When the entity gave me the choice, it couldn’t have foreseen how far I was prepared to take it.

Older than time itself, yet that faceless void with that outstretched claw couldn’t have known what was about to happen.

Even now, it never speaks, and we’ve done this so many times that the fabric of my sanity is no longer recognizable. Who was I? It no longer matters.

I smile. Or maybe I did smile, or will smile - I never remember.

Reaching for the coin, glancing up into what was once so ominous, I started to pause. Did I speak? Do we both just know? It never lasts long enough to fully form the memory.

The coin lands on heads.

“Just after I decided to flip the coin.”

The figure begins to shriek, but I never hear what happens next.

I am eternal, and Death is my slave.