---
Chapter 4
Cosmic Docter stood frozen, his gaze locked on the figure before him.
Chunks of flesh sloughed from his body like sand blown away by the wind, the stench of scorched metal and blood mingling in the air.
This curse did more than strip away his memories — it drained the very life from him, aging him decades in mere days.
> "You… truly mean to kill me?"
No reply.
A silver blade caught the dim light and lunged forward.
He closed his eyes, bracing himself. Waiting.
But… nothing came.
When he opened them again, he found himself standing in an endless white expanse.
The light here wasn't blinding — it was soft, like dawn fog clinging to the earth.
No sound. No scent. Only emptiness.
He took slow, tentative steps, thinking: Is this… heaven?
> "Oh… hello."
A voice broke the silence, calm yet unfamiliar.
Before him stood a man — no, himself — yet entirely different.
His body was entirely mechanical, joints and glowing conduits pulsing with a pale blue light.
> "Docter…?"
> "Perhaps," the other answered — then suddenly swung a blow as heavy as a sledgehammer.
Cosmic Docter collapsed, his body going numb.
In the darkness swallowing his vision, screams and curses roared inside his mind, a hundred voices overlapping in chaos.
---
Reaper awoke to find his arm fully healed.
Beside him, Flower was buried up to the neck in soil, like a cruel mockery of a grave.
> "Hey… wake up."
Reaper crouched down and gave him a light slap.
Flower's eyes cracked open, his voice hoarse and weak:
> "I… could use some water."
Reaper stood, scanning the area, but saw no one.
He didn't know that far away, spirits stood watching.
As a young Reaper, he still lacked the power to see them.
He approached a black gate, touched it — and was instantly pulled forward.
---
The world shifted.
Around him swirled a thick, milky white light, dense as fog.
A figure entirely white stepped closer, posture casual yet curious.
> "Heh… who's this?"
The figure ruffled Reaper's hair.
Reaper's cheeks warmed, but he didn't push away.
The feeling was… strange, but oddly comforting.
The white figure said nothing more, simply turned and walked away.
After a moment's hesitation, Reaper followed.
They stopped before a gate that opened into a place chillingly familiar.
A white-furred figure sat atop a pile of rubble, sipping a can of soda.
> "Wait… this is…"
This had once been a battlefield, the place where Flower had slain innocents.
Now only ruins remained… and the white-furred stranger, who vanished the moment he noticed Reaper's gaze.
---