47

The soul found itself standing before an unfinished building, its skeletal frame reaching toward the sky. The air smelled of cement and dust, and the distant clang of metal echoed faintly. Tools lay scattered around — a worn hammer, a dented hard hat, gloves stiff with dried concrete.

The Angel of Death appeared beside the soul, gazing up at the structure.

"You didn't just build walls and floors," the Angel said softly. "You built the foundations of people's lives."

The soul chuckled bitterly. "Didn't feel like that. Just felt like sweat, blisters, and a sore back. Nobody looks at a skyscraper and thinks about the guy who poured the concrete or carried the bricks."

The Angel tilted their head thoughtfully. "Maybe they don't. But they still live and work in what you made. Families will move into homes you helped raise. Children will grow up under roofs you laid. People will chase dreams in buildings you never got to step inside. You weren't just building structures — you were shaping futures."

The soul's voice wavered. "All I wanted was to earn enough to take care of my own family. To make sure they were safe."

The Angel nodded. "And you did. But you also gave that safety to countless others, even if they never knew your name."

The soul looked back at the rising building, seeing it differently now — not as an endless task, but as a monument to endurance. Each beam held the weight of sacrifices. Each wall stood tall, carrying the quiet pride of hands that made it possible.

"I guess… I never thought about it like that."

The Angel smiled gently. "That's the nature of builders. Your work stands even when you're gone. And the world keeps standing because of people like you."

The soul took a shaky breath, then nodded. "I think I'm ready now."

The Angel extended a hand. "Let's go."

As the site faded into light, somewhere, a family stood in front of their new home. The father smiled, holding the keys tightly. He looked at the walls — strong, steady, reliable — and whispered, "Feels like a good place to start fresh."

The soul's legacy lived on, brick by brick.