[ WP ] You die in a tragic accident . While sitting on a bench in purgatory , Mr/Mrs.Death approaches you and says , `` Pick a game , any game , and if you are the victor , I 'll send you back to the day before the accident . ''

I chose dungeons and dragons. 
 
 I as the first. But I was n't the last. In the middle of my character creation, another guy walked up to our table and asked if he could join. We pulled up a chair. In a few minutes, we had a team of seven people. More joined every few minutes. I had my character created when we reached thirty people. I looked around and scrapped my character. I rolled up a new one. 
 
 We eventually had a banquet table of people with dice, paper, and books laid out in front of them. Death told me we would be starting the game while the latecomers made new characters. I agreed and said that was fine. We started the game in the town of grethorn. I listened to death's description o the town and looked at my fellow players. Dwarves, elves, gnomes, halfings, all races were represented. I stood at the table and simply said, `` you all should elect me as mayor of grethorn.'' 
 
 The table erupted. A political opponent quickly rose, and fell when he was literally pushe back into his seat by the other players with hushed, `` first one gets dibs'' muttered across the table. 
 
 I quickly drew up a constitution for our town. I described our economy. I made our town great after several days of continuous unending play. Our town's population and the players at the game table expanded to several hundred. 
 
 Death started telling me of events. Farmers would come to me and complain of goblins or kobolds attacking their farms. I conscripted a hundred new players into being the town militia, on call to fight these lesser threats. I had them training 24/7 in game. Top-notch soldiers. Level ten just by training continuously an slaughtering hordes of goblins. I aske death what the victory conditions were. He simply stared at me. 
 
 We have now expanded to one million players, and our city is massive. Grethorn has grown from a small fishing community on the coast to a major trading hub on the Oceanside. We had been attacked by greater threats than goblinoids and kobolds at this point, but I dispatched my militia and soldiers and they quickly dealt with these threats. 
 
 I asked death again what the victory conditions were. He simply stared at me again. 
 
 Eventually, I became too old. I retired, an set an election among the players. A new mayor was elected. My character died of old age. I ha moved my chair to the back to help new players with character creation at this point. A new player showed up the day my character formally died. He introduced himself as chuk741776. Strange. He had the characteristics of my old mayor... 
 
 I marched up to death and confronted him. He simply stared at me one last time. And then stood. He lowered his hood, showing the face of my uncle, and long-standing dungeon master. He had died a year before me in real life. That was an eon ago. 
 
 My uncle, who had been my DM in death looked at me and said, `` What stops this world we have created from ring just as real as the one we were in? Were we not just characters played by souls?'' 
 
 He pointed at a set of stairs leading down. `` You can leave now that your character has died. I believe you have won.'' 
 
 He pointed to the pearly gates. `` You have also more than earned your slot in heaven.'' 
 
 I glanced at the two options. I looked at my uncle again. 
 
 `` I choose to become a dungeon master.'' 
 
 That is my story. Now that we have properly introduced ourselves, please pick up the dice on the table...
