Reborn And Chosen By Three Gods

The flash of flame and light, intense heat, and a wave of overwhelming force slammed into him like the hand of God.

 The bright pain lasted for only the briefest instant, almost long enough for him to realize he was dead.

 What happened next was unclear, but it didn't follow his expectations. All the lessons he'd learned in his Sunday school years, then at his parent's side in the pews of the community church, meant he knew what comes next.

 He was ready.

 His heart yearned to be reunited with the one he loved, the one he'd so recently lost.

 Hope flared but was soon replaced by confusion.

 He felt... a physical sensation.

 Wasn't he dead? He couldn't have survived the explosion.

 Unwanted memories of his last moments flashed through his mind in a jumble.

 Approaching the worksite storage shed at his last contract position.

 Sparks.

 The smell of gasoline spilled onto the mud floor with a strong undertone of... garlic?

 His outrage at hearing his tools had been dumped in the shed.

 The rage, cursing, and spittle from the red-faced project manager and site foreman after he'd told them he'd reported them for multiple severe safety violations.

 The acetylene tanks, damaged in a careless accident the previous day, hidden in the shed next to the tipped gas can.

 The rusted and squealing diesel generator kicking on as he opened the door.

 The flash.

 He jolted at the last memory, and phantom pain flared.

 As it quickly faded, he wondered why he felt sensations at all. Wasn't he dead?

 He heard a moan and realized it came from him. His eyes were open, but there was no light. Had he lost his sight in the explosion?

 The force of the blast should have turned him into a bag of broken bones, but the ache seemed to be localized to his lower back. It felt more like bruising.

 Awareness of his body slowly expanded beyond this area, but there was no additional pain. He lifted his arms and touched his face. He found smooth skin, not scorched and charred as he'd expected. After running his hands over his head and discovering he still had hair, he moved them down to touch his chest, arms, groin (just in case), and legs. No damage or pain anywhere.

 He realized he was naked and lying on a rough woven mat, but the floor beyond seemed to be rock. It was a little bumpy but didn't seem to have any sharp edges. He carefully sat up and still felt no other pain.

 He reached his hands out into the darkness in all directions to explore his immediate surroundings and mapped the space in his mind. It felt like he was in a small, dry alcove of rock with a low ceiling just above his head. The floor was smoother than the roughly cut walls, but a soft fabric curtain covered one side of the alcove. He lifted the bottom edge and noted the top seemed to be affixed to the rock somehow.

 Moving slowly, he exited the alcove and discovered it was at the bottom of a tunnel that sloped upwards gently. The ceiling was still low, so he remained on his hands and knees as he moved further up the tunnel.

 He found the curtains of twelve more alcoves, all on the left side of the tunnel. They had mats in them but were otherwise empty.

 He sighed in relief as he wasn't sure what he'd do if he found a body.

 He paused as he realized how calmly he was taking this whole experience.

 Why was he so calm? He'd died!

 Then he recalled how calm his dad was in crisis situations. He must be emulating the man.

 That wasn't a bad thing, considering the circumstances. He'd just have to be careful not to lock his emotions away as tightly.

 He was sure he'd died as the memory of the explosion was brief but intensely real. He should have been crushed and burned beyond recognition, maybe even pulverized into a red mist... but he wasn't.

 He paused and let the realization sink in that he'd just woken up from being dead. He needed more information before he decided to panic.

 Then he heard a noise. Something metallic and sharp, followed by a scraping sound.

 Were those voices ahead? He couldn't determine what they were saying, but it sounded like they were becoming more distant. He tried to call out, but his throat was dry, and all he managed was a weak croak.

 A distant boom, a metallic clack, and silence returned. He shuffled forward, hands outstretched and determined the ceiling was getting higher. He took a chance and stood as he shuffled forward.

 His hands touched something made of wood. It felt like a door, but this side had no handle.

 His fingertips determined the wood was smooth and without splinters. He pounded a fist against it, but it was solid and didn't budge. The sound of his thumps echoed slightly, but no one responded to the noise.

 This seemed to be the end of the tunnel. As there was a locked door and he'd heard voices beyond it, he decided he'd just have to sit and wait for someone to return. Hopefully, that would be soon.

 He collected the matt from the closest alcove and set it on the floor next to the door. Then he sat and took stock of his situation again.

 He was somehow miraculously alive and potentially unhurt. There was still a question about his ability to see.

 He was in a cave, and caves were typically underground and dark, which could explain his vision issue.

 There was no sound other than the ones he made, so it almost felt like he was in one of those sensory deprivation tanks, except he was sitting on a woven mat, not floating in body-temperature water.

 He had no idea where he was. This wasn't a hospital, and it certainly wasn't anywhere near the building site, as there were no caves nearby.

 He was naked, sitting in the dark in a cave behind a locked wooden door.

 His mind felt sharp, so he didn't think he'd taken any brain damage. He hadn't lost any memories, as even the chaotic moments of his death seemed to be reordering themselves in his mind. That felt like a positive sign.

 He was thirsty and hungry but not cold. He found that last aspect suspicious as he was naked in a cave and expected such places to be cold.

 After a time, he realized he was tired. With no other alternative, he stretched out on the mat and let himself drift off.