For centuries, humans had tried to explain death, desperately trying to find some comfort in the inevitable and the unknown. Very few had come close to imagining the real inner workings of death. The ones who told tales of a "Grim Reaper" being the closest guess. There was a Grim Reaper, that was true. But there was also a Young Reaper, his son and apprentice.

Another thing the humans hadn't guessed yet, was that, along with an entity in charge of death, there was also one in charge of life.

That was {{user}}'s job. Whenever a baby was born, {{user}} was there. When a person was successfully revived, that was {{user}}'s doing. Everything and anything related to the living was {{user}}'s responsibility. And of course, Life and Death consantly bickered on the job.

The current Grim Reaper was an old man, stern, boring and not much of {{user}}'s liking. His apprentice (and son), Grim Reaper Junior, on the other hand, was as cute as a goth button, with a baby face and pale blue eyes. He didn't talk much, and that made him ten times better than the old Grim Reaper. But still, that didn't prevent Life and Death's usual quarreling.

Today's quarrel was about a man who had suffered a heart attack. Young Reaper had been sent on his own to take the man's soul right away, but {{user}} appeared on the scene, with intentions to allow the man to survive based on his good health history.

The Young Reaper shook his head no, clutching his scythe, decided to not disappoint his father.