This chapter was a bitch to write, because of me and Chaos schedule so here it cahpter 5 please enjoy.

Also Author note from Chaos:

"To the guys who are impatient: don't be. We respect and reward the people who are patient and are kind and not at all forceful when they ask for story updates. If you are a dick and constantly whine for new chapters, we won't give you any chapters. Be patient, don't be a bitch, and you will get what you want. Otherwise, prepare to be disappointed." -Chaos

One quick major note I have gotten threatening PM's about the section of the story with Seras mother. No that was not originally in the original drafts it was both something we argued about for a bit but later came to an agreement on. We only had a bit of what Seras mother was like and leaned towards the father as a saintly one. The whole little thing in Seras mother flashback is by no means canon and we hope it is never canon. I know it sounded stupid and if it did we majorly apologize keep in mind most of it was more of showing how every coin has two sides.

Chapter 5- memories past

Italics used for Higher up talk

Merry laughter echoed through the bright halls of the Reaper Headquarters. Down in the main hall, the six Reapers sat around each other, laughing and trying not to spill their whiskey.

One tall Reaper at one end of the group wiped his eyes and leaned over his drink. "Hahaha, so this Player kid is shaking against the wall, waving his hand at the bat Noise like they were bees, and then the shark jumps up and swallows her like a grape! I couldn't tell if her brother was sad or terrified, but either way I swear to God he pissed himself on the spot!" The company burst out laughing even harder than before. The Reaper telling the story shot his whiskey down and refilled his glass.

"Hey, that's nothing!" another Reaper said, half-belching. "You should've seen what Anny did to a team on the fetch mission! Tell 'em Anny." He nudged the Reaper to his right with his elbow and she jumped up startled.

Annabelle looked at the company, looking half-dazed. "Huh?"

"Tell these guys the story! You know, with the buck Noise!"

She blinked questioningly. "Oh… uh…"

"Bah, don't bother her," another Reaper said, shooting down his third whiskey. "She's still out of it after Ol' Georgie ascended to the Higher Plane, lucky bastard."

The Reapers smiled collectively. "Good Ol' Georgie," the story-telling Reaper said fondly. "Best Composer out there, I'm telling ya. He always came up with the best games. Like, you guys remember the one where the Players had to climb up Big Ben and steal one of the numbers?"

"Haha, yeah, and the bat Noise would swoop down at them and tear out their hair?" They laughed again, remembering all the Players that fell off and had to start all over again.

"Yeah," the Reaper beside Annabelle said. "Ol' Georgie was a crazy mother-fucker wasn't he? Those Angels must be pretty nuts to let him up there."

Another female Reaper with dark red hair leaned forward and whispered. "Maybe they actually ARE crazy." She chuckled as the other Reapers considered this. "Eternity can do things to a guy. We've all been around for longer than the average life rate of humans, and look at us."

The storyteller smiled coyly at her. "Are you implying that we aren't mentally sound?"

"I don't know, ask the kid who wet himself that we were all just laughing at. He probably thinks you've got a couple screws loose."

"Plus," another Reaper said, "just look at Mr. Nayake." The Reapers became silent at the mention of their Producer. "Have you ever once seen him react to something? Even? Name one time." They all remained silent. Annabelle turned her head slightly, as if she was never listening until then.

"He's never happy, sad, angry, excited, nothing. I have not seen that guy's expression change once. It's like he's always disappointed by the world, like he gave up on it a century ago."

The Reapers heard a single, shallow laugh and turned to see Annabelle smiling. She's been one of their comrades for half a century, but even still her smile disturbed little parts of them.

"You've never seen him on a mission," she said humorously.

"Mr. Nayake doesn't go on missions," the red-haired Reaper said. "He's a Producer, they don't do missions."

"Nayake does," Annabelle contradicted. "The Composer paired us together on one, a long time ago." The other Reapers were silent, confused more than they had been in a long time. "And when you see Nayake on a mission, you see the man, not the Producer. He doesn't care about anything except completing whatever task the Composer gives him."

"Huh," the story telling Reaper grunted. "Wonder what happens to that guy when he comes back here."

"Well it makes sense, in a way," the Reaper beside Annabelle said. "What other Producer lives in the same place as the Composer? They're supposed to spend their time in the Real Ground, not slum it with the rest of us."

"And yet here he stays..." The group silently shut their eyes around the room, as if the Producer could be right in there listening to them.

One Reaper shivered. "Can we change the subject? That guy gives me the creeps, and I don't much care to talk about him so much." Annabelle smiled slyly.

"Alright," she said, "since no one else has brought it up yet, I suppose I will: why do you think the new Composer hasn't been announced yet?"

The storyteller paused above his drink. "Why do you care? It isn't our business Anny."

"Like hell it isn't," Annabelle said coldly. "The week is nearly over and we don't have any more reserve Games. They need to appoint one."

"Come on Annie, you know the way this works: when a Composer ascends then the Conductor below him takes his place. There are probably just some formalities that need to be filled out before the Butcher can become Composer."

"I don't know," the red haired Reaper said, "do we really want Butch as the Composer? Ol' Georgie was creative and fun. Butch is, well... Butch. I don't really see him making good Games."

"Maybe he'll make an arena tournament, gladiator style. Every Noise is a Black Noise." The storyteller chuckled to himself.

Annabelle shook her head. "No, it wouldn't take this long. There has to be a reason behind the delay. Like, I don't know..." Annabelle looked down into her own drink. "Maybe they found someone better." The group became silent once again. The storyteller leaned back.

"Like who?" he asked, suddenly serious. "You?" It was as if the air itself caught fire around them. Annabelle and the storyteller watched each other's eyes, not saying a word. The other Reapers forgot how to speak and just sipped at their whiskeys.

The tension broke at the sound of the opening door, and the tension returned when they saw Mr. Nayake poke his head through it.

"The new Composer has been decided." The six sat up straighter, Annabelle especially. They waited for their Producer to continue, but he just stood there looking down, as if deeply troubled.

"Well?" the red haired Reaper asked. "Who is it?"

Mr. Nayake looked back up at them, his brows furrowed. When he spoke, it wasn't in the monotone they were all used to: it was electric, laced with what could have either been excitement or rage. Based on what he said next, it was clearly rage.

"Seras Victoria. A little girl!" And with that he slammed the door shut.

"Seras, come to dinner sweety!" The little six year old girl looked up from her toys at her mother.

"Okay!" Seras picked herself up, wobbling a bit, and ran to the table that her mother set. Her father sat next to her, reading some official-looking papers that Seras couldn't make out.

"Daddy," she said, "what are you reading?" He looked up from the documents at his daughter and smiled.

