pROLOGUE : a rEAPER iS bORN

I don't expect anyone to understand..."

A black leather glove is yanked over a hand and the fingers within squeeze with a tightened fist.

"I don't expect anyone to relate..."

Strobing images of fake faces blurred with their empty promises and muffled vows of lost causes flash before your eyes, as their wails of sorrow are drowned out by time. A leather trenchcoat is shrugged over a pair of shoulders.

"I don't expect much of anything...you can say nothing surprizes me, when I have seen it all."

A pair of silver tinted shades is placed over the pair of eyes that have seen it all. More strobing images of the most hated humans on Earth...all begging for mercy.

"...except, when I come for your soul..."

Leather gloved hands lace a steel toed combat boot and yank the bow loops tightly. The figure stands, as he visually takes you upon a journey throughout the sands of time, as you can hear each last breath of every soul he has taken.

"...I expect no substitutes."

A confident sneer appears across the lower half of an indistinguishable face. More images flash of graveyards, tombstones, infamous names long gone.

"There comes a time when history as you know it...and a future as you perceive it...collide."

Prismatic smoke seems to fill your view. Laughter fills your ears.

"I like to think of it as rewriting what will become history, as I go about my way."

View pans along the edge of the blade of a scythe.

"It's nothing personal. If your name is on the list..."

Leather gloves grip the shaft of the scythe firmly.

"The last grain of sand fell through your hourglass."

A flash of the silver tinted shades through the prismatic smoke, the sneer ever so present.

"I am the Reaper. An entity sent to distinguish of those the gods no longer care exist."

A close up of the silver tinted shades and the sneer, before it all fades to black...

"Enough about me...that's a story that will never end. So where else to start than where it all began?"