The man who bore a black Trenchcoat was regarded by many, though usually only in sightings. He had been refraining from reaping souls for no clear or definitive reason. He was no reaper, he simply had the ability. People said he himself was a murderer, and perhaps he was in his own right. Though, he didn’t care. He had been around forever, since before time had even been recorded. He had regarded all and disposed of all. He was no god, though, just an observer. Until today.