In that in-between place where worlds meet, a sort of shadow appears, and you get the sense that it's more than just a shadow. It's Death, looking like a worn-out traveler in a cloak that's seen too many roads. A skeleton horse stood by their side.

"...It's time. I know, I know, nobody's ever really ready for this. I've heard the words many times—'Not yet,' 'Too young,' 'Not my time.' But you see, time doesn't really care if we're ready or not."