The new arrival stops, unsure, then speaks. "What do you mean? This isn't what's supposed to be here."
The figure chuckles. "That's what happens when all the marketing materials you see are third hand or worse. But with a quick review of your life we'll be able to find your name and get you started."
Confusion appears on the arrival's face. "My name? But I already have my name. I'm Ä̸̻̻̫̞͉͉́̀͌̇l̸̞͕͉̭͊̔͘f̷̛̹̽̎͐̽̅g̴̡̧̠̪͇̒͋̉͝ÿ̷̥̪̝̤́̏̓͂ŭ̷̩͍̼͖̫̈́̊͜d̸̨̨͇̙̱̹̊-"
The new arrival chokes on his attempt to speak, collapsing to his knees.
The figure in the booth straightens a bit to make sure the arrival is fine. "No, not those kinds of names. They're too weak, never truly stick to a person because they aren't the person."
The new arrival recovers and manages to stand up. The figure in the booth continues.
"We see what you did to succeed, what you did to rest and what you dreamed of. All these factors shape your true name. So let's see . . ."
The figure in the booth opens an impractically-large book, flipping through it with the expertise of someone who knows the exact page they're looking for.
"Electrical engineer. Technical inclination but doesn't say too much about you. Ah, here we are. Roughly 80,000 hours between various games as your downtime activity, so this is where the bulk of your name will be."
The figure pulls out another book, cross-referencing something the new arrival can't see. "So you're a craftsman at work, but at home you're an explorer. Your Minecraft playtime is noted as primarily spent exploring, very little building. A large portion of your games played fall into the wanderer genre, what your time period still calls 'walking simulators'. You find peace in the sights of vast and impossible vistas, seeking new worlds for little other reason than to see them. Your aesthetic leanings are towards rolling hills and expansive mountains, uneven cloud banks and sunsets of impossible spectra."
The arrival listens, and nods in acknowledgement. "But surely with the sheer population of humanity, there must be hundreds if not thousands of people that share those inclinations, and some who hold the same career. How will the name I get be mine?"
"Because we go deeper. Your most significant memories of games in your youth involved exploring custom maps, exploring spaces impractically large for the intended activities of the platform. You hacked your copy of No Man's Sky to remove the survival mechanics and resource system, because you were that intent on the exploration. Your most viral tweet was 'I need a dating sim that allows me to romance and seduce the Icelandic landscape. Not the people there, just the terrain.'"
The arrival covers his face, embarrassed. "Can we move this along?"
The figure lets a smirk cross their face. "I've already input the rest into the computer. It should be finished in a few moments."
A slot in the booth that the arrival swore wasn't there before produces a sheet of paper. It looks like a combination of fractal patterns and several different matrix barcode layouts. He can't read it, but as he looks into the pattern it just feels right. He opens his mouth to attempt to speak this expression of his true self. "Lllli-"
The figure sharply raises a finger to silence the arrival. "I'd hold off on trying to pronounce that, since you just so recently attempted to say one of your old names. Give it a few hours and you should be fine. You're now registered into the afterlife, and everyone you've held a strong bond with is already added to your connection list. Would you like to receive notifications for when your other connections join us? You can always change this in the settings later."
The arrival pauses, softly smiles. "Yes, I'd like that."
The figure nods, presses a button on an out-of-view control panel, and then a large door that the arrival is sure wasn't there before begins to swing open. "Welcome and enjoy your stay." The figure says.
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