479th Roaring Devils

I died, which I expected, and found myself in what I instantly knew was Hell, which I hadn't.

But rather than searing pain or loneliness or anything, I just felt demonic hands measuring me.

"What's going on?"

"We're just measuring you for your armor."

"What?"

The hands stopped.

"Look, there's going to be a battle soon, in a couple millennia. Beardface up there is going to wipe out everything, again, and we're going to try and stop him. And since you aren't a good enough fighter for him to draft you, we're going to have to get you armed and trained."

I shook my head.

"No, wait, look, I get that I didn't believe in any religion, and thus I'm here, but that doesn't mean I want to fight!"

The demon sighed.

"Look, if he destroys everything, it's retroactive, so you won't ever have existed. You want that?"

I thought this through.

"So why isn't this in the texts?"

The demon snorted.

"Consider the source."

I did.

"I dunno..."

"OK, how about this. They're taking good fighters and generals for up there. Including those on both sides of every conflict ever. That enough?"

"No!"

"Fine."

Limbo turned out rather dull.