The air along the ground was warm as it blew past in a soothing lackadaisical manner. Students were milling about enjoying the weather and company of their fellows. Up above on top of a nearby dorm building the wind was a bit more energetic and the air warmer as the noon sun beat down. On this dorm stood one of the university's professors of philosophy, a Mr. Vincent Williams. Quite often he would let himself up onto the roof, it was a place where he could enjoy a view of the whole campus and the nice fresh air. Today though he had a different motivation in his excursion to this secluded spot. 

He had determined that today was to be the day, would cement his name in history, hopefully. Just earlier in the day, between his first to classes of the day, he had received an email from a publishing company. A few weeks prior he had submitted a manuscript to them in hopes that they would publish his work of philosophical inquiry through the use of a novel, and it was with delight that when Vincent read the email that he learned of their intent to publish it. In fact as he stood on the roof he clutched under his right arm the first manuscript he had made of his novel.

With this most recent achievement he felt that he was at the peak of his life, he had loved truly, done what he truly loved for a living, created something of meaning, and now he planned to insure he would be remembered. Stepping up to the edge of the building Professor Williams felt a nervousness well up inside, yet a giddiness as well. While yes the prospect of death, and the subsequent oblivion and nothingness that he was certain followed terrified him, he was even more petrified by the fear of being forgotten. To him the very idea of slowly fading into the background, was worse than any death he could imagine. Looking down at the concrete below he took a deep breath, surely this act would make sure his name would remain known, even if just a footnote on another's paper he would be satisfied.

Taking a small step over the edge he let the world go. The air whistled by his ears carrying the exclamations of those bearing witness to his actions. Falling he couldn't help but let his mind wonder at this sensation, it was more than mere falling it was freeing, his mind had clarity that he had never known before. His only coherent thought left being his only wish for the future, Remember.' Then in an instant it was gone as was the jubilant philosophy professor, leaving behind only a body, questions, and a slightly bloodied and bent copy of his yet to be released novel, on which a quote from Robert Tilley lay displayed "As to why an atheist should fear death is a puzzle, for there is literally nothing to fear. But for the religious it is different. It is the truly religious who fear death, not because they fear an abyss but because they know there is a God and there is judgment."

Groggy, if he had to pick one word to describe how he felt at the moment it would be that. Slowly opening his eyes to the light that pressed against them, Vincent expected to find himself in his bedroom awaking from his rather realistic dream. This however was not the case, he instead was confronted with the bright sky above in which hung masses of land, as if they were stars at night. Taking a moment to look about as he sat up he gazed about, finding within his view other people. Debating for a moment he stood figuring that perhaps he was still dreaming, after all he was upon self-inspection still wearing the clothes from when he fell, his suit and his laughably atrocious butterfly tie. Plus, he couldn't have died, like he had in the dream he clearly wasn't dead. Maybe, he survived and it was a coma dream, either way he was apparently going to be here until he woke. Figuring he might as well embrace whatever the hell this is, Vincent approached the others calling out, "I'm not the only one completely lost here, am I?"