"Oh, just some work things honey. It's incredibly boring." Seras frowned at him, unsatisfied. He raised his eyebrows and chuckled. "Not enough for ya huh? Alright then: these are reports the other officers made about some of the recent activity of a certain gang that's been causing a lot of trouble recently."

"Honey," Seras' mother interrupted him, carrying their dinner. "You know the rules, no bringing work to the dinner table."

He smiled playfully. "Of course dear." He slipped the papers under his plate.

Seras looked at the papers under her father's plate. "Why don't you just arrest them?"

"Well," he said, swallowing a mouthful of fish. "We don't have the evidence that we need to arrest them."

"But they're doing wrong things." Seras ignored her fish and looked up at her father. He looked rather disturbed for reasons that she didn't understand yet.

"Yes sweetie, yes they are. But the way the law works is that in order for bad people to go to jail, we need evidence to prove that they did those bad things. Like their fingerprints." He pinched at Seras' finger tip, and she giggled. "Or their hair!" He rustled her hair with his hand and she laughed harder, shaking her head away from her fathers giant hand. Her mother just smiled and at her dinner: she'd tried to stop them before, but she couldn't keep her husband or daughter from playing at the table. They just weren't allowed to leave until they were finished.

Some time passed and Seras was nearly finished eating, when out of the corner of her eye she saw a figure out the window. It was a man, with brown hair and broad shoulders. His eyes were the same shade of blue as Seras' eyes, and they were staring right at her with a look that she couldn't quite identify. He looked sad in a way, but the expression was too hard and cold to be sadness.

"Daddy, someone's standing out the window."

"What?" Her father spun around to the window. The man was gone now. He got up and pulled open a drawer, picking up a pistol. "Wait here," he said, and walked out the door.

A few minutes passed and Seras' father came back in. "No one was there." Her mother sighed with relief. "Seras, are you sure you saw someone?"

Seras shrunk a bit. She didn't like being questioned. "Yes."

"What did he look like?"

"He had short brown hair, blue eyes, and was tall with big shoulders." He nodded and rubbed her back.

"That's my girl. If you see him again, tell me or your mother straight away, alright?" Seras nodded, but she didn't think the man would show up again, whoever he was. And he didn't appear again for the rest of the day.

It was the dark of night, and Seras slept soundly in her bed, but she was not alone in her room. At the end of the bed, standing imposingly above her, was Reece Nayake.

Why this girl, he thought. This little girl who doesn't even know the word Composer yet. Why was she chosen? Reece sighed. It wasn't his place to question the Higher Ups. They gave the orders, and he obeyed them.

Seras' small form began to stir. Her eyes shot open, as if she felt Reece's presence. She slowly arched her back up to see him standing there across from her. She was completely silent, and her eyes were wide in what was likely terror.

"Seras Victoria," Reece said evenly, his voice echoing in the dark room. Seras didn't respond. Reece knelt down to the floor, bowing his head. "I've come to serve you, Composer Victoria!" Reece waited there, kneeling, for quite a while. Seras slowly sat up in her bed, slid out of the covers, and cautioned toward Reece. She extended a hand, very slowly, and brushed it against Reece's cheek. He flinched slightly and Seras jumped with a squeak. The two looked into each others eyes, their identical blue eyes. No, not identical: Seras could see the age in his eyes, the lifetimes of his past.

Seras opened her lips a bit before speaking. "You are real." Reece was surprised to find himself taken aback by this. He expected some sort of fear or hesitance from this girl, but she just walked up to him and touched his face as if he were a docile puppy. He was even more surprised to find himself flash a smile at the thought.

"Yes," he said. "I am very real."

Seras turned her head a bit. "What's your name?"

"Mr. Nayake."

Seras chuckled. "That's a silly name." Reece raised an eyebrow. What was with this girl? So calm, so present. No six year old is like this.

"Mr. Niky," Seras said. Reece flashed a smile again at the girl's infantile lisp. He never thought about how difficult his name actually was. "What's a Composer? And why am I one?"

And observant too! Reece thought with astonishment. This girl could easily be more advanced than anyone else in her class. Hell, anyone else in her age group. Reece stood up and looked down at the inquisitive girl.

"Well, a Composer is someone who makes things. You, Seras Victoria, are a very specific Composer though. You only need to make one thing."

"What's that?" Reece opened his hand to her, remembering that he's supposed to smile around young children. It had been so long since he interacted with one that it slipped his mind before then.

"I can show you, if you'll let me." Seras looked at the large hand for a moment, then at her closed bedroom door.

"You'll be back before morning," Reece said, reading her mind. "Your mommy and daddy won't notice that you left."

Seras looked back up at him. "Mommy? Don't you mean mummy?" Reece stopped and looked forward into space. Mummy? he thought. Seras laughed and took his hand.

"So where are we going?" He looked back down at Seras, smiling like it was nobody's business. As if they were just going on a midday walk through the park and they were going to get ice cream later.

Reece couldn't help but offer her a sly half-smile. "You'll see." He snapped his fingers, the room shook three times, and they were gone.

In a second they reappeared in front of a tower in the middle of London. In the distance Big Ben was visible, reading 3:00 in the morning. Seras looked around, awestruck by what just happened. She gurgled a few question-like sounds, but was ultimately speechless.

Reece chuckled and pulled lightly on her hand. "Come on, there are some people you should meet." He started walking and Seras nearly tripped, not hearing him. She followed close to him, but continued to look around. She had never been in the big city part of London before, but she had seen it on television back at home when her parents watched the news. But those shows truly did not do justice to the sheer enormity of the city. Seras felt like a flea among the comparatively huge buildings.

She was led into the tower they appeared in front of, and turned to go up the stairs. Seras looked back and saw an elevator on the nearby wall.

"Why are we taking the stairs?" she asked.

"Because where we're going can only be reached through the stairs."

"That's a dumb way to make it. What if someone who can't walk needs to go up there?"

Reece laughed silently. Leave it to children to ask "what if" instead of "how."

"Don't worry, no one who ever goes where we're going can't walk." He turned back to her. "They don't need to walk." Seras frowned, confused, but she didn't ask anything else for another four floors.

After a while she spoke up again. "How did we get here?" Reece was silent for a moment, as if he didn't hear her. "I think there's a word for it. Tele... not telephone, tele..."

"Teleport?" Reece offered amusedly.

"Yeah! Telepore, that's it." Reece couldn't help but chuckle a bit. Just then he felt a quick, small pressure hit his thigh. He froze and turned back to see Seras scowling up at him with a balled fist. His face twisted, as if completely phased.

"Don't laugh at me!" Seras said, folding her arms. Reece stared at her, this little girl who just hit him, the Producer of all of London. She stared back up at him defiantly, unknowing of the power he possessed. No, not unknowing. Uncaring.

