He didn't see CG or the jars anymore. He only saw his wife holding his hand, her eyes red from crying. He didn't ask about his phone or his commissions. He simply squeezed her hand and whispered, "Thank God."
"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." He didn't see CG or the jars anymore
He saw himself as a teenager, helping an old man cross a flooded street, ruining his own expensive shoes in the process. A flurry of white pebbles poured into the jar. It was a tie. He simply squeezed her hand and whispered, "Thank God
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. For every moment you chose greed or anger, a black one
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?"
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).
Then came the rainy Tuesday. A slick road, a failed brake line, and a blinding flash of white light.