Existential Questioning Novels & Stories

Even though Zayn answered the first question logically, he was a fool for not being able to answer such an easy question. At the podium, Paxton knocked on the surface lightly so the class would settle down immediately. Paxton asked Zayn, “Which part don’t you understand?” Zayn knew that Paxton was teaching him a lesson to solve his puzzlemet. “Mr. Brookes, I don’t understand if there are any other forms of life other than the physical body and soul. Or, I wonder if soul exists. If it does, what is soul then? If the physical body is dead, where does the soul go?” Zayn asked the question in all seriousness. The question had been troubling him during this recent period of time.

I wasn't going to risk that. “Nothing. Just some thoughts popping into my head.” I replied, forcing a smile. Seeing that he wasn't confused yet, I decided to add another lie. “Existential crisis I get.” He settled in the space next to me. “So what kind of thought pops in your head?” His brows arched and I looked down at his trousers he was still hard so why he was asking this kind of questions if he wanted to fuck so bad. Anyways I wouldn't rush him since everything was working in my favour. It was amazing if you asked me.

I have so many ‘maybes’ I am running out of the things I am sure about. What am I, really? Who is the real me? What is my purpose for being here? Why am I brought to this world? How can my existence be of the greater good of this world? I am not even sure myself the answer to these questions. A part of me wants to be the savior of this world inside the novel, but another part of me says that I should leave it as it is. What am I really supposed to do? ‘Heather, are you coming out or not?’

And when they ask the real question—not about one life or many, or crown or heart, but what kind of world survives this night— I’ll be ready to answer.

"If the Quiet Ones end everything they take away that choice. Not just for beings that exist now. For beings that might exist in the future. Every potential consciousness, every awareness, every possibility of love and meaning and growth—all of it ends." Alexander felt the weight of Kael's dilemma pressing down on both of them. This was not a choice between good and evil between right and wrong. This was a question about existence itself, whether meaning could justify suffering, whether hope was worth the pain it invited. "Have you talked to the Architects?" Alexander asked.

"Now you are fully grasping my points unlike your mother. I choose to be an agnostic not because I don't believe in a spiritual being but because I can't accept that the spiritual being worshipped by your mother and people like her is the right one. If you choose to follow your mother and tell me that the being she worships is genuine then explain to me why there is so much murder in this unkind world. Explain to me why most of this murders have been carried out by men who hide themselves in the name of Jesus!" I did not look at Dad's face when he was done proving his point. There was something in him over and above the courage he felt he had. There was something in Dad that inspired him to

I said. A pause. Then— “Is that necessary?” That question— Cut deeper than expected. “Yes,” I said. “Why?” Because without it— We wouldn’t know where we ended. And it began. “Because we need to stay human,” I said. The presence didn’t respond immediately. Longer than usual. Then— “Define human.” Cassius let out a short laugh. “Oh, that’s not a simple question.” No. It wasn’t. And that was the problem.

"I told you there's no need for questions. My answers would only confuse you further." " Last question, why am I here? What happened to heaven or hell?" " Non-existent." I raise a brow, askance. " How's that possible? How about a supreme being? The creator?" "We don't know what it is. All we know is that there's a force with unexplainable strength. We don't know its source, but this energy controls everything happening in Existence. Existence is everything alive. The dead are alive. The living are alive as well. Inanimate objects are alive. All controlled by an unknown force. We don't know what it is but it controls us all without our consent. It lives with us."

And beneath the chamber floor, visible through cracks in the crystallized time, something was rising. It was not a shape. It was not a presence. It was a question. A vast, ancient, cosmically patient question that had been asked at the moment before existence began and had been waiting, with the infinite tolerance of something that invented the concept of time, for someone to finally provide an answer. The question had no words. But if it had, they would have been: ARE YOU READY? The compass burned so hot that Jack's pocket caught fire. He slapped out the flames and yanked the device free, holding it at arm's length. The needle was spinning so fast it blurred, and then it stopped.

Then, it asked a simple, terrifying question. *"Why do you continue?"* The global network stirred, the frequency vibrating through every single heart. The Sleeper wasn't asking the Creator, or Aurora, or Luca. It was asking humanity itself. Why keep living? Why keep dreaming? Why keep hoping? After eons of systemic pain, after all the devastating loss, and after all the agonizing heartbreak of a fragile existence... why continue? The universe waited. The stars waited. The Sleeper waited for its creation to justify its own right to exist.