Seth peeked back into the livingroom, specifically at the broken old clock.

Said clock was a rather large grandfather clock that appeared to have been made out of twisted bones and polished sulfur. It had a very realistic Spotted Owl made out of granite that was attached to the top with steel. The glass that covered the clockface was broken and cracked, while the actual clockface was black with white roman numerals. The pendulum that hung beneath it somehow continued to swing, making an eerie tock tock tock noise, while the clock's hands failed to move. It gave off an abandoned, desolate vibe and honestly creeped the ever-loving bejeebers out of the young Grim Reaper.

He shivered and turned back to Syra. She was clad in a mostly-black uniform that consisted of a long-sleeved shirt, a miniskirt, and leggings with boots. All black. She wore several white belts around her waist. Her reasons for wearing so many belts would always be a mystery.

He looked away from his sister to the 'food' she was burning. That... That's not edible... he thought. He was getting sick just looking at the stuff, so he redirected his attention to the sound of footsteps quickly decending from the stairs. He knew it was his father before he could even see him.

His father wore a simple black turtleneck and loose black jogging pants with black shoes. A metal bracelet that looked sort of like a skeleton's hand covering his own, known here as a 'Mana Glove', adorned his left wrist. A Mana Glove was a part of a set military of armor that allowed the wearer to use a specific kind of magic, depending on the wearer's Soul and Mana type. (For example, if someone's Soul type is electricity, but their Mana type is fire, they will have the power of explosives.) Seth felt like a black sheep, or in this case a white sheep, surrounded by all the dark colors. Of course, he had the maids and the butlers, but...

Even the kitchen he and his sister were standing in was dark, considering it was the middle of winter, almost 7:00 in the morning, the lightbulb was dim and dying and the curtains were drawn.

Seth sighed, walking into the livingroom and cutting on a lamp. The lightbulb in that was also quite dim. He groaned in annoyance, hitting his head against the wall with a muffled thud. "Looks like I'm going to have to buy some fresh lightbulbs," he muttered to himself. "Bah! Why is it so dark in here anyway?"

"Because you didn't get any lightbulbs the last time you went to the store," Lord Death said apathetically, walking over to the fridge.

Seth narrowed his eyes, an annoyed frown displayed on his pale face. "I wasn't asking you!"

"Then who were you talking to?" Lord Death queried.

"No one!" Seth exclaimed.

"Oh? If you weren't talking to anyone than you wouldn't have said anything." his father replied. Seth just glared at him, grumbling to himself. He forgot not to argue with his father, even though he was usually pretty funny and good-natured about it. No one wins an argument against Lord Death.

Everytime someone is dumb enough to start an argument with him, he leads them in a pointless, often hilarious circle of a conversation. He finds it amusing.

Seth quickly looked at the working digital clock on the kitchen oven just as Lord Death finished off a peice of Syra's burnt 'toast', gagging. It was 6:54. "Uh, Dad. We're late."

"Hm? Seth, we live right next to the school. It's a five second walk there, we're not late for anything." Lord Death replied.

But, of course, Seth was a very punctual person. To him, he's late if he's not ten minutes early. "B-But-"

"Calm down." Syra said. "We still have our medicine to take, remember?"

"Oh, God. Do we have to take it again today?" Seth pouted.

"Seth, you and your sister have to take it every morning." Lord Death reminded. "You need it." he paused for a second. "Seth, watch your mouth!"

Something you need to know about Lord Death is that he regards himaself as God. Not a god, but the God. The 'Creator', even though he knows he's not, and he does not like it when someone took God's name in vain, even his own children. Especially his own children.

"Can't we just, you know, skip a day?"

"No!" Lord Death snapped. "Last you did that you both ended up in the hospital!" He stormed into the livingroom, opened the closet door and retrieved a breifcase from it.

The breifcase was silver, with black and dark gray lines that resembled arrows flying in different directions. It was large and bulky and was held together with a large latch. Lord Death undid the latch, popping open the breifcase.

The inside was padded, made out of a soft, silky cloth. There were several indentations, one held a large syringe, the second had a needle that fit on the syringe and the rest were small capsules that contained some sort of mahogany-colored liquid.

Lord Death took the syringe and attached the needle to it. He stuck the needle in one of the capsules, drawing the liquid into the syringe. He walked over to the twins, syringe in hand, and injected half of the substance into each of them.

Seth sighed, becoming a bit relieved. He knew the medicine was to help them, enjoyed the feeling it gave him after taking it, but his slight fear and large disliking of needles made him hesitant to take it everyday.

"Thank you, Dad." Syra said. The medicine had a calming, almost theraputic, effect and soothed both their mind and hearts-literally. It opened their minds, allowing them to think faster and clearer, and didn't allow them to become over-excited. If they were to become excited, without their medicine to aid them, they would become very ill and would need hospitilazation.

Lord Death gave a small grunt in response before looking at the clock. "You guys can leave, now."

