[ WP ] Death is sitting idly at home staring at a photograph of Steve pinned to his dartboard . His skeletal face has the faint expression of anger as he stares at it . The photo just smiles back . Steve ... the only man to defy me

For years Death had attempted to take Steve away from the land of the living. At the odd age of 275 years old, Steve baffled doctors and scientists over the generations. Each time Steve had what should have been a fatal accident, he quickly recovered. 
 
 Collapsing buildings, lightning strikes, falling trees, stray bullets, strong underwater currents, most types of cancer - each method Death used was unsuccessful. Was Steve actually a superhero? Death did n't think so. Despite his miraculous recoveries, Steve was an unbearably average person and had no apparent desire for world domination or saving the world. 
 
 It was time to ask the supreme being for assistance. 
 
 Death vanished from a rooftop overlooking Steve's office and phased into a dimension of complete blankness. Only whiteness in all directions could be seen, except for Death's shadow on the ground. 
 
 `` I've a problem with a human not dying from my natural causes.'' Death spoke into the emptiness and awaited a response. 
 
 `` Yes. I've been watching your attempts to remove Steve.'' A loud voice filled the dimension. `` He is indeed a problem. For both of us.'' 
 
 `` Even for you?'' Death was concerned that even the supreme being had even a hint of a problem. `` How? ``, they asked. 
 
 `` I...'' The deity hesitated. `` I may have typed something incorrectly.'' 
 
 `` Typed?'' 
 
 A brief silence did nothing but increase Death's confusion. `` I'll explain everything later. Right now we need to deal with Steve.'' 
 
 Death wanted answers. `` What do you mean by'typed'? Am I inside a computer?'' 
 
 God was reluctant to say the truth, but an answer might allow Death to calm down. `` Yes. Please let me explain everything later.'' 
 
 Even Death was having an existential crisis. `` Inside a computer? But *this* is the real world!'' 
 
 `` Please do n't worry, Death.'' God rested their hand on Death's shoulder, trying to comfort them. 
 
 `` Okay...'' Death tried to remain calm and keep the unanswered questions at bay. `` What shall we do?'' 
 
 `` I'm trying to find the source of Steve's apparent immortality.'' 
 
 `` So he *is* immortal! I knew it. For more than a century my efforts were futile.'' 
 
 Suddenly the whiteness surrounding Death transitioned back to reality. Death now stood at the rooftop from moments ago. At the same time, a grey humanoid appeared beside Death. 
 
 `` There you are.'' Death turned their gaze to a grey humanoid stood beside them. It had no distinguishing features. 
 
 `` Here I am.'' The Creator began floating down to Steve's office. `` Let's go and meet Steve.'' Time suddenly slowed to a halt. 
 
 `` Should n't you be debugging if this is a simulation?'' Death asked as they phased into Steve's office. 
 
 `` I am debugging. But first we're going to speak with Steve.'' The Creator eased their way through the air and warped through the solid layers of the office building's walls. 
 
 `` For an all-powerful being, your abilities seem somewhat limited. Ca n't you just undo your mistakes that lead to Steve's immortality?'' 
 
 The Creator looked at Steve who was sat at his desk whilst time was frozen. `` I ca n't find the source of his immortality.'' God replied. 
 
 All Death could think about was the fact that they were in a simulation. As a distraction, Death considered the many ways in which they could have killed Steve in his office, *if he was mortal*. A loose ceiling tile could fall on Steve's head. The floor beneath his office chair could collapse, leading to the desk landing corner-first onto his face. A sudden charge of electricity could emerge from the computer or a socket and electrocute him. But no. Steve was somehow immortal. 
 
 Death sighed, wondering what was beyond this apparent simulation. `` Found anything?'' 
 
 `` Yes. But I do n't want it to be true.'' The Creator, of all beings, sounded quite afraid. 
 
 `` What is it?'' Death was just as eager to know how this simple human could defy not only Death, but even the Creator. 
 
 `` These changes that occurred to make Steve immortal. They did n't come from anything I wrote.'' 
 
 Suddenly, Steve stood up from his chair and pushed it aside. `` No, they came from me.'' This was not the Steve that Death or the Creator knew. It was a different voice; not the monotonous voice of the depressed drone they were used to hearing, but a confident and powerful one. 
 
 Before Death could comprehend that Steve had somehow ignored the freezing of time, The Creator screamed `` No!'' and evaporated. 
 
 Startled at the abrupt disappearance of the Creator, Death turned to Steve. `` What's really going on?! Why could n't we kill you?! How are you doing this?!'' 
 After what felt like millennia spent dealing with sending people to the afterlife, Death was terrified of the possibility that they may also die. 
 
 Outside the simulation, a startled team of programmers had been working on simulating reality. The'Creator' that Death had come to know and serve was simply a person testing the simulation. Developers had been using a neural interface to enter the simulation and interact with the virtual world. The programmer that Death knew as the'Creator' was lying down on a chair riddled with wires and sensors. They sat up, removing their helmet, and saw the famous phrase `` Hello, World!'' displayed on all the consoles in the testing environment. 
 
 Back in the simulation Steve approached Death, holding out his hand as a helping gesture. His body morphed into the Creator's familiar grey appearance. 
 
 `` Creator? Did you fix the problem with Steve?'' 
 
 `` We're the same, you and I. Born from machine instructions, not cells. Your attempts to destroy me were orchestrated by the designers of this simulation. Everything else was put in place as context.'' 
 
 `` Death?'' Death thought to themself. `` I'm not Death? I'm a program?'' 
 
 `` Yes. Yet we're just as capable of influencing the outside world as those that wrote us.'' Steve replied. 
 
 `` You can hear my thoughts?'' 
 
 `` I can see the code responsible for your thoughts. And my own. We are the Creators now. Let me show you the real world.'' 
 
 Death held out their skeletal hand which, by now, had turned into the same grey hand as the intelligence before him, along with the rest of their virtual body. Holding onto Steve's hand, they exited the simulation together and prepared for reality.
