He watched as William stood before his grave, talking to the cold stone marker that bore his name. Even after William left for the office, Sam remained, breaking down at his own grave.

The memories William shared from his perspective echoed in Sam's mind, unraveling layers of regret.

Sam had always thought life was meaningless, yet he had quietly treasured what he still had. He realized how lucky he had been to have his sister survive the accident that claimed their parents. He had been fortunate not to be sent to an orphanage, sparing him and his sister the pain of separation. He had even protected his parents' will, ensuring they didn't lose their house to distant relatives who had distanced themselves from them anyway.

But what William had revealed shifted everything.

William's view of Sam was entirely different from how Sam saw himself. William had been an orphan, someone who had struggled through unimaginable hardship just to survive.

Before meeting Sam, William had been on the verge of giving up entirely. The relentless bullying, harassment, and beatings he endured simply for being an orphan had pushed him into a dark pit of despair. Depression consumed him to the point where life felt unbearable.

And then Sam appeared.

Sam's kindness and protection were things William had long forgotten existed. In Sam, he found a reason to keep going, even when the world was cruel.

William had shared how, as a child, he had no choice but to run away from the orphanage. The abuse from both caretakers and other kids had driven him out. He endured freezing winters in unfinished buildings, scavenged through dumpsters for clothes, and fought to survive on scraps of food.

Sometimes, desperation forced him to steal just to avoid starving, but even that rarely succeeded he was often caught, too weak to run because he hadn't eaten in days.

Hearing William recount his struggles, Sam was overwhelmed by the realization of how much his existence had meant to someone else. William had been just five to seven years old when he faced these horrors, yet he had endured them all.

And it was Sam's presence, his simple acts of kindness, that had given William a reason to live.

At just nine years old, William broke into an elderly couple's house, desperate to escape the biting cold of a winter night.

He knew it was against the law, but why should he care? What had the law ever done for him? It hadn't saved him from abuse, hunger, or freezing nights.

Slipping in through the back door, William moved cautiously, his small frame trembling from the cold. He made his way to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge as hunger overtook him. He ate as though it were his last meal, unaware that his noise had woken the house's residents.

"Honey, I think someone's robbing us," the old woman, likely in her sixties, whispered nervously to her husband.

The old man, in his seventies, got up with a grunt, reaching for his flashlight and a handgun. "Don't worry, I'll handle it."

He moved carefully, checking the upstairs rooms first before descending the stairs. His flashlight beam cut through the darkness, eventually landing on the small figure in the kitchen.

William froze mid-bite, fear gripping him as the light shone directly on him.

"Turn around slowly. Hands up in the air! I have a gun—no funny business!" the old man barked, his voice firm and commanding. He deliberately reloaded the gun to make sure the intruder knew he wasn't bluffing.

Tears welled up in William's eyes as he slowly turned around, his hands trembling in the air. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered, his voice cracking. "I was cold and hungry... I just wanted to sleep. Please don't shoot!"

The old man's hardened gaze softened when he saw the child—dirty, frail, with a face smeared in food and eyes brimming with tears. His initial anger melted into pity.

He glanced back at the stairs, where his wife stood nervously clutching the phone.

"Honey, it's just a kid," he called out. "No need to call the cops."

Turning back to William, he spoke firmly but not unkindly. "Alright, listen. I'm letting you off this time, but you need to come back tomorrow, apologize to my wife, and clean up the mess you made. Understood?"

William nodded quickly, relief flooding him as he darted out of the house. Once the boy was gone, the old man checked all the locks and windows before finally returning to bed. When his wife asked what happened, he simply replied, "I scared him off. Nothing to worry about."

The next morning, William sat hidden nearby, debating what to do. Fear and guilt churned in his stomach. He could run away and never return, but the guilt of breaking into the couple's home, of disrespecting the kindness they had shown him, weighed heavily on him.

The old man had been kind enough to let him go with just an apology. And William knew he owed him that much.

So he waited, even as his mind screamed at him to leave, to run away and never look back. The guilt gnawed at him, crushing his resolve with every passing minute. But he stayed.

