Pain and Tears

"Hmm, you're not the brightest are you? You're pitiful intellect aside, this is a place of the damned. A place where pitiful souls unfit for reincarnation congregate for some form of salvation."

"It has no true name but the creatures of the multiverse that know of its existence call it by whatever name best conforms to their ideals. I believe that your world refers to it as Limbo, The First Circle of Hell which isn't entirely accurate but sufficient for someone of your mental capacity."

"Huh," Dean was oddly nonplussed at this revelation. It was as if he'd just been told that the sky was blue or that his shoes were untied.

It was odd. He was dead and essentially in hell speaking to a massive monolith carried by a hoard of vengeful human tusks, and yet he felt far less terrified than he KNEW he should be.

"You've begun to notice, haven't you?" The monolith's raspy voice intoned. "Perhaps, there is hope for you yet. This place is home to an abundance of peculiar existences and phenomena."

"Your lackluster responses and forgotten memories are the results of the environment in which you find yourself."

'My environment?', Dean was so enthralled on the vengeful hoard and the terrifying monolith that he'd neglected to properly notice exactly where he was.

Looking down at his bare feet, he squeezed his toes to feel the smooth, slightly damp white sand underneath his feet that stretched endlessly to the horizon in front of him.

"Hmm, why is this sand slightly damp?" not really expecting a response Dean looked behind him to find the source of the fine mist that was slowly soaking both the ground and his back.

Located 20 or so meters behind him flowed a languid, black river that was only around 3 meters across. Occasionally, a bubble would gurgle to the surface before quickly popping and releasing a cacophony of sibilant whispers and ghostly wails.

Even more strangely, the river's flowing speed fluctuated. Sometimes it barely crept along at a snail's pace, and at other times, it raged forward like a galloping horse.

It was during the time that the river raged forward that the river would produce a fine mist of droplets as the river's edges brushed against the shore on each side of the river.

However, the river was always silent no matter what speed it flowed at.

Casting his gaze to the other shore, Dean was greeted with the sight of absolute abundance. Unlike the barren white sand on his side of the river, the other shore was occupied by a lush forest.

Swaying in an unseen breeze, flowers of all shapes, sizes, and colors rested amidst a field of lush grass that continued to a forest's edge that was dominated by gnarly trees that towered high above.

Amongst the towering trees, Dean could see vague shadows of animals and other creatures but their finer details were obscured by the mist that came from the river.

"It's odd, isn't it? Like this river, the border between life and death is so narrow."

The monolith, which had been silent while Dean was observing the river, commented on the surreal sight before him.

"You managed to make it quite far. You even manage to somehow bypass that river with your sense of self primarily intact. A feat that not many can boast to have accomplished.

Unfortunately, you've become ensnared in one of the more sinister aspects of the Lethe, the river of oblivion or forgetfulness.

Normally, any spirit that it makes it this far would have long since been bathed in its waters and forgotten every aspect of their former life. You've avoided that fate, but now you're constantly in contact with the river's mist.

Left alone, bathing in the river's mist will also cause you to forget your former life, but since you've met me your fate may change.

I will test you. If you succeed, for better or worse, your fate will never be the same.

If you fail one of two fates awaits you. Either you wither and crumble into the sand just like countless others before you, or you retain some semblance of self and join the hoard below me."

Dean squeezed his toes again and felt the sand between his toes while he cast his piteous gaze at the human husks.

"Don't pity them. Unlike those who've turned to sand, they still have hope. They still have a chance to overcome their predicament and break renter the cycle of reincarnation.

If they manage to endure the burden of being in my presence for a time, then they will be transformed into something new, something greater."

'So if I fail, I become one of them or crumble into sand, huh?'

'Nope!'

The way Dean saw it, this was a lose-lose situation for himself. It was like someone was asking him to choose between cutting off either his hand or his foot.

"Excuse me, sir... Mr. Monolith, but if it's alright with you, I'd rather reincarnate or go to heaven if that's possible. I'm not a big fan of this test that can result in me becoming a human husk or worse yet, sand."

Sensing his pity at their current situation, all of the human husks' gazes became even more vicious. The ones that could vocalize wailed at the top of their lungs in indignation at being pitied while the others shuddered and repeatedly clenched and unclenched their fists.

"No, this test is not optional. You will be tested because it's not often that a soul makes it this far. All who make it here must be tested to see if they possess the inherent qualifications I'm searching for."

"Mr. Tablet sir, that's not really necess-," Dean couldn't even finish his objection before he was blatantly interrupted.

"You will gaze upon the runic scriptures inscribed upon my surface. If you pass, they will coalesce into a Truth upon which the foundation of your Path to Power will be formed.

Dean hadn't realized it but he'd been unconsciously avoiding directly looking at the tablet's surface.

Feeling eerily compelled, he turned his gaze upon the tablet's surface. As if sensing his gaze, the sanguine tendrils writhed intensely as if to obscure anyone from gazing upon the runic scriptures behind them.

They twirled and encircled a central runic scripture that was as plain as the tendrils were ominous.

'What is going on?'

Right before his eyes, the runic scripture began to convulse and writhe as the unintelligible runic scriptures became comprehensible in his mind.

Pain and Tears.