"Not many know the real story about Undertaker and Lila the years after both had died...Most of you trainee Reapers don't have time to sit and listen to the stories of your elders."

Outside the walls of the Reaper Academy, a fierce storm lambasted the area. The hour was late, and a dozen young Reapers in training had been unfortunate enough to have to stay behind at the Academy during the storm. At the arrival of their nameless elder and with an excuse to get out of paper work, they all fled their respective desks and flocked behind their black-haired elder into an empty conference room. At the head sat the elder, and the wide-eyed youths sat around the table, leaned forwards slightly with earnest interest in hearing the tale. The elder glanced lazily around to ensure he had all eyes on him, and when he felt he had enough attention, he leaned back in his chair, and tapped his fingers on his chin for a moment.

"...Well...I suppose this story begins with two seemingly unconnected things. A bell, a beautiful yet deadly object in this story, and a women, a beautiful yet dead women..."