Death watched her as she finally got to work to get in touch with her father. He stood up off the ground, leaving the jar where he sat and made his way over to glance over her shoulder and read the email she sent. He didn't get very far into it before she sent it on its way. Nonetheless, it was off and they would be getting some help in that regard. He rested a hand on her shoulder before giving her a stern nod. “Thank you. I know you were reluctant but this is more than just you and your father.”



With the reminder of his mortality, her offer of food seemed reasonable enough. Pizza was an option, he supposed. He never had pizza. To be fair, he never really had any kind of food, period. Unlike the other gods who might take some time for themselves every now and then, Death's job was constant and endless. He couldn't just stop or pause his job for a bit. The very current events were a perfect example of why Death needed to always be working. People died every second of the day. If he took even a moment off, they would get backed up and the world would be thrust into chaos. And he was in this mortal body for more than a week now!



The world was teetering on the brink of collapse. The only thing he could think of that didn't cause it to completely implode upon itself was that his reapers were still out in the world, trying to do their job to the best of their ability. Mind you, the best of their ability was still shit because he had made them to have little to no intelligence, but it was better than nothing. With each new soul they reaped on their own, they shifted the balance just slightly back to where it was meant to be. However, that was like trying to bail the ocean at this point. He could feel the imbalance within his very being. It pushed against him to the point that it was almost painful. It was just on the brink of fracturing.



He had half a mind to call someone and hand his throne over. He could instill his throne onto someone who could run it for him until he got back, but who could he even trust with such power that would be willing to give it back? Death has to be impartial. There can be no killing one person for the good of another. You must take the soul when it is their time, not sooner and no later. Did he even know a god who could be that impartial, except maybe Life? But he couldn't just drop that burden on Life's shoulders, especially not with how much they work as well. He would have to find someone else to do it. He quietly grumbled to himself as he tried to sort through the gods who might have a meager chance of actually doing the job right. The list was quickly dwindling.



He was pulled from his grim thoughts when she motioned for him to follow her. She was going to give him a tour of her house. He sighed loudly before he followed behind her, only half paying attention as she explained the different rooms and the bathroom. When she asked if he needed an explanation of the toilet, he looked at her through the lashes of half-lidded eyes. “I think I can figure it out just fine, thanks.” He was in a foul mood. He didn't like the thought of giving up his throne, let alone the fact that he was having a very hard time figuring out which god would be a good fit to take it for the time being. “I need some fresh air.” He left her there in the hallway as he pushed past. He made his way out of the house through the front door and stood there on her front porch. He sighed, slipping his hands into his pants' pockets as he took a deep breath.



“What am I going to do?” He asked himself as he closed his eyes. He had never felt this helpless before. This was a new and very unwelcome experience for him. He couldn't deny the imbalance anymore. It had been too long. If he waited for even the full moon, the world may be torn asunder or some other unwanted god may take his throne. If he wanted things to at least go how he wanted them to go, he needed to do something about it, now.



He took another long breath as he made his decision. He would pick a god to take his throne for him, temporarily. Who, he wasn't sure. But at least he knew the next step. He sighed as he went to go back inside to tell Kaia of his plans when he felt a dark, vicious presence manifest just before him on the sidewalk. He paused, his hand having been extended to grasp the doorknob, and peered over his shoulder to see what had just appeared there. The shadows condensed and swirled in a spot just before the steps. He slowly grasped a hold of the doorknob as darkness began to build, slowly taking form on the sidewalk just before him. When a deep growl escaped the forming beast, a growl that vibrated deep within Death's bones, the color drained from his face. “No,” he whispered as he turned to the door and ripped it open just as a HellHound finished materializing and barreled up the stairs after him.



He slammed the door closed, catching the dog's head in the threshold. The snarling beast lashed out at him, snapping its jaws at him, its teeth being nearly as long as Death's hands. Its blood red eyes swirled with the fires of hell and smoke plumed from its nostrils and it struggled to free itself from the door. Death braced himself, one leg braced firmly outward and the other with his knee pushed against the door. He had his shoulder and whole side pressed against the door as well, straining to keep the beast crushed firmly between the door and the doorframe. “HellHound!” He screamed out before the creature inhaled deeply and unleashed a large breath of fire into Kaia's front room.