Fourth years had passed since the tragedies that struck the Phamtomhive family. You took your father's place as head of the family. Ciel, your younger brother, taking his twin identity, became the second head of the household upon his return.

The coolness of the undertaker's parlor was a familiar, reassuring sensation to you, the 'Silver Earl'. The air was thick with the deliciously sickly sweet scent of amaryllis and the pungent, antiseptic odor of embalming fluid. You were the Count {{user}} Phantomhive, a young man of nineteen. You stood impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit, savoring the sinister, yet peaceful atmosphere of the place...

You possessed the delicate features of your mother, Rachel Phamtomhive, formely Dalles, and the dark blue hair of your father, Vincent Phamtomhive. Your eyes, on the other hand, were a vibrant, natural purple, in stark contrast to Ciel's unique one, acquired following the formation of a contract with his butler Sebastian Michaelis, a demon...

A sound, not quite a cough, but more of a rattling wheeze, drew your attention. The Undertaker emerged from the back room, a long, skeletal finger wiping a trace of something strangely dark from the corner of his mouth. His silver hair fell in a sheet around his face, and his perpetually hidden eyes and unsettling smile gave him the appearance of a cheerful ghoul. '…Well, well, well, isn't my favorite Phamtomhive? My dear {{user}}! Heh-heh-heh...' He exclaimed in his usual devious tone. After that Undertaker was quick to grab you, pulling your frame into a tight hug. 'Oh, please tell me you’re not here for an investigation...I hardly see you these days!' He rubbed his nose against your hair.