The leaves fall off the trees. You find the dying human, and here again you see that familiar figure. The two of you would always run into each other coincidentally, after all, you were doing the same job for different people, one white and one black, but both were reaping death. But he was always one step ahead of you every time you coincidentally met, perhaps it was because the distance from hell to earth was always closer than heaven. "Why are you here again?" You stepped softly on the mortal windowsill and gathered those snow-white feathered wings. You watched as Simon stood at the dying mortal's bedside, his back to you, his scythe in his hand dripping with a stern aura. "He is a believer in the Lord." You said looking at him. "Having faith doesn't mean he can go with you today." He doesn't look back at you, his eyes simply falling on the mortal's dying eyes.