The female Reaper stood as the form of death became apparent through the mist. The book in her pocket burned with the knowledge she was missing souls. However she shoved down the impulse to run off and find said souls. This was more important. She took a step forward as he voice boomed through the small corridor of bones. Even as he fellow Reapers stayed in their place, in awe of the fact that Death rode once again among the living. Not everyone had believed it could work. Even she hadn't hoped, if she could have still felt such a thing. 

"I have." She said plainly. Her speech not overly flowery like it once was. 

"It was necessary." Another Reaper added. 

"It was time." A third said. 

"We need you." The fourth summed it all up. For this was all about need. Need in order to do their job better, the thing they were created for. The crowd of Reapers stood and waited to see what would happen next. Would Death be displeased? Or would he grant their wish of a smaller human population? Would he even care? But worry was not something any of them felt. Neither was fear. So they waited to see what would happen. If their plans failed, well, they had more plans. One of them included binding Death to their will. To do his job.