The End of the Gray Line

I replied to a post five years ago. I didn't know it at the time, but it was the entrance to another road. Later someone told me: This world is a greenhouse, and the Doomsday Judgment is regular pruning. And my existence is a bug. I'm just an ordinary person who was pushed onto a ship and pushed to the end of the gray line. Behind you are the people who could not be saved, and in front of you is a place no one has ever been before. The man who pushed me said He is merciful. Says He just wants a story that never ends. Then I'll leave. Go to the end, go outside, go to Him. Then ask Him: "Is my story good enough?"