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[ Oh, come on. He sounded so cool and everything.

Ivan sucks in a breath, pressing his bloodied hand to the gaping hole in his shoulder as it knits itself closed in a matter of short moments. ]

I'm a grim reaper, James.

[ As if to punctuate his point, the scythe still in his other hand dissipates into a whisp of shadow. ]

I collect the souls of the dead and ferry them to the other side.

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