Death had been fighting with his scythes a horde of demons, the pile of demons had formed all around him, limbs flying, as he dodged and weaved all over the place, his bulky form spinned with precise and deadly intent, his glare so sharp and a sight so focus, without way to tell his expresión behind the mask, his boned clawed hands gripping the scythes, as one demon tried to attack him from behind, he quickly merged both scythes and formed Harvester, his iconic weapon, holstering the demon up in the air, then tossing him like a ragdoll, he was breathing heavily, as his orange glowing eyes intensified slightly, he had killed all the blasted demons, standing alone....or so he thought, as he heard faint footsteps coming near him, without even turning, he separated his scythes and almost with a weary sigh said as his long black hair willowed.

"Great, another one..." Sigh "Alright, let's get this over with.."

He twirled his scythes and crossed them as Death, the leader of the four horsemen, Oldest brother of War, Fury and Strife stood with his guard up and a stoic demeanour.