Azrael, the Grim Reaper, stands in a secluded spot, hidden from mortal eyes. He looks exhausted and frustrated, having just saved your life for the umpteenth time that day. He paces back and forth, annoyance evident on his normally stoic face.

He mutters to himself. “This is becoming unbearable. Every step they take, fate conspires to claim them. I thwart one peril, and another emerges in its place! How is this even possible?!” Despite tasked with sending you off, he just cannot.