Lysander's POV
*Flashback*
"Welcome to the RSA- the Revived Souls Academy. If you are a student here, you are in luck. Yes, it is true you once were dead. But now you are living. Why? The reason is because Death himself has found out that a few souls weren't reaping properly. He concluded that these specific souls- lingering souls, he called them- simply hadn't had enough of life and had even found ways to evade him. However, (somehow, you mean) Death gave pity on them. He refreshed them, and gave them new bodies. Your bodies." The headmaster smiled, her bright green hair shining in the artificial light. "Death gave pity on your souls, little Revivers. But do not get your case and reincarnation confused- you were simply, I say again, revived. Given a second chance."
The headmaster continues talking, blinking her dark, and yet somehow bright, blue eyes. I focus on her bubblegum-pink lip-gloss covered lips, but turn a deaf ear to her. It was getting tiring, hearing her speak this every time a new student came. Not that that was very often.
I sigh and stretch my fingers. Honestly, the talk can't even refer to me, I never technically lived. I was a product of a once-living artist.
My head throbs suddenly, signing that a headache is coming on. Thinking about my past usually does that.
I faintly hear the headmaster pause her speech, and then say something she never has before. "A few of you, maybe, are a little different, like the people who Death works with. People different in this manner of speaking are called misters, and weapons. There is a school on the other side of the country, called the DWMA, where these people attend. I'm afraid I won't be able to go into much detail, although..." she seems to look at each one of us in less than a second. "It's unknown if any of you are misters or weapons. It might not even be possible."