Seth grabbed his bookbag and ran out the door. Syra's departure was more calm. Lord Death chuckled good-naturedly before grabbing the keys to the school and following them. The path they walked on was cobblestone, fresh snow was falling from the dark gray sky. A cuckoo clock , some bricks and a few broken toys floated by, but that was normal in the world's current state.

Soon the cobblestone gave way to pavement... and soon to stairs. The stairs that led to the new and improved DWMA, or Shibusen.

The previously goofy-looking three-toothed skull had been replaced by a more menacing skull that was pointed at the ends of it's 'teeth' and had what appeared to be glowing red eyes. The rest was relatively similar, though it was bigger and had currents of electric-blue energy, known as 'Mana', running visibly through the whole school.

Lord Death stuck the key in the large magic-protected padlock, opening it with a hearty ka-chunk sound. The padlock and chain fell away as the double doors opened slowly, a gust of wind emmiting from the gray stone doors.

The family of reapers stepped inside the school, the doors closing behind them. Seth immediately ran towards the dorms were the night students stayed at, near the dungeons. He had to wake his best friend. It was his job during the school week. On the weekends and on holidays, she stayed either at his house or with her parents and older and younger brothers.

Soon he came to the ironclad door and opened it. He saw his friend, Blind Makenshi; daughter of Chrona and Ragnorak Makenshi, lying on her bed, which was bolted to the floor, wide awake and still in her pajamas, which was a lavender nightgown that was the same shade as her hair. She had already put her blindfold on. "Get out," she growled. Her voice was smooth, but hoarse.

Seth raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Why?"

"You didn't knock." she replied sourly. Seth rolled his eyes good-naturedly, a bit glad she was blind so she couldn't see the gesture of general disrepect.

"OK, Blind. Whatever." Seth replied. Blind was actually her nickname, her real name being Anya and she wore a blindfold for the same reason a normal blind person would wear sunglasses-so her eyes wouldn't burn out of their sockets. Blind people can't sense light and don't know when to blink, so they have to wear eye protection.

Seth opened and closed the door, not leaving, and knocked on the inside. He knew it was cruel, but he enjoyed occasionally tricking the blind girl. The tricks were small, harmless, after all. Of course whenever she found out about his little games she'd either 1, come at him with a chain saw or 2, come at him with her weapon partner in Soul Resonance mode. That was just the kind of violent person she was.

She could see during Soul Resonance, by the way. She could 'borrow' her partner's eyes.

"You can come in, now!" Blind shouted. Seth opened and closed the door again. He was too lazy to walk in and out.

"Alright, the school is open," Seth began a bit awkwardly. "So get ready before anyone comes in."

It was Blind's personal goal to be first in class everyday for some unfathomable reason.

"Alright, now get out so I can change!" Blind responded, jumping out of bed and literally kicking him out of the dorm. He landed on his face.

. . .

"HEY! GIVE ME MY BOOKBAG!"

A short boy with violet hair and gooseberry green eyes with a star-shaped tatoo on his neck ran across the small, japanese-styled apartment. His name was Vespy Nakatsukatsa. He was fifteen years old and was chasing his little brother, Leslie, a boy with brown hair and lavender eyes with a star tatoo on his forehead, around the cramped living space. The small boy had stolen his bookbag.

"NO! IT HAS TOP-SECRET INFORMATION FROM THE KALNINIAN SPIES IN IT!"

"IT HAS MY HOMEWORK IN IT!"

Leslie like to pretend he was a secret agent and that the Shinigami family were spies from the opposing nation of The Republic of Kalningrad, what used to be known as 'Russia'. Of course, The Republic of Kalningrad and the United Territories had ended their war four years prior with the Mana Trading Treaty of 2032, 12-15.

The deal was, if the Republic of Kalningrad sent over the precious metals that allowed Mana Armor to be created to the United Territories, the United Territories would, in turn, send half of it's Mana Armor to the Republic's army along with a steady stream of Academy students to tackle their recent outbreak of Kishins.

"BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!" their father, BlackStar, called from another room. "AND LESLIE, GIVE YOUR BROTHER HIS BOOKBAG!"

"OK, Daddy!" Leslie called back, throwing the heavy bookbag at his older brother.

"Oof!" Vespy fell down, holding his bookbag to his chest. "Oh Gods! What'd you do that for?!"

"He told me to give it back." Leslie replied, wiping his bangs out of his face.

"THAT HAS, LIKE, FIVE TEXT BOOKS IN IT, YOU IDIOT!" Vespy yelled.

Leslie's eyes began filling with tears. They were fake, of course, but still. No one can resist a crying eight year old. "I-I'm sorry, Vespy. I... I... W-Waaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

"Oh Gods, please don't cry!" Vespy replied, beginning to panic. "It's my fault for putting them in there!"

"OK." Leslie said. "You always fall for that."

"I know..."

"Lets go." Leslie said, grabbing his own bookbag and dragging his older brother to the DWMA.