiting for him as his adventuring life caused him to neglect..."
Death's hollow gaze deepened. "What do you plan on doing if you weren't here?"
The crow laughed, feathers shaking.
"I'll visit my wife one last time and take care of our children," the man said.
Death's hooded face turned slightly. "Why? Love."
The man stopped. His voice softened. "I don't think I'll love anybody like that."
Death said, "In the marble," referring to their existence, as it was known they were in one; "it is all that is presented to you, that your goddess loved. She loved and loved and bore all that is for you. You've chosen only a few, your choices led you here, and the rest now awaits."
The crow gave a surprised look. Death rarely gave a thought or asked a follow-up question besides his set three: Who, why, and what?
Then the crow spoke nervously. "But his goddess won't..."
Death smiled.
"I wasn't talking about neither of those choices."
He pointed to the false wall.
The marble rippled like a living thing?