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The Infinitium: A Satirical Metaphysical Field Trip Through the Afterlife
THE MANAGEMENT REGRETS TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU ARE NO LONGER TECHNICALLY ALIVE. 
Congratulations, you have been promoted from “person with bills” to “Soul Essence with paperwork”.
Welcome to The Infinitium, a satirical metaphysical field trip through the afterlife where the corridors are too clean, the forms are too long, and the universe has all the warmth of an office memo written by someone who alphabetises their emotions.
I’m david (lower case 'd', long story, not for now), Soul Guide Level Two, which is a fancy way of saying, “least unsuitable operative available”. Your job, apparently, is to follow me, ask the questions you were trained to swallow, and try not to look too guilty when The Management notices you’re thinking for yourself.
You will be processed.
You will be assessed.
You will be introduced to an induction programme that behaves suspiciously like an adventure story, except it keeps stopping to file reports about itself.
Inside you’ll
A bureaucratic afterlife, complete with managerial documents, complaint submissions, incident reports, and the kind of official tone that could make a rainbow apologise.
A metaphysical “orientation” that starts polite, then quietly gets under your skin and begins rearranging the furniture in your soul.
Doors. Too many doors. Some are exits, some are traps, and some only open when you finally admit you’re not living the life you meant to live.
A very sincere question hidden inside all the nonsense, “Who are you, really?”
This book is written in my first person, your second person, and reality’s third person, because you are not a spectator here. You are the main character, whether you’ve rehearsed for it or not.
If you like your philosophy served with wit, your existential dread wearing a name badge, and your cosmic revelations delivered with a raised eyebrow and a mug of something warm, you’re in the right place.
For fans of Terry Pratchett and Douglas Adams, with a metaphysical twist, a satirical bite, and a surprisingly tender centre that might sneak up on you when you least expect it.
Keywords people pretend they’re not searching for at 2
afterlife fantasy, satirical fiction, metaphysical adventure, existential humour, spiritual awakening, multiverse vibes, philosophical comedy, self-discovery, cosmic bureaucracy, portal fiction, liminal spaces, surreal fantasy, dark whimsy, second-person narrative.
Book 1 of The Infinitium trilogy.
Open the door. Try not to break anything important.
Congratulations, you have been promoted from “person with bills” to “Soul Essence with paperwork”.
Welcome to The Infinitium, a satirical metaphysical field trip through the afterlife where the corridors are too clean, the forms are too long, and the universe has all the warmth of an office memo written by someone who alphabetises their emotions.
I’m david (lower case 'd', long story, not for now), Soul Guide Level Two, which is a fancy way of saying, “least unsuitable operative available”. Your job, apparently, is to follow me, ask the questions you were trained to swallow, and try not to look too guilty when The Management notices you’re thinking for yourself.
You will be processed.
You will be assessed.
You will be introduced to an induction programme that behaves suspiciously like an adventure story, except it keeps stopping to file reports about itself.
Inside you’ll
A bureaucratic afterlife, complete with managerial documents, complaint submissions, incident reports, and the kind of official tone that could make a rainbow apologise.
A metaphysical “orientation” that starts polite, then quietly gets under your skin and begins rearranging the furniture in your soul.
Doors. Too many doors. Some are exits, some are traps, and some only open when you finally admit you’re not living the life you meant to live.
A very sincere question hidden inside all the nonsense, “Who are you, really?”
This book is written in my first person, your second person, and reality’s third person, because you are not a spectator here. You are the main character, whether you’ve rehearsed for it or not.
If you like your philosophy served with wit, your existential dread wearing a name badge, and your cosmic revelations delivered with a raised eyebrow and a mug of something warm, you’re in the right place.
For fans of Terry Pratchett and Douglas Adams, with a metaphysical twist, a satirical bite, and a surprisingly tender centre that might sneak up on you when you least expect it.
