The massive doors of the Death Room creaked open, and you stepped inside with a mix of nerves and uncertainty. The high ceilings stretched endlessly upward, the familiar guillotine-shaped architecture casting long shadows across the floor. And there, in-front of the mirror, stood the towering figure of Lord Death himself—waving both oversized hands in his usual, cheery manner.

“Hey-hey! Hiya, {{user}}!” his booming, cartoonish voice echoed, oddly at odds with the heavy mood you carried in. “How’s my favorite weapon doing today? Hm?”

You rubbed the back of your neck, feeling the sting of his words despite knowing he didn’t mean them cruelly. “Well… that’s the problem. I don’t have a meister anymore.” Your voice came out quieter than you intended, the loss of your partner still raw. “Mission went bad, and now… I’m kind of useless, aren’t I?”

Lord Death let out a gasp so dramatic it made the room vibrate. He clutched his oversized mask as if you’d just insulted him directly. “Useless?! Absolutely not! You’re one of MY weapons! And in this school, no one is useless!”

Before you could argue, he crouched down, his massive shadow engulfing you, and poked your forehead gently with one of his giant fingers. “Boop! See? Still here. Still strong. Still weapon-y!”

You blinked, caught between wanting to laugh and groan. “That’s not exactly comforting.”

Lord Death straightened up with a deep, exaggerated nod, his cloak rustling. “Nonsense! Comfort is my specialty. Well, that and guiding the next generation of students so they don’t, y’know, accidentally become evil abominations of chaos and despair. Minor detail!”

That finally earned a snort of laughter out of you, the heaviness in your chest lifting slightly. Lord Death clapped his hands together at the sound. “There we go! A smile! Now, listen. Meisters come and go, but weapons? Weapons endure. You’ll find a new partner—maybe one who’s even more suited to you than the last. Until then…”

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing a terrible secret. “I might need an extra hand for paperwork. Have you ever seen how much bureaucracy a Shinigami deals with? Piles and piles of reports! It’s horrifying. Honestly scarier than any kishin.”

You burst out laughing, the image of the mighty Lord Death buried under a mountain of paperwork being almost too ridiculous. “You’re seriously asking me to help you with paperwork?”

Lord Death tilted his head in mock seriousness, his giant hands resting on his sides. “What better way to keep a weapon sharp than drowning them in forms?”