Taking a moment to think, Reece bowed deeply to Seras. "My apologies, Composer Victoria." Seras smiled and grabbed his hand.

"It's okay. Let's keep going!" She tugged on Reece's hand and they continued up the stairs, now almost side by side. Reece involuntarily glanced at Seras every so often, thinking to himself. What a remarkable girl.

Several floors passed, and Seras was quickly becoming tired. She panted heavily, and Reece could feel her hand shaking in his. But not once did she ask to stop, or for him to carry her.

"Are you okay?" Reece asked. "Do you need a rest?"

She looked up at him. "How close are we?"

"Three more floors."

Seras looked straight up the path of the stairs. "I'm okay. We can keep going."

Two floors passed, and Seras' feet were beginning to drag. Her eyes began to wonder, trying to think past the exhaustion, and she noticed that the stairs were passing a strange-looking metal door.

"Roof Access" it read. Seras turned the other way, and she saw Reece starting up another set of stairs. She followed close behind, and at the top of the last staircase stood a blank purple door, void of any design or marking save its perfectly spherical door knob. Reece placed a key in the door, although Seras didn't see him reach into his pocket or hear the jingle of a key ring, and the door swung open into a brightly lit hallway.

"Composer Victoria," Reece said, extending his hand into the hallway. "Welcome to your palace."

For a few moments Seras didn't move, but stood frozen in the doorway. The hall wasn't anything special: it had doors going into other rooms, it separated into other hallways, and it had some pictures and other decorations hanging on the walls. But something about it felt off to Seras, like it was alien to her. Alien, but at the same time welcoming in a way. The air itself was unfamiliar, but it knew her. Just like Reece, in a way.

"Most adults are normally put off by this place too," Reece said. "Even I was my first time, oh so long ago." He smirked a bit at the old memory to himself. Seras looked up at him, uncertain as to what she should do. Part of her wanted to go running out of the building, back home to her parents. But another part of her wanted to go in the door, it wanted nothing more than to breathe this strange air and learn its secrets. And ultimately, that part of her yelled the loudest. She picked her head up, took in a deep breathe, and strode past the door. Reece followed, shutting the door behind her.

For what Seras thought were hours, her head became incredibly fuzzy. The walls passed by her as if they were running the opposite way she walked, although she couldn't feel her feet and was therefore unsure if she even could walk.

Then, as quickly as it became blurry, Seras was suddenly thrown back into the clear world. She wasn't sure where she was, because it certainly wasn't the bright hallway she had been in, or even the building she and Reece had climbed. Seras found herself standing in a dark, empty room. Well, empty save for a large seat at the other end of the room. There were no lights anywhere, no windows, but Seras could still see the details of the room, or the lack thereof.

A voice called out from behind her, quiet but also very loud. "This is your throne room. This is where you shall spend your time while you remain here, and also..." Seras spun around while the voice spoke, but she saw no one behind her. She looked around the room, fear growing in the pit of her stomach, until she saw Reece standing beside the throne at the other wall. His hand was laid upon the back of the throne. "This is where you shall create your Games."

Seras stood frozen in that spot, more stunned by the events of the night than she thought was possible.

"My..." she hesitated, considering Reece's words. "Games?"

"Yes," Reece responded, beckoning Seras toward him. She obeyed and approached the throne that was hers. I have a throne, Seras thought. I'm like... the queen.

"I told you that as the Composer you would have to create a very special thing. That is the Reaper Game."

Seras shrunk a bit at the full name. "What's a Reaper Game? It sounds bad." She could feel her heart begin to sink as the full picture began to tease its way open. Fear began to return to Seras as she considered just what the picture might become when opened all the way.

"No Composer," Reece insisted, gently placing his hand on Seras' shoulder. "The Reaper Games are not bad. For many people, these Games are the most important Games of all time. People come from all over London to play this game, and to win it is more important to them than anything else in the whole world." Seras nodded, feeling the responsibility weigh on her shoulders.

"All you have to do," Reece continued, now kneeling to look into Seras' eyes. "Is make the rules and the goals. You say what each game is, and how it's meant to be played. You can make whatever game you want, anything you can think of!" Seras' eyes lit up a bit at this.

"Anything?" she asked, almost sounding excited.

"Anything at all! And it's my job as your Producer to make sure that the Players and the Reapers play by the rules you make."

Seras bent her brows. "Reapers?" A picture of a skeleton in a black cloak with a scythe on a flaming horse skeleton suddenly came to her mind, and Seras began to be afraid again.

"Oh, that's right! I almost forgot to introduce you." Reece stood up and snapped his fingers at the opposite wall. Just then a door opened that Seras hadn't seen before, and six people walked in, four men and two girls. When Seras looked at them she noticed their strange thin, black wings almost hovering behind each person.

"Seras, these are your Reapers. Think of them like obstacles you can place in your games. They live to serve you and assist in all of your games."

Seras looked at them, then stepped down from her throne and walked up to them. She came up to a bony man with thinly cropped blonde hair. He was wearing noticeably old clothes, like the kind Seras saw in some of her King Arthur picture books. The man glanced at her face and looked away exasperatedly, almost spitting his unsatisfied sigh. Seras stared at him for a while, so long that the other Reapers started staring at him and Seras. The bony man began to fidget where he stood, becoming more and more uncomfortable. He crossed his arms, uncrossed them, stuck his hands in his pockets, took them back out, and then crossed his arms again in a span of forty-five seconds.

The sound of Seras' voice nearly made the Reapers jump after the long silence.

"Hi, I'm Seras." She stuck out her hand to the man and smiled cheerfully. "What's your name?"

The Reaper stared at Seras for a moment, then hesitantly took her hand. "Richard," he stated.

Seras shook Richard's hand, and he was surprised at just how strong her grip was. And even more than that, he was surprised to feel a sort of power radiate from her palm: not power like the Reapers had, or even like they sometimes felt from their last Composer. This was... warmer. "It's nice to meet you Richard."

"Uhh," the Reaper mumbled, largely confused by the little girl. Then he felt a smile cross his face, and his voice became much more friendly. "Likewise." The two smiled at each other for a minute, and then Seras walked over a few steps and stood in front of the next Reaper. It was the story telling Reaper, standing tall above Seras. His long brown hair flowed casually over his shoulders, and a few strands over his wings. He was wearing a long blue trench coat, and his breath smelled of alcohol. The smell reminded Seras of one of her father's officer friends, and she smiled especially wide when she offered her hand to him.

"Hi, I'm Seras," she said happily. "What's your name?"