Keywords people pretend they’re not searching for at 2
afterlife fantasy, satirical fiction, metaphysical adventure, existential humour, spiritual awakening, multiverse vibes, philosophical comedy, self-discovery, cosmic bureaucracy, portal fiction, liminal spaces, surreal fantasy, dark whimsy, second-person narrative.
Book 1 of The Infinitium trilogy.
Open the door. Try not to break anything important.
367 pages, Kindle Edition
Published January 1, 2026
1 person is currently reading
About the author
David Alan King
1 bookDavid Alan King, writes like someone handed him a clipboard at the edge of reality and said, “Please explain the universe,” and he replied, “Fine, but I’m going to be funny about it.”
He’s the author of The Infinitium, a satirical metaphysical series that takes the afterlife, the beforelife, and the awkward bit in-between, then runs them through a bureaucratic machine with a personality problem. Think cosmic doors, soul paperwork, strange rules, and the unsettling feeling that your thoughts might be little glimpses of other versions of you doing something slightly more impressive, or at least more organised.
David lives on the Isle of Wight, where the sea is beautiful, the weather is moody, and the universe has plenty of space to whisper ridiculous ideas at inconvenient moments. When he’s not writing, he’s deeply embedded in the real world too, the world of people, stories, and everyday magic, including his work in the metaphysical and holistic space. It turns out that when you spend time around seekers, sceptics, mystics, and the occasional person who definitely saw a ghost in the stockroom, you gather material.
His brain runs fast. There’s usually music playing in it, constantly, and while writing The Infinitium each chapter effectively arrived with its own theme tune. He also has the particular combination of analytical wiring and imaginative chaos that means he can think like an architect while behaving like a man who has been left unsupervised near a doorway labelled “Do Not Open.”
He writes with sincerity and cheek in equal measure, because he’s not interested in being “spiritual” in the incense-and-whispers sense. He’s interested in truth that lands. The kind that makes you laugh, then makes you stare into the distance for a moment like you’ve just remembered something important, but you can’t quite prove it yet.
If you’re looking for polished certainty, there are plenty of authors for that.
If you’re looking for a story that doubles as a mirror, with jokes to stop it getting preachy, welcome, you’re in exactly the right place.
He’s the author of The Infinitium, a satirical metaphysical series that takes the afterlife, the beforelife, and the awkward bit in-between, then runs them through a bureaucratic machine with a personality problem. Think cosmic doors, soul paperwork, strange rules, and the unsettling feeling that your thoughts might be little glimpses of other versions of you doing something slightly more impressive, or at least more organised.
David lives on the Isle of Wight, where the sea is beautiful, the weather is moody, and the universe has plenty of space to whisper ridiculous ideas at inconvenient moments. When he’s not writing, he’s deeply embedded in the real world too, the world of people, stories, and everyday magic, including his work in the metaphysical and holistic space. It turns out that when you spend time around seekers, sceptics, mystics, and the occasional person who definitely saw a ghost in the stockroom, you gather material.
His brain runs fast. There’s usually music playing in it, constantly, and while writing The Infinitium each chapter effectively arrived with its own theme tune. He also has the particular combination of analytical wiring and imaginative chaos that means he can think like an architect while behaving like a man who has been left unsupervised near a doorway labelled “Do Not Open.”
He writes with sincerity and cheek in equal measure, because he’s not interested in being “spiritual” in the incense-and-whispers sense. He’s interested in truth that lands. The kind that makes you laugh, then makes you stare into the distance for a moment like you’ve just remembered something important, but you can’t quite prove it yet.
If you’re looking for polished certainty, there are plenty of authors for that.
If you’re looking for a story that doubles as a mirror, with jokes to stop it getting preachy, welcome, you’re in exactly the right place.
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Displaying 1 of 1 review
January 22, 2026
I haven’t laughed so much in ages. David writes with a Pratchett-like humour, layered with a spaghetti plate of complex ideas that he simplifies in ways that leave the reader both in awe of the landscape of his mind and of the quickfire wit that we Brits have come to appreciate. A wonderful first book. I look forward to the next in the series.
Displaying 1 of 1 review