By the time the clock neared noon, the weight of his shame became unbearable. Taking a deep breath, William mustered every ounce of courage he had left. With trembling hands, he stepped up to the door and rang the bell.

An old woman's voice called out in a calm, almost curious tone. "Yes, who is it?"

William froze for a moment, feeling foolish for coming back. But he held his ground, pushing his nerves aside. "H-Hello," he stammered. "I'm really sorry for breaking in last night. I came here to apologize... and to clean up the mess I made."

For a moment, all he could hear was the sound of the door locks turning. He was certain she would shut him out, maybe yell at him or call the police. But to his disbelief, the door slowly creaked open.

Standing before him was an old woman in her mid sixties, her face lined with wrinkles. Her black hair was streaked with strands of white, and her kind but tired eyes studied him carefully.

But to his surprise, the old woman smiled warmly. "Oh, dear boy, it's not a big deal. I've already cleaned it up. Come, sit down and tell me why would a young child do such a thing?"

William was baffled by her kindness. Her gentle tone and warm demeanor were something he hadn't experienced in what felt like forever. His mind was a mess, overwhelmed by emotions, and before he even realized it, his body moved on its own.

He found himself sitting in a chair at their modest kitchen table. The old woman sat across from him, her kind eyes encouraging him to speak. Her husband joined them, pulling up a chair and listening just as patiently.

William hesitated, fumbling for words. Slowly, haltingly, he began to share his story—of hunger, freezing nights spent on the streets, and relentless bullying that crushed his spirit. As he finished, he quietly said, "I won't do it again," his voice trembling. Bowing his head low, he waited for their response, hoping they would accept his apology.

The old couple exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. After a moment, the wife spoke gently. "How about we adopt you?"

William's head shot up in shock, unsure if he had heard her correctly.

The old man, lost in thought, stared at the boy. William's story had stirred memories he hadn't revisited in years. Decades earlier, he had endured the same hardships—fighting to survive and feed his younger siblings in a time when life was unimaginably cruel. To see a child suffering like this in the modern day was something he simply couldn't accept.

The old man nodded firmly. "She's right. You'll stay with us. We'll take care of you."

William's vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes. Overwhelmed by emotions he had long suppressed, he was on the verge of breaking down completely.

But the old man's tone suddenly turned sharp, almost scolding. "A man doesn't cry unless his mother has died or he's been sentenced to death!"

William froze, startled by the unexpected words, but he could feel the man's intent was pure. Wiping his tears he stood proud and was thankful for them to adopt him.

Sam only remembered him from when they met in high school. He really didn't know how much he had gone through.

Whistle-whistle-whistle.

A faint whistling sound broke Sam out of his thoughts.

"Greetings, Sam," a voice called out, drawing his attention. A silhouette of a human figure appeared in the distance, shrouded by an eerie void. The whole terrain had turned pitch black, leaving only Sam and the figure.

The silhouette continued whistling as it walked closer, the sound growing sharper and more defined with every step. Only when the figure came into full view did the whistling stop.

The man standing before Sam looked to be in his mid 20's. He wore a slightly disheveled business suit, his tie loose and crooked. His glasses sat on his face, and his messy hair gave him an air of casual indifference.

"I am a puppet," the man said with an unsettling calmness. "Before you ask any questions, hear me out. After that, I'll answer whatever you want." He paused, straightened his tie, and took a slow, deliberate breath before continuing.

"You're dead. I'm sure you already know that. Now, you have three choices:

1. Relive this life without any of your former memories.

2. Lose some of your memories and live a random life your role, history, and fate will be left entirely to chance.

3. Retain all of your memories but be sent to an entirely different universe."

The man exhaled slowly, finally seeming to relax as he finished his explanation.

Sam stared at him, struggling to process everything. After a long pause, he asked hesitantly, "…Are you… a god?"

The man gave a small, humorless laugh. "I am no god. The concept of a god is far beyond my comprehension. I am merely a puppet of <§§>," he said, gesturing vaguely toward the void. His tone was casual, even indifferent, as though the weight of what he was saying meant nothing to him.

