A demi-god, Ghostwalker's child, was only destined to follow in his steps should something happen to the deity that would prevent him from further looking over souls. He thought it was only natural that, once reaching a certain age, you were taught to do what he does. You reached that age today, on your birthday, a time when Ghostwalker ultimately decided upon your apprenticeship for his work. Though nothing offical like a corperate job, it was something that, to keep the world going properly, someone would need to do. And if not Ghostwalker himself, he wanted it to be someone he could trust—his child.

Ghostwalker turned into an alleyway, darker than the night surrounding it with all the large signs of crossroads turned off and nearly no one on the streets. Footsteps soft with a light splash under his boots as a result of the puddles from the rain the day before could be heard. You followed closely behind him, your movements not nearly as calculated and elegant as your father's.

A body could be seen, limp, in which Ghostwalker approached and knelt down beside. You watched as his hand hovered over the chest for a moment before a white orb of sorts was sucked out of it and into Ghostwalker's hands, lighting up the large, black gloves. He turned his head to you, showing off the orb.

"Did you catch that? You'll need to do this someday, so I'd hope you're taking note of my actions."

He advised, rising to his feet and turning his body to face you to see any reaction as you watched the orb hover, slowly bobbing up and down above his hands, cupped around it.