Fate is listening.

You proclaim yourself ruler of the fish.

In their haste to prostrate themselves at your feet, the fish cease to maintain the structural integrity of the room, and it collapses, crushing you.

You are in a room.

The fish already have a cizilization. Or do you want to be more specific?

"When life gives you fish, make sushi"

You walk over to the wall and pull out a fish that looks nice. Other fish proceed to fall out of the wall and onto your head.

Fate cuts your life thread.

You die.

You are in a room made entirely of living fish. Their fish eyes staring blankly at you at they squirm. A fish drops on your head. It's an unpleasant sensation.

Fate chuckles, then cuts your life thread.

You die.

You are in a room.

........You decide you want a city. You gather tools, and labour away for immesurable hours (you don't have a watch), but eventually, you gaze upon a remarkable underground city. Your work even including buildings that reach from ground to roof, helping to retain the support needed to prevent collapse.

It's beautiful.

But your heart sinks, as you realise that for all this time spent building a city for thousands, there's not one other to share it with. And your old body gives up.

You died.

You are in a room.

Deciding you want a place of your own, you decide to chisel a home out of the rock, using the stalagmits you didn't impail yourself with.

You are now standing in a rock room.

You grab your trusty shovel, and ram it into the floor. It cracks and crumbles beneath you, dropping you into a cave.

No you didn't get impaled by a stalagmite.

You pull a skin-tight sealing helmet out of a plothole, a place it over your head.

As you consume the last whiffs of oxygen, you feel comfort, knowing that your face will be protected, as your corpse hurtles off into space.

You are dead.

You are in a room.