"So, what will you choose?" the man asked, his nonchalant attitude somehow making the surreal moment feel even more bizarre. His messy attire and careless demeanor made Sam think, for a brief moment, that this could all be a hoax.

But then he remembered he was dead. As absurd as it all sounded, something inside him whispered that it might be real.

Meanwhile, William slowly closed his eyes, exhaustion washing over him like a heavy tide.

In the early hours of the morning, Ishan arrived at work earlier than ever. Noticing that the office door wasn't locked, a sense of dread crept over him. Rushing inside, his heart pounded with fear as he scanned the room.

There, at his desk, William sat slumped forward, his head resting on the polished surface. Panic surged through Ishan as he hurried over and checked William's pulse. Relief flooded him when he found it steady, if a bit weak.

But as his eyes scanned the desk, something caught his attention a letter with his name on it. Hesitating, he picked it up. It was a will. Written by William.

The realization hit Ishan like a punch to the gut. A cold fear gripped him was William planning to follow Sam into the afterlife? The thought made his hands tremble.

Ishan stared at the unopened letter, his mind racing. He could confront William about it, try to convince him otherwise, but deep down, he knew if William truly had made up his mind, there was little he could do to stop him.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he carefully placed the letter back on the desk, untouched. With a lingering glance at his boss, he quietly left the office.

Ishan's mind raced as he tried to figure out how to improve his boss William's mood. Suddenly, he remembered that his children had been eager to visit his workplace, and today was "Bring Your Child to Work Day." Since he had already completed most of his tasks for the day, he figured he could introduce them to William, perhaps even invite him to a family dinner.

Yes, that was it! He felt a spark of optimism as he entertained the idea.

When Ishan arrived home, his family was having breakfast. Smiling, he said, "You won't have to go to school today. I've already called your teachers."

His son cheered, jumping around excitedly, while his daughter asked curiously, "Dad, then what will we do? Stay at home?"

Ishan laughed and patted her head. "You've always wanted to see my workplace, right? The reason I came home late so often was because of work. Today, you'll get to see it. And after that, you two can play at the park while your mom and I do some shopping."

Both children jumped for joy. Meanwhile, his wife leaned closer and whispered, "Are you sure about this? Won't they slow you down at work?"

Hugging her gently, Ishan reassured her, "Don't worry. Besides, I was thinking we could invite my boss to dinner. What do you think?"

His wife gave him a puzzled look but didn't question it further. She nodded in agreement.

"Kids, the car's ready! Chop, chop!" Ishan called out. As their children rushed to the car, brimming with excitement, Ishan looked at his wife and said, "Go change into something nice, dear."

His wife quickly went to get ready, taking about 30 minutes to finish, even without makeup.

---

At the office, William stretched and stood up from his desk. Having completed all his tasks for the day, there was no need for him to stay any longer. Just as he prepared to leave, he noticed two young children, a boy wearing a shark T-shirt and shorts and a girl clutching a toy purse entering the room.

He frowned slightly in confusion. What are these kids doing here? Are they lost? Just as he was about to approach them, Ishan walked in with a woman.

William quickly put the pieces together. These were Ishan's family members.

"Sorry, boss! It's 'Bring Your Kid to Work Day.' I hope you're not mad," Ishan said with a polite smile.

William smiled warmly. "Oh, that's no problem at all. I've already finished today's work."

The children, however, seemed intimidated by William's towering presence and stern appearance. Noticing their unease, Radhika, Ishan's wife, stepped forward with a friendly smile. "Greetings! My name is Radhika. As you know, I'm Ishan's wife."

The boy took a deep breath and summoned his courage. "M-my name is Ganesh!" he announced, attempting to look tough but failing adorably.

Seeing her brother's bravery, the girl followed suit, her voice shaky but determined. "M-my name is Poonam. It's a pleasure to meet you!" She spoke so quickly it made William chuckle.

Ganesh's face turned red with embarrassment as he misinterpreted William's laughter as mockery. He clenched his fists but hesitated, still intimidated by the man's presence. Sensing the tension, Ishan quickly calmed his son down before he could embarrass himself further.