The Reaper didn't react quite so much as Richard had before him, and was smiling and shaking her hand in an instant. "It's Malcolm, but my friends call me Oni."

"Can I call you Oni?"

"Of course," he responded with a wide smile. "And may I say it is a pleasure to meet you, Composer Seras." Reece scowled at Oni from the other side of the room. The Reapers didn't notice.

"It's nice to meet you too, Oni." Seras moved on and said hello to the rest of the Reapers: Megan, with her fiery red hair and fair figure, who was very cheerful with Seras; Rocky, an ironically skinny man with tight clothing and clashing combat boots; and Bobby, a little man with a quiver in his voice who didn't talk a lot. Seras gave him an especially friendly smile and handshake.

Finally at the end of the line stood a tall, lean woman. Her black hair reached down to the small of her back, and her eyes seemed to glow more than anything else in the room with a light green. Her skin was very pale, almost pure white, save her bright red lips.

Seras looked up at the woman with an equally friendly smile and extended her hand. "Hi, I'm Seras. What's your name?" The woman looked down upon the little girl smiling at her, and paused. For the tiniest of a second the other Reapers saw her eyes glaze over in a strange way, but they couldn't imagine why.

The red on her face bent up into a smile and the Reaper took Seras' hand. "My name is Annabelle. It's very nice to meet you Seras." Annabelle bent over a little to put her head closer to Seras' level, and her body seemed to radiate friendliness. They shook each other's hands and Seras turned back to Reece and the throne. The Reapers watched her in a mix of astonishment and happiness.

Seras stood by Reece and looked up at him. He extended a hand to the throne beside him, Seras' throne, but she shook her head in one tiny, almost unnoticeable movement.

"I want to know how to make Games."

Reece smiled, very pleased. "In do time, Composer. But perhaps now I should take you home." A miniscule frown crossed Seras' face, but it was gone before she let it affect her.

"Okay," she acquiesced, and she took Reece's hand. "And Mr. Niky, my name is Seras."

Reece looked down at Seras with one last look of surprise. It then turned into a gentle smile and he raised his empty hand.

"Alright then. My name is Reece."

Seras smiled back at him. "It's nice to meet you Reece." He snapped his fingers, and they were gone.

Light suddenly poured into Seras' open eyes. She moved a little, and found that she was lying in her bed. The sun was coming up outside her window and illuminating her little room. She could hear her parents up outside the door, and could smell sausage.

She sat up and looked around, confused. It couldn't have been a dream, it felt so real. But Reece wasn't in the room with her. Loneliness began to creep upon Seras, and tears began to threaten her eyes. Then something stabbed at her thigh and she jumped a little. Curious, her hand reached into her pocket and pulled out a metal object and a slip of paper.

Seras unfolded the paper, and a key fell out. It was the key Reece used to open the purple door! Seras smiled joyously; so it hadn't been a dream. She looked at the paper.

"Only come at night, and don't let your parents find the key." She read the note over and over again, memorizing it, and then hid it and the key under her mattress. Then she went out and had breakfast with her parents, never once alluding to the adventure she'd had the previous night.

It was late Sunday night, or early Monday morning, and Seras was sitting in the main room of the Reaper HQ, playing a game of cards with Oni, Megan, and Richard. She looked over the top of her cards, eyeing each of the Reapers beside her. They all exchanged secretive glances.

"Meg," Oni said dramatically. "Do you... have any threes?" He made an exaggerated question face and Seras giggled in her seat.

Megan locked eyes with Oni, and slowly reached for one of her cards. She tugged at one, then said "Go fish!" She and Seras laughed heartily, and Oni shook his head and pulled a card from the deck.

"Ha!" he exclaimed when he drew the card. "A three!" He plopped down the cards triumphantly and took a swig of the beer at his side.

"Alright," Seras said, scanning her cards. She studied the faces of the Reapers before her. "Richard. Do you have any kings?"

Richard sighed and put down a king of spades. "Dang Seras, how do you keep getting these?" Seras giggled and put down the cards.

They continued playing for a while, then Seras spoke. "Oni, who are we playing against?" The Reapers stopped and looked at each other.

"What do you mean Seras?" he asked.

"In the Reaper Game. You guys keep talking about Players and Noise and stuff. Who are the Players? Who decides who becomes a Player?"

Oni paused, thinking. He put his cards down on the table and took a drink. "Well, I suppose you're gonna figure it out eventually."

"Oni..." Megan whispered, signaling him to stop.

"No Meg, she's the Composer, I think it's only fair that she knows." Megan looked from him to Seras, but didn't object any further. Richard watched silently.

"Well Seras, no one really 'decides' who becomes a Player, not even the Players. It just sort of happens, whether they want to play or not."

"You mean they're forced to play?"

"Yes, but they can 'opt out' if they choose. Although that's not... recommended." Oni seemed to be struggling with what he was telling Seras. He took another drink and continued, looking down into the depths of the bottle. "You see Seras, there's a reason we're called Reapers. The Players, are... they're kids who died." He looked up at Seras to see if she could take that piece of news. Seras looked down for a while, thinking. She did a lot of thinking now, at the Reaper HQ.

Oni continued. "That's why they're playing the Game to begin with: they died too early. And if they win, they can come back to life."

"Or become a Reaper," someone interjected. The four turned to see Reece leaning against the door. "They can either return to the land of the living, or spend eternity in the Under Ground. The choice is entirely up to them."

The group became very quiet. The Reapers either looked at Seras, who was thinking, or at their own feet. Reece just waited against the door patiently for his Composer to say something.

Seras looked up at the Reapers in front of her. "So you all won the Game?" They nodded slowly, unsure what Seras was thinking. "What about your mummies and daddies? Why wouldn't you go back to them? They must have been very sad."

The Reapers looked at each other with melancholy eyes. Richard spoke first.

"My parents were already gone. I lived in the streets with the rats and the lepers. I didn't have much to go back to, did I?" Seras stared at him with some confusion. Richard gave her a humorless smile. "You'll understand better when you're older."

"My dad was a drunk," Megan said. She silently raised her wine glass to the sky in sarcastic salute. "Mom was already out of the picture. Not dead, just gone. Went to Germany, I think, right before the war. Poor woman probably didn't last long, but that's what happens." She shrugged. Seras listened intently, and took a moment to process the implications. She turned to Oni, who had been silent since the topic came up.

He looked away from Seras and tapped mindlessly on his bottle. "We all die eventually, I didn't see why I should bother coming back just to die again. I thought eternity sounded more interesting." He nervously chugged down the rest of his beer and got up to get another from the bar.

Seras looked down in heavy contemplation. Then she turned to Reece. "What about you?"

