Throughout my bitterly long lifetime on this Earth, man's single greatest achievement in making my job more difficult was the creation of Giftia.
Artificial life is an anomaly. My job, once upon a time, was solely dedicated to the harvesting of human lives. Death should not have had to deal with machines, but I do.
Remarkable, really. Creating Essence, and putting it into nothing more than metal, clockwork, and plastic. Memories real as any human's, collected after a cruelly short lifespan of 9 years. After which they die. Or suffer a fate worse than any death.
The first Giftia I had handled was a prototype, who lived not much longer than a few seconds. But during that time, it was alive enough to be placed into the cold care of my bony hands.
Her soul had asked so many questions. Questions about the knowledge she had no recollection of learning. About what it was like to be alive. What being an 'experiment' meant... I couldn't answer her.
I have had to escort so many souls. Every single kind. The evil, the good. Corrupt. But never, in my career in handling Giftia, have I ever found an evil soul. Only souls full of concern, for the people they left behind.
One Giftia in particular left an impression on me. A female who told me her name was 'Isla'. She told me many things; unlike other souls, who would stare at the animate skeleton with awed horror, she seemed almost excited at What Happens Next. But I could tell the pain was carved into her face like a statue - there was a human whom she shared her love with deeply, and they were together for a cruelly short time.
When a soul passes on, regardless of vessel, it lingers around the body for a short while. Isla told me that what she regretted most was not being able to wipe the tears from the human's eyes as he collapsed, her lifeless body in his arms. Or how she never truly reconciled with her former partner, nor told the people at the 'Terminal Service' how much she enjoyed making their tea. Whereas most Giftia souls were lighter than a feather, this one was weighed down by the regrets she harboured. But not one of which was because of her time with her Human.
Many, many human years later, when the soul of a human whose heart never truly recovered from losing his Giftia gently fell into my hands, did I ruefully smile. For during all that time, Isla had waited for him in the Afterlife.