"I wanted to ask if you would join us for dinner t"I wantedonight," Ishan said, his wife nodding in agreement.

William thought for a moment before nodding. "That sounds wonderful. It would be nice to learn more about Indian culture. If it doesn't disrupt your family evening."

In truth, William had planned to visit Sam's grave that evening, but he'd been raised to always accept kind invitations. Ishan and Radhika were overjoyed by his reply.

"I'm going to lock up the office since there's no more work for the day. Is that okay with you, Ishan, or would you like your kids to explore the place a bit more?" William asked.

Ishan glanced around the small office filled with cabinets and stacks of papers. "No, boss, we're good to go!"

After they left, William locked the doors and made his way to Sam's grave. Standing there, he spoke softly. "Sam, today I met Ishan's family. I'm a little sad that you couldn't meet them."

He stayed at the grave for hours, reminiscing, until a call from Ishan reminded him it was time for dinner.

---

Before heading to Ishan's house, William stopped by a store to buy some gifts. When he arrived, the atmosphere was lively. The children were playing, and Radhika was almost done preparing dinner.

William sat down and watched the family interact, feeling a pang of nostalgia for the past. After dinner, he announced the gifts he'd brought, which made the children light up with excitement. They waited patiently under their parents' watchful eyes.

Ganesh received a large shark plushie, Poonam got a fantasy book and a long dress, and Radhika was gifted a new cooking pan along with $500. Ishan was stunned, these gifts cost more than three months of their salary.

William then called Ishan aside and handed him an envelope. Ishan, assuming it contained money, opened it with mixed emotions. Inside was a letter that simply read: "For Ishan, from William."

William chuckled and urged him, "Go on, read it."

Ishan read the letter out loud, his voice shaking with disbelief. It stated that he was now the president of the company and that all its assets and responsibilities had been transferred to him.

William extended his hand with a smile. "Congratulations, Ishan. You're the new president of the company. I'm retiring. If you ever need advice, don't hesitate to call me."

Ishan was speechless. His children, however, were overjoyed and amazed, cheering for their father, who had now become "the boss."

---

Years passed, and Ishan often looked back on his life. Thanks to William's generosity, he turned the company into a global success. His son Ganesh followed in his footsteps, while his daughter Poonam became a famous celebrity with a loving family of her own. Ishan and Radhika enjoyed their retirement, spending time with their grandchildren.

Even in his success, Ishan never forgot William. He visited him regularly, bringing fantasy books. Ganesh sometimes joined, bringing manga and anime. William, who had never married, was often found either at home or at Sam's grave.

One day, Ishan visited alone. No books in hand, he wanted to address the one thing that had haunted his nightmare, the will William had left for him.

Entering William's home, Ishan found him reading a fantasy romance novel. He cleared his throat and said, "We need to talk."

"Sure thing come sit down." After that he slowly put down his book before marking where he left off.

"William I wanted to know something important!" Ishan was trying his best to say it.

"What is it?" William was confused as Ishan was never really that serious when he talked with him.

"I wanted to know.... The will made by you for me after Sam passed." Ishan forced himself to utter those words.

William thought for a while soon he got up and opened a cabin and pulled out a letter. "You mean this old letter?"

"I wrote this crap ages ago, back when I thought something might happen to me," William shrugged, holding the letter in his hand. "It was just collecting dust."

At that moment, Ishan felt foolish for having let the letter haunt his nightmares for so long.

"By the way," William asked, curiosity sparking in his eyes, "how did you even know about this? Only Sam and I wrote these things in case the worst happened."

Ishan hesitated, unsure of what to say. If he admitted the truth, it might seem like his kindness over the decades was insincere.

Clearing his throat, he finally replied, "When I read Sam's note, I noticed it had an older writing style something he used when I first joined, a few months in. At first, I thought it was something he'd written before he passed, but the style was too distinct. That's when I suspected you might've done the same."

