[ WP ] Each morning , every human on Earth must pray their Reasons for not dying that day to the God of Death . If the Reasons are sufficient , that person will go on living , potentially forever . However , you are the longest living human by far , and people now hunt you in order to hear your Reasons .

I sat, shackled to the altar, as the minister's words echoed in my ears. 
 
 `` Dearest members, friends, and guests of the congregation. We are gathered here today to celebrate a momentous occasion...'' 
 
 How had it come to this? How had I let myself fall into their trap, lured in by the promise of food and a warm place to rest? 
 
 ``... Today, o blessed ones, we will be witnesses to the Ultimate Reason!'' 
 
 An enormous cheer erupted from the pews. I glanced up and saw the minister's feet marching towards me. He knelt down and produced a handheld microphone from behind his back, practically jamming it into my face. 
 
 `` Now why do n't you go ahead and tell these people your secret. These kind, generous, hardworking people who wish to enjoy life without fear of the Void.'' 
 
 I remained silent. 
 
 `` Speak up a little bit. We want to hear you loud and clear.'' 
 
 I spat on the altar. 
 
 `` Hm. All right, then.'' 
 
 Without warning, he punched me in the jaw. I spat again, this time splattering the altar's marble surface with red. 
 
 `` Let's try this again. What is the Ultimate Reason?'' 
 
 I looked towards the sky, defiantly speechless. The minister grabbed me by the neck. 
 
 `` I'm gon na give you to the count of three, you old bastard. One --'' 
 
 I grabbed the microphone from him, my shackles clanging against the marble, and cleared my throat. 
 
 `` Good people, my reasoning is simple. It is merely a three-step prayer of sorts, by which I acknowledge the omnipotence of the God of Death and admit my role as a mere witness to his power.'' 
 
 The crowd murmured excitedly. 
 
 `` Part One - O God of Death, I am a humble stitch in the great fabric of fear you weave among your lowly subjects.'' 
 
 The murmur in the crowd stopped. 
 
 `` Part Two - I long only to live a life in which I am left alone, to survive by my own means while you continue to do your work.'' 
 
 The crowd stared ahead blankly. 
 
 `` Part Three - May you harden the hearts of those who dare to question your glory.'' 
 
 Everyone in the sanctuary, including the minister, collapsed. 
 
 I slipped my hands out of the shackles with ease, tiptoed around the bodies that lay strewn across the ground, and left through the back doors. 
 
 What the congregation failed to realize is that the God of Death comes in many forms... 
 
... including an old bastard.
