News from the Front
What kind of retard risks their life for a stranger?
It's a good question, really. But there are better questions, he realises these days - like, how many strangers have got to die before it's a big deal to you? When did murder become routine? And how can anybody talk about this stuff as if it just happens every day? Sure, it's true that people die every minute. But even one death can rend the centre from your very universe, sending you spiraling in the wrong direction for the rest of your life. Nobody's a statistic once you've seen what death does to people.
The men and women on the other side of death know exactly what goes on on the flip side of the coin. They do what they can, but saving lives is their day-job. The things that actually matter to them are just like any living man's problems - that cute girl from the fifth who gives you a little smile every morning as you pass her headquarters on the way to save human lives. Who's going to pick up the booze for tonight when the guys meet up after work, where they save human lives. Whether you can get your shift swapped with that seventeenth seated guy so that you can get a day off, from saving human lives. In a way they're even blinder to the truth of matters than the humans who can neither see nor touch their encroaching ghostly fates.
Who's listening? Who's ready for the battles to come? Who's going to save them all?
Charging headlong into fights he knows he cannot hope to win, he'll fight the decisions of gods with the tools of a mortal.