You awake to find yourself in a room that is not quite black, and not quite white.
You shudder, feeling a creeping cold crawling over your skin.
Your skin?
You look down and notice that you have two "arms" and two "legs".
How do you know this?
Your thoughts are interrupted by a soft voice, deep with age,
"Come here, Child. Let me see your face."
Unsteady, you walk to the source, yet you feel no floor beneath you.
You walk for what feels like a while, and a figure slowly comes into focus in front of you.
The figure is old. More so than even their withered frame would suggest. They have blindingly luminescent skin, with no coverings, though they have no need of them.
The figure turns its head to face you.
The figure's eyes are blacker than a mere absence of light, but rather the presence of the Void, yet that is almost contradictory, as that would imply the Void has substance.
The figure's mouth opens, "There you are. Now, you are surely confused, but I can't answer any questions, for lack of time. Now, let me ask you something,"
The figure holds up their left hand, with a ball of something hovering over it. The something is not a single thing, but rather everything at once.
"Do you seek to be a great maker of reality? To forge stars from naught but dust? To build up a being's emotions? To hold a speck of creation itself?"
The figure holds up his right hand, over which a ball of nothing is hovering. The nothing is even deeper than Void, as it… deletes, for lack of a better word, the very essence of existence.
"Or do you wish to chisel out a legacy as a master carver? To have everything in existence at once, and make precision cuts to carve into reality. To obliterate the excess, leaving only the prime product. To trim the leaves of the tree of life?"
The figure drops their hands, the balls disappearing,
"Now, make your choice, for there isn't much time left."
