The first rule of being Death 2.0? You don't have to reap everyone.
I scrolled through the manual again, flipping to the "Soul Collection Priorities" section. Turns out, only the important ones mattered — the ones whose deaths triggered major events, paradoxes, or delicious cosmic drama.
The screen hovering in front of me glitched slightly as names began pouring in like a never-ending cosmic spreadsheet.
DC UNIVERSE:List of Characters — AlivePending Deaths — All scheduled, except…
I paused, frowning as my eyes landed on a missing entry.Superman: Status — Unknown
"What the hell…" I muttered under my breath. "Didn't he die in the last movie? Pretty sure there was slow-motion, dramatic music, people crying—" I scrolled faster. "Wait… did I miss a new release?"
I sighed, snapping the manual shut with a mental command. The holographic text vanished with a soft pop, leaving me standing there, pondering cosmic bureaucracy.
"Ah, forget it," I said, cracking my knuckles with a grin. "Multiverses, timelines… probably rebooted him already."
With a snap of my fingers, the air shimmered, and parked at the curb materialized my latest indulgence: a Bugatti La Voiture Noire, glistening like liquid shadow under the sunlight. Matte-black finish, chrome rims sharp enough to slice reality, license plate reading: MORTE 2.0 — bold, smug, and fully legal thanks to divine intervention.
Sliding into the driver's seat, I adjusted my new frame — taller, broader, damn near carved from marble now. The perks of divine promotion. My reflection winked back at me in the rearview mirror — sharp jawline, eyes burning a swirling blue like twin galaxies caught in my skull.
If Death 1.0 was cloaked bones and ominous silence, I was the upgrade — sleek, arrogant, unapologetically stylish.
I turned the key. The Bugatti purred to life — a low growl that hinted at breaking speed limits and maybe, just maybe, ripping through dimensions if I wasn't careful.
But today? Subtlety. For once.
Easing into traffic, I drove like a normal, responsible, mortal-appearing citizen. The engine hummed softly beneath me, blending into the flow of city life.
Pedestrians crossed the street, oblivious. Tourists snapped photos. A street performer played guitar on the corner. From the outside, just another guy with too much money and questionable taste in license plates.
Then, flashing lights.Siren.A knock on the window.
I rolled it down, smirking as a traffic officer peered in, notebook ready.
"Sir," the officer said, glancing at the sleek curves of my car, then my suspiciously perfect face. "License and registration?"
"Of course," I replied smoothly, willing the documents into existence in the glove compartment. Paperwork immaculate, forged directly from the laws of physics.
Handing them over, I watched as the officer inspected them, eyes narrowing.
"Uh… 'Daniel, Title: Death 2.0, Employer: Divine Administration'…?" He squinted at the papers, clearly debating whether this was some prank or reality glitch.
I leaned in, eyes glowing faintly as I whispered, "Let's pretend you didn't see the cosmic credentials, yeah? Just doing my part keeping things tidy."
The officer stared for a heartbeat longer, then shrugged, handing the papers back. "Whatever. Keep it under the limit. Nice car."
With a playful salute, I rolled the window up and merged back into traffic, laughing to myself. Humans — wonderfully adaptable to absurdity.
As I cruised, my mind wandered back to the manual. Cosmic powerhouses, scheduled deaths, and those little notes scribbled by whoever managed the divine spreadsheets.
One particular entry blinked ominously in my thoughts:First Priority Target: Marvel Universe. One month deadline.
I arched an eyebrow. "One month to start the chaos… plenty of time to enjoy the perks."
Windows down, wind ruffling my hair, I turned a corner and caught my reflection in a storefront window — taller, stronger, eyes like swirling nebulae. Death had never looked this good.
And yet, despite the power, the rules were clear: no unnecessary soul harvesting. Only the important ones. The ones that tip the cosmic scale. Everything else? Optional background noise.
For now? It was time to enjoy life — or afterlife — with class.
"God?" I called out, half-expecting silence.
A voice crackled through my comm crystal, as casual as a celestial radio host. "What now, Daniel?"
"Just making sure," I grinned, shifting gears as the Bugatti roared softly, still within legal speed limits. "I can enjoy myself a bit, right? You know… perks, luxury, occasional ego trip?"
"You are Death 2.0," God replied with a chuckle that echoed through space-time. "But moderation, please. I'd rather not rewrite the multiverse again because you wanted to joyride through realities."
"Noted," I smirked, tapping the accelerator gently, feeling the hum of impossible engineering under my fingertips. "Subtle… for now."
As I drove off into the bustling cityscape, blending cosmic authority with mortal luxury, I knew this was only the beginning.
One month.First major soul.Marvel Universe on the clock.
But today? Just me, my Bugatti, and the quiet satisfaction of being the most stylish cosmic entity on the planet.
Death never looked so good.