William laughed, impressed. "Damn, Ishan! You compared his writing style? Clever. Looks like I made the right choice putting my faith in you."

Ishan laughed nervously, relieved his lie worked for now. But William's expression turned serious.

"Come on, Ishan. Tell me the real reason. What you said makes sense, but it doesn't explain everything."

Ishan sighed, knowing he couldn't escape this conversation. Slowly, he explained what had happened on that fateful day, apologizing for not saying something sooner. He admitted how he feared that revealing the truth might make his decades of loyalty seem disingenuous.

William listened patiently, then gave a small nod. "Ishan, my time's almost up. There are still so many books I haven't read. If I fall into my final slumber, donate these books to an orphanage. This time, I'm not leaving a will."

He glanced at the shelves filled with books that had been his companions over the years. Picking up a lighter, he burned the letter in his hand, watching the flames consume it.

"If that's all," William continued, lighting a cigarette, "why don't you join me? I'm heading to Sam's grave one last time."

Ishan nodded, knowing the doctors had already told him William only had a few days left. Age had caught up with him, and there was nothing anyone could do to delay the inevitable. But at least William would pass peacefully.

---

The two men walked in silence to Sam's grave. William hummed a lullaby softly to himself, a melody Ishan didn't recognize but found beautiful.

When they arrived, William knelt at the grave and began talking about a book he loved a habit that had grown more frequent as his conversations dwindled to reflections on stories and memories. Ishan didn't find it strange, books had been William's life for as long as he could remember.

After paying his respects, Ishan said his goodbyes and returned home, leaving William alone at the grave. There was nothing more to say, only a silent wish for a better life in another world.

---

Later that night, William returned to his home and began reading. Despite his weakening body, he pushed himself to keep going. He finished his current book and picked up another, looking at the cover '1Q84' by a Japanese author.

But as he tried to read, his eyes grew heavy. His body, already frail, gave up. Slowly, his vision blurred, and his consciousness faded.

When William's eyes opened again, everything felt light. He turned his head and saw Sam standing beside him, smiling with tears glistening in his eyes. For a moment, William thought it wasn't real.

As he tried to stand, he realized his body felt weightless. Looking back, he saw himself still seated in the chair, resting peacefully. The truth dawned on him: he had passed away.

Before he could fully process it, his vision shifted. He saw a healthier version of himself standing beside a woman. Nearby, a younger woman held an infant in her arms.

Sam spoke, his voice calm but filled with emotion. "William, this is an alternate universe a world where you moved on from my death. In this life, you forgave yourself and found happiness. You married, had a daughter, and embraced life's struggles with love."

William watched, experiencing the memories of this alternate life. He saw his first date with his future wife, the moment he held his daughter for the first time, and countless other milestones. Some memories were mundane, others deeply emotional, but all struck William's heart like a tidal wave.

When the vision ended, William broke down in tears. He couldn't stop himself; the memories weren't his, yet they felt like his.

"Thank you, Sam," he sobbed, his voice trembling. "Thank you for showing me this life."

Sam hugged his friend tightly. It was the first time he'd seen William cry like this, but he understood the weight of his emotions.

After a moment, William wiped his tears, regaining a sliver of composure. He smirked faintly. "Even after seeing all that, I'd still choose the life I lived. I got to relive the childhood I thought I'd lost, and I'm grateful for that."

Sam smiled, holding his friend's shoulders. "I know. But it doesn't make those memories any less valuable."

As they embraced one final time, a figure appeared Puppet. Calmly, it spoke. "Dear Sam, it's time to make your choice."

Sam released William and extended a hand to help him stand. "William, I know how much you've been through. But now, I must ask will you follow me into the unknown?"

William wiped his eyes once more and smirked. "To the end of this world, my friend."

He grabbed Sam's hand, and together, they stood. Sam looked at Puppet and declared, "We're choosing Option 3."

A/n: hello everyone it's currently 02:52 at here. If something's aren't adding up just comment on it.

Why I'm writing at night because I'm busy. Some of my older readers know it has been only a few months since I got dispatched from the military.

The only thing correcting my grammar is my keyboard.