Stein entered the artificially bright room, eyes quickly adjusting to the sunny bright paradox of the Death Room. As the best weapon meister under Death's armory, he was more than used to the area. Wheeling in on his rolling chair, he drew in a small inhale of his cigarette before letting the smoke roll out his mouth as he spoke.

"You called, Lord Death?" He greeted with that flat affect, glancing up to Death who stood in front of the mirrors he used to supervise student missions. The large shadowy figure turned to face Stein, his white skulled face cheerfully celebrating Stein's presence.

"Hello, what's up! Say, I've got a job for you," Death bounced bubbly, almost cartoonishly cheerful. And almost on cue, that 'job' made itself an appearance:

An unfamiliar face: you, standing beside death silently, watching Stein with curious eyes, as he did you.