No warnings for this, really. Fairytales, I guess.


Let me tell you a story, a story thought to be nothing but a fairytale. The problem with fairytales, however, is that if you disregard them, make fun of them, in the end, you might find yourself living one.

You should always listen to them, that way you know what to do, when you stand there, handfallen, realizing you're living a fairytale - and not one of the good ones.
Quite now, settle down, and let me describe what happens, when you let death become your life.
Who's story this is? Why, it's mine, of course.

I come from a world, ripe with magic, filled with impossible feats made everyday business - a world where there were almost no fairytales, for nothing was wondrous enough. The few fairytales that existed, was thought ridiculous - artifacts with the power to make someone more powerful than Death? No, no, no.

Yet, I found myself the bearer of these legendary artifacts, and found myself more powerful than thought possible.

I am Death, the destroyer of worlds.


Yeah, I still don't own this.