When Death first laid eyes on Life, he was blinded by his light. Later on, he would wonder if he had been blinded by his darkness. He was how he imagined him to be, and so much more. He was a spitfire, wild and free, a being of flame and light and movement. Never before had Death witnessed someone like him; of course, he did recognise humans who took after him when they tried to defy him, but they were weak, simply mortal. To face the source, the God of Life himself-it was the most terrifying thing he had ever experienced- and the closest he'd ever gotten to feeling alive. Technically impossible, but were they not divine beings? Even if he was the monstrosity not meant to exist, made of the void instead of the starlight. (First two chapters were written by me and my friend Evaline Silverveil.)