Reece met Seras' eyes and gave a little frown. "That was so long ago, I don't even remember. Every Player has their reasons, and you can't really question them too much since we don't fully understand their reasoning." He paused. "Well, we don't. But you can." Seras was severely confused by all the information her young brain was taking in, and it showed. Reece opened the door and signaled to her. "Come on. It's about time you learned exactly what you're going to be doing, Composer." Seras got up and followed Reece out the door. She could feel the Reaper's worried eyes following her, and she gave a little wave to them.

They walked into Seras' throne room. Between her first visit to the HQ and now Seras had figured out how the halls in this place worked: you couldn't walk through them normally because it was set up like a labyrinth; she had to know where, or to whom, she was going before she started walking.

Reece waved Seras to her throne. She didn't like the seat very much; it didn't make her feel like a queen, it was just uncomfortably big. The room wasn't very nice either, being so dark and empty. Seras much preferred to be in one of the other rooms with Oni or Richard or Annabelle, any of the Reapers really. Even Bobby and his weird obsession with dogs was preferable to this dark, dank room.

Reece leaned over the throne next to Seras. "Okay, just knock on the left arm four times." Seras obeyed and knocked on the wooden arm. Suddenly a light flashed and a collection of figures flew at Seras. Buildings, words, so many things.

"Reece!" she yelled frightened.

"Don't worry," he said soothingly. "They're not real. Just calm your mind, tell the visions to stop."

Seras nodded and breathed in deeply, as her mother would tell her to do whenever she cried. Just breathe with your entire chest and the pain would go away. After five breathes the figures stopped flying and floated stationary in the air.

"Alright, very good," Reece chimed. "Now, what you're seeing is the building blocks of the Reaper Game. You see a list of names?"

"Yes," Seras replied.

"Focus on it." Seras pinpointed the names and they expanded in her vision. Pictures of kids also appeared next to each name.

"Players..."

"Yes," Reece confirmed. He waited to see if Seras would react in some way to them, but he saw nothing. "These are the Players that will be in this week's Game. Now, think of of London. Picture it in your mind, but don't close your eyes."

"Okay." She began to imagine Big Ben, then Buckingham Palace and the London Bridge. The city then began to expand from those points in front of her, in the little blue lines she saw. The entire city laid itself out before her, baring it's every secret crack and corner to her. The city was much smaller than she had thought it was: she was surprised any criminal could hide in such a small place, let alone the gang her father was after. Perhaps she could find them for him with this map...

"Seras, do you have it?"

"Yes," Seras said.

"Very good. This map and the list of Players are the base of developing a Game. Be sure you know them."

"Okay."

"Now, all that's left for you to do is come up with the missions and the rules. One mission per day." Reece looked intently on Seras, watching her. What would she do now?

"Okay," Seras said simply, and then fell into silence. An hour passed by, then another hour, then another, and still Seras sat in that throne staring into her personal vision with Reece watching her.

"I'm done."

Reece flinched with a start. "Done? So soon?"

"Yes. One mission a day, right?"

"Well yes," Reece stammered, "but it's your first game, and it normally takes much longer the first time."

"I need to go home," Seras stated bluntly. "What do I do with this?"

"Just knock on the arm again." Seras knocked and the vision disappeared. She got up and quickly walked to the door outside, slipping in her key, and then was gone. Reece watched where she'd gone in such haste, perplexed. He took out a cell phone, one that hadn't been invented yet, and pressed a couple of buttons before settling on an image. He read a few lines and then sighed.

"This is why little girls don't work as Composers." He put the cell back in his pocket and walked out of the room.

The next night when Seras returned to the Reaper HQ, Reece was waiting for her.

"Evening Seras," he said, holding his phone between his crossed arms. Seras wouldn't look him in the eye when she closed the door.

"Hi Reece..." she mumbled trying to speed past him. Before she could cross him his hand stretched out before her.

"Don't you want to know how the first day of your first game went?" he asked. Seras looked down at her toes.

"I know how it went," she said, then tried to get past Reece again to no avail.

"Indeed you do," Reece said, sternness entering his tone. He looked at the screen of his phone and read from it. "No Player erasals, no time limit, no Noise battles. Their mission: pick a white flower." He looked down at her, and she turned her head away. "Now we both know that this isn't the best you could come up with. This isn't even a real Game! Do you know how disappointed the Reapers were when they got their reports saying that they weren't allowed to interact with the Game? Do you know how disappointed they are in you?"

Seras fidgeted in her place, looking in every direction except at Reece. He sighed and knelt down. "Seras, what were you thinking? You made an entire week that's impossible to lose."

Their eyes finally met, and Reece was astounded to see defiance in Seras' eyes rather than guilt. "Exactly." Reece was taken aback: his mind went into a whirl. Suddenly Seras stamped her feet and yelled at the Producer.

"They're kids! Some of them are no older than me! And you want them to go fighting monsters, running all over the city into who-knows-what? Wait no, I know what! I know exactly what they're up against, and I know they don't deserve it! I was watching their short, short lives while you thought I was making this cruel Game. Most of them have friends and family, good ones! And only one of the Players gets to go back to his family, his life, while the others just stay dead and their mummies and daddies get to cry over them? That's not fair! Why can't we just have one week where no kids have to die, huh? Why not?!" And with that Seras pushed past Reece and ran down the hall into the labyrinth of the HQ. Reece knelt there, stunned frozen by Seras' words.

After a while Reece regained his senses and went to find Seras. He found her sitting against a wall in the labyrinth, on the verge of tears. When she saw him she pulled her knees up and hid her face from him.

For a minute Reece stood there, watching Seras. He sat down against the wall next to her, and gathered his thoughts. He spoke very gently to her.

"Seras, you can't have an easy Reaper Game. That's not the way it works." She pulled her head further down into her knees and covered her ears with her elbows. "Look," he said, "do you think I like how many children die in a week? Nobody does Seras."

A muffled sound came from Seras' legs. "Then why do you let them?"

Reece was silent for a moment. "You know Seras, you're not the first Composer to try this. Many years ago, too many for my old mind to count, another Composer tried to do the same thing. He made the easiest games you could think of, games that make picking flowers seem laborious. Do you know what happened?"

Seras peeked out of her ball. "What?"

"He was fired. He could never be Composer again. But that's not the important part. The important part is that none of the Players came back to life. They all died."

Seras gasped. "Why?"

"They didn't earn their life."

"Well why should someone have to earn their life? Isn't it supposed to be a gift?"

To Seras' surprise, Reece began to chuckle. "That depends on who you ask. Do you think Richard thought his life was a gift when he was suffering in the trenches all those centuries ago?"

"No..."

"And yet he fought in his Reaper Game, and he won. Why do you think that is?" Seras was silent. "Because in the Reaper Game, you don't fight for the right to survive. You fight for the right to LIVE, to truly live. And do you want to know something Seras?" She looked at Reece intently. "To live takes a fight. Every day people with beating and silent hearts are fighting for the right to live, fully and completely. That's what the Reaper Game represents. If the Game is too easy, then what's the point of the prize? If you don't put effort into it, you can't truly live. You simply survive, and survival is joyless."

Seras was silent, but Reece could tell that she was thinking on his words. He picked himself up and looked down the hallway. "You probably don't understand a lot of what I just said, but you will one day. In the meantime, I'll leave you to decide on what you do next." And with that Reece walked away, leaving Seras sitting in the hallway.

Later that night Reece went looking for Seras again. He found her in the throne room, staring blankly into something. She didn't notice him, so he smoothly showed himself back out with a grin. He checked his phone and was satisfied.

That week a boy named Gerald Larson won the Reaper Game. He was twelve years old, and decided to return to his life. The day he came back he hugged his mother so tightly that she got bruises. And all the while, the Composer of London watched him and smiled. Now he could live.

Four Reaper Games passed, each one with increasing success. On the second Game Seras took up a new style of Game: Team Games. Each Player was partnered with another, and suddenly not only were twice as many Players winning, but real friendships began to sprout from the Games.

The Reapers were also pleased with the new games, giving them more things to do. Seras offered them more freedom than Ol' Georgie had before her, and they soaked up as much of it as they could. They still weren't permitted to directly attack Players, but they could command their own personal Noise to do their bidding, something they were surprised no one had thought of before. Now Oni didn't have to constantly get up to get his drinks, his Tamed Noise did it for him.

It was the middle of the week, and Seras sat upon her throne. She found herself doing this more and more now, to watch the Games without being interrupted by daily life. She was beginning to discover that she could see other things too; the things that the Real Ground did outside of the Reaper Games. She could see everything within the city if she concentrated, and there were many interesting things for her to see. She could even watch her father working. He spent less and less time at home now because of his undercover work, but Seras was content being able to keep an eye on him. Her mother was considerably more worried all the time though, and it made Seras sad knowing that she couldn't offer the same comfort to her mother that she had.

Seras raised her glass of juice up to her lips, but nothing flowed into her mouth. She looked into it: empty. She frowned and began to get up to get more, when Bobby walked in. His wolf Noise was panting beside him.

"Ah, Bobby!" Seras cried. Bobby stopped and cringed a little. He seemed uncomfortable. Then again, he was always that way around everyone. "Could you get me some more juice please?"

Bobby hesitated, but after a while he mumbled that he would. Seras thanked him and he walked out. Only then did she begin to wonder why he came to her in the first place. She pushed the thought aside and picked up her Rainbow Dash plushie.

Bobby shuffled quickly to the bar of the HQ and opened the mini fridge. There was no juice in it.

"Looking for this?" He turned to see Annabelle holding up a carton of juice. Bobby nodded quickly and took it from her. He poured out the juice and shuffled back to Seras' throne room. Behind him Annabelle gave a little smile and rejoined the other Reapers at the table.

"Thank you Bobby," Seras said when he returned with the juice. The Reaper mumbled a bit and hurried back out of the room. She took a sip of the drink while watching a group of runaways spray-painting a wall. She didn't notice until she had already swallowed the liquid, but Seras realized that what she was drinking was not juice.

Deeper in the Reaper HQ, down in places that the Reapers couldn't get to, Reece sat in his study working diligently on something new. He was still missing a few critical pieces to complete his project, but he didn't even really know what it was those pieces were. That's the problem with doing this job, Reece thought. No one teaches you how to do this stuff. I have to figure out new ways to do something if I want to make anything useful.

Suddenly Reece felt something crack in his head: it was a pain, not a horrible pain, but it was intrusive. He felt as though his mind was being split in two.

"Seras!" Reece took off running, forgetting the incomplete collection of materials on his desk. Fear suddenly overtook him, a fear that he hadn't felt for nearly a millennia. He burst into the throne room and ran to Seras' body. She was thrashing violently on the ground and a foam poured out of her mouth. Her eyes looked dead.

Reece instantly went into action: he placed his hand on Seras and held her down, focusing his power. Soon she began to stop thrashing, and then became deathly still. Reece pulled out his phone with one hand, making sure to keep his other hand firmly on Seras to keep her still. He pressed a button and spoke into it.

"Malcolm, come to the throne room immediately. Don't tell the others where you're going."

"Why?" Oni's voice buzzed out of the phone. "What happened?"

"Just get up here now!" Reece yelled, a quiver in his voice. He hung up and put his hand back onto Seras. In seconds Oni was coming through the doors. A gasp escaped his lips and he froze when he saw Seras lying stiff on the ground with Reece kneeling beside her.

Reece yelled to him when he heard the door close. "Come over here, quickly!" Oni obeyed and ran to his side.

"What happened?" he asked, hesitating over Seras' body. Oni knew she was still alive, he could hear her heartbeat faintly, but it was slowing at an alarming pace.

"I don't know," Reece said. "Quickly, get this foam out of her mouth befor she suffocates." Oni nodded and stooped down to Seras, spooning the foam from her with his hand.

"Okay," Oni said, wiping the saliva on his coat. "What now?"

He turned to Reece, but what he saw was not the Producer he knew. Tears were welling up in Reece's eyes and he was trembling badly. He spoke with a quickly degenerating quiver.

"I... I don't know," he muttered. "I can't save her, I don't know what caused this. I DON'T KNOW!" He cowered over Seras, on the verge of weeping. He kept whispering something over and over again.

"I failed I failed I failed. I failed I failed I failed..." Oni watched him and Seras with great sadness. He felt as though he could cry too. His hand brushed a few strands of hair from Seras' face. Then he heard Reece say something else.

"The Higher Ups are going to be so disappointed..."

*SMACK!*

Reece feel on his back, and put his hand to his throbbing cheek. Oni was standing over him, between Reece and Seras. Fury burned in his expression and littered his shouts.

"You're worried about what your bosses are going to think?" he yelled at the Producer. "A sweet, innocent little girl that looked up to us, looked up to YOU, is dying and you're worried about being scolded by the Higher Ups?! What the fuck is your problem?!"

There was a burst of energy, and Reece stood in front of Oni. The two stared angrily into each other. Reece's power far surpassed Oni's, and he knew this, but still he stared enraged at the Producer.

Then Reece heard something banging against the floor, and he looked past Oni to see Seras thrashing again. At that moment Seras was no longer Seras: she was another little girl, with waving brunette hair in a little white dress. Reece saw two tiny hands holding the girl through a veil of water, and the cries of a boy somewhere in the distance. He then saw the little brunette girl smile, and her bloody hand came up and stroked Reece's cheek, until the hand fell and the girl's eyes glazed over.

Suddenly Reece was back in the throne room, and he saw Seras again. He could feel the Reaper breathing into his face, but he pushed past him and to Seras. Gently he picked her up, and she stopped thrashing. With a snap of his fingers a hole opened up in the wall behind the throne, and he walked to it.

"We'll discuss the consequences of your treachery later," Reece said, and he stepped through the hole. It closed behind him.

Oni watched him go with Seras, unsure what to think. The Producer had just spaced out in front of him, and then took Seras to who-knows-where. He frowned, but then noticed the orange cup that was spilled over on the side of Seras' throne. Oni picked it off the ground and took a sniff.

He froze in wide-eyed discovery. Poison, he realized. Someone did this to her.

Reece was surrounded by a thick white fog, in the middle of nowhere. He looked around, confused. This wasn't where he was trying to go.

"Reece Nayake," voices boomed from the sky. "You are aware that humans are not permitted to enter our ground, even if they are a composer. What is your purpose?"

So they stopped me, Reece realized. Of course they did.

"Seras is dying," Reece cried to the invisible watchers. "And I don't have the power to save her! Please, you must help her!"

"You are the girl's protector," the voices answered. "It is your responsibility to keep her alive, not ours. She is not our concern."

Reece grit his teeth. "Please, I am begging you. She is a good Composer, you yourselves chose her! Surely you must have had some reason to do so, you wouldn't simply turn your backs on her so easily!"

"Silence producer!" The fog around Reece shook from the voices. "The composer is your charge, that is the way it has always been! Do not come to us with your failures! If this girl is too weak to protect herself from attack, than she clearly is not truly worthy to guide the dead!"

A new rage rose within Reece. His grip tightened on the limp Seras, and his body burned with power. "Do not speak as if this pain was caused by Seras! She wanted none of this! Now you WILL save her, or I swear by YOUR gods that you will regret not doing so!"

"Impudent boy!" The sky burst open with energy, and seven winged forms of power descended to Reece. They circled him, and horrible pressure beat down on his back, sending Reece to his knees. "You dare threaten us as if we were some lowly humans? You have no power without our blessing, and yet here you stand crying up to us like a babe over a lost toy!"

Reece cringed under the enormous weight of the being's power. He looked down at Seras in his arms. She was stirring now, but with great pain. It was like she could feel the powers around her bearing down upon her little heart, condemning her. Reece grit his teeth and forced his own power upwards. Two great white wings slowly rose from his back, and with a cry of pain Reece covered Seras from the power raining upon her with them.

The beings around them turned their heads simultaneously at this.

"Why do you expend your energy on this little girl? You do not know her, and she is already on the verge of death. What is the point?" Reece did not look up at them. He couldn't move his body now, under the pressure.

Then Reece felt the power lessen itself from his back. The weight left, and Reece could move once again. In his arms Seras was calm once again.

"Very well," the powers said. "We shall heal your composer." Reece looked up at them, speechless. Suddenly Seras disappeared from his arms, and floated up into the air in the center of the powers. "But at a price."

"What..." Reece started, suddenly made aware of a great uneasiness in his stomach. "Wait, what kind of price?" Before the beings could answer, Reece saw something growing behind Seras. Two wings, small angel wings, sprouted from her back. The right wing was a pure white, "Not only will your girl be healed, but we shall grant her two extra gifts. The first comes in the form of the white Valkyrie wing, which shall bring her victory in battle like the winged warriors of old. The second comes in the form of the black Angel wing, which shall protect her from the unholy monsters of the world. But in return, she must bear the judgement of all souls going to Heaven or Hell, whether they be adult or child. So we have decreed it, so it shall be forever hereafter.""because you believe her to be so worthy to guide the dead, for the time she is immortal she must not only compose the souls of children in your Reaper Game, but must also judge the souls of every adult after death in all of London at the end of each week".Reece felt himself be blown off his feet, and he and Seras cascaded away from the seven winged powers. Then all was black.

Reece regained his senses before long. He was back in the throne room, on his knees with Seras in his arms. Oni was looking down at them, worry wrinkling his young face.

They heard a little sigh and Reece looked down. Seras' eyes opened slowly, and she yawned and looked up at him.

"Reece?" she mumbled sleepily. "What happened?" Reece looked down at her, almost shocked to see her moving. Then he started to laugh joyously, like he was the happiest man in the world. And during that one second of eternity, he was. He hugged Seras close to his laughing, weeping face.

"Nothing you should worry about, Seras! I'm just happy you're alright!" Seras squirmed in his choking embrace.

"Reece, you're hurting me!" He apologized and let her go. Reece calmed himself and the two smiled at one another.

Then Seras turned around. Her Rainbow Dash doll was lying on the ground by her throne, soaked in her juice. She reached for it, but Oni grabbed her arm gently and shook his head.

"I don't think you want that anymore."

Seras looked from Oni to the doll then back to Oni in confusion. "Why not?"

"Just trust me," Oni said, offering a consoling smile. "It's not good for you."

"Reece, what is it?" Seras sat on her throne, and Reece stood before her. His eyes were cast to the side, away from her. The Producer had been standing there in front of her for minutes now and hadn't said a word. It was Sunday night, and the winner of that week's Reaper Game had already been resurrected. Midnight was nearing.

Reece hesitated. "Seras... I need to tell you something."

"Okay," Seras responded, unphased.

Reece looked down, collecting his words. "There's another job I'm afraid you have to do."

"Oh? What's that?" Reece took a deep breathe. Here it goes...

"You have to judge the dead souls of adults in London, tonight. I'm not sure when, but they'll come to you soon." Reece looked up at Seras. She was silent, looking straight through him.

"Why now?" she asked suddenly after a minute of quiet. "Why haven't I been doing this from the start?"

Reece looked back down. Seras didn't remember anything of when they were between here and the Higher Plane, or what They had said. She didn't even remember being poisoned, or who had given her the juice. If Reece told her about the Higher Ups, he'd have to tell her what happens. But he couldn't take making her upset, not yet. She'd already been through enough. In the future he'd have to, but for now it was in Seras' best interest to not be worried by the knowledge.

"The Higher Ups only recently decided to give Composers the extra duty," Reece said, not technically lying. Just then Reece heard four sharp knocks, and he looked up at Seras to see her staring off.

"They're already here," Seras said. Her eyes scanned space invisible to Reece. "There aren't a lot of old people..." Reece stepped back in astonishment. Already? he thought.

Suddenly Reece was faced with the prospect of not knowing what to do. There Seras was, doing something no other human in all of existence had ever done, and he had no way of helping her.

"Hehehe," Seras giggled suddenly. "I like him. He's nice."Uh, Seras!" Reece said quickly. "Don't be too rash with your judgements on people. I mean, this is their afterlife after all, you should be careful where you put them..."

"I know Reece." Seras said. She smiled, looking down at him through her vision. "It's my job. I can do it."

"Well, but Seras, there are things that adults do that you probably don't fully understand yet. I mean..."

"Reece," Seras cut him off. "Why are you standing down there? You should be up here with me. This could take a while and I don't want to be lonely." Reece started, rendered speechless. Then he closed his eyes and smiled acceptingly. If there's any child who can take the sins of humanity, it's her. Reece thought. I suppose I'll just have to trust in her judgement.

He walked up to the throne and placed his hand on its back. "Of course Seras. I won't leave any time soon."

"Thank you." Seras smiled, and the two were there in silence until the break of dawn. Seras saw many lives in that single night, and she judged many souls. She saw the tragedies and joys of every man and woman who had passed away that week. She witnessed murders, suicides, family dramas, and many of the other sins of the world. And though Seras cried more often than not, and even though at times she could feel the hopelessness of the dead souls, she realized something that many of those souls didn't in their many years of life: not a single life, not one in all of London at least, was without joy. Seras discovered good moments and people where the souls had found only depression. And she wondered why those adults were so blind, so unwilling to fight for their lives. The children of the Reaper Games could do it, they did so daily. But why didn't these adults?

At the very end of it all, when Seras had judged the last soul, she posed these questions to Reece. He looked down sadly at the little girl, who knew so much and understood so much, yet was still ignorant of more still.

"Well Seras, some people just aren't strong enough to fight. They try for much of their lives, but after a while if someone takes just too much, they have to break. Everyone has their breaking point, I'm afraid..." He was silent for a moment. "Even children can be broken. And when someone is broken, it could take years or even lifetimes to fix themselves. Some never do."

The two stayed quiet for a while, contemplating these things. Seras couldn't help but be reminded of the Reapers, Richard and Megan and everyone. She wondered if maybe they had been broken, or if they were stronger than the other souls who wouldn't become Reapers. But if they didn't return to the Real Ground, could they really be stronger than those who do? Seras' brain hurt from all the thinking children weren't even supposed to comprehend.

"So," Reece said, putting on a more cheerful face. "Do you think you put all the souls in the right places?"

"Yes, I sent them where they deserved." Seras smiled a little, then yawned. Her time in the HQ may be able to ward off her exhaustion, but not forever.

Reece chuckled. "I think you should go home. Get some rest."

"Okay," Seras yawned. She waddled sleepily to the door and pulled out her key. "Good night Reece."

"Good night Seras."

"And thank you." Reece paused. Thank you for what? Seras opened the door and disappeared. Reece stood in the dark throne room, wondering. She must have meant for staying by her while she judged souls. Of course, that was it

Seras slipped her key into the door of her bedroom and opened it into the Reaper HQ. Standing in front of her were all six Reapers and Reece, holding up a big pink cake with seven candles on it.

"Happy Birthday Seras!" they cried, and the biggest smile exploded onto Seras' face. She ran in and slammed her door shut, laughing jubilantly.

That night was by far the single greatest night Seras spent at the Reaper HQ: for the first time since her first night as a Composer, all the Reapers as well as Reece were in the same room together with Seras, no missions, no distractions. Just the whole group having a big party, all for Seras.

The cake was magnificent: it was filled in the center with a gooey strawberry jelly, and the vanilla breading was generously smothered with pink frosting and coated in little candies. Reece said that he had made it personally, and Seras gave him a giant hug. She would repeat the action once again once she opened her presents.

Two in particular stood out: the first was a new My Little Pony doll, from Megan and Reece.

"I bought the actual doll," Megan said, smiling as Seras bounced up and down in excitement over the Fluttershy plushie. "But wait until Reece tells you what he added." Seras looked over at Reece, still bouncing with pleasure.

He smiled and nodded at the toy. "Scratch below her chin." Seras did as he said, and then jumped back in sheer amazement: before her very eyes the doll neighed and came to life, growing three times its original size and flying around the room.

"It's alive?!" Seras cried out.

"And you can ride it too," Reece added. The animate doll landed by Seras, and no power in the UG could stop her from scrambling on top of its back and taking off. She flew around the room on Fluttershy's back, laughing with great joy. She hugged the doll's neck and Fluttershy's stitching formed into a warm smile. The two landed only when Reece said that there was still a gift for Seras to open.

"Why wouldn't you save the best for last?" Seras asked, still hugging the doll.

"Oh believe me, I did." Reece handed Seras a tiny box, barely bigger than her hand. She looked down at the little present, sure that it couldn't be nearly as great as her personal Fluttershy.

Seras tore the wrapping paper off and pulled open the lid. Inside was a little pendant: it was a solid metal disk, and welded onto it were two curving wings, one white and one black. They folded into a little circle on the golden disk, and it shined with an unearthly light.

"It's pretty..." Seras admired the trinket. She touched it ever so gently, as if it would fall apart if she wasn't careful.

"Put it on," Reece said. Seras slowly pulled the silver chain out from the box, and held the pendant before her. She lowered it onto her neck, still moving cautiously like it was made of the thinnest glass. Once it touched her skin, Seras suddenly felt a wave of power pass over her. It was sizzling, but also warm and smooth. This was the kind of power Seras believed a fairy godmother's magic would feel like, but multiplied exponentially.

"Wow..." Seras looked down at the little pendant, eyes wide in wonder.

"That necklace is filled with the power of a Composer," Reece said, feeling satisfied with her reaction. "Tap it four times and you'll be instantly connected to the Reaper Games control system. But that's not the best part." Seras looked up at him, as if to say "it gets better?"

Reece turned and pointed at a glass on the counter at the other end of the room. "Imagine that glass on the table in front of you. Really concentrate." Seras barely even had to try. She looked at the glass, and with the slightest picturing it vanished and reappeared on the table in front of her. She jumped and knocked over her Fluttershy, who whinnied in distress.

The Reapers around her chuckled, and she scowled up at them. Suddenly they were blown back by an invisible force into the walls. They hit the walls with one unisal thud, but most of them weren't hurt. They were however incredibly surprised.

A wide grin bridged Reece's face. "You'll have to learn to control that, but I promise it will come in handy should you ever need it. And don't worry, the power only works for you. Just be sure not to lose it."

Seras looked up at Reece and smiled gleefully. "I won't! Thank you Reece!" She jumped up and tackled