I saw my grandfather resurrected, and I was frightened. Not by him. He was never one to inspire fright or inflict pain. No, I was frightened by the design which brought him back. People were never meant to resurrect. At least not in the world I grew up in. That was a world of simple causation, where there were reasons for things, and effects that followed logically from that. Where, once something was done, it could not be undone – but remedies could be made, as long as they adhered to the general framework.
But of course, everything changes with the blink of an eye. Suddenly there’s a black hole where there ought to be a sun. Suddenly there’s a city instead of a forest. Suddenly there are dead people, walking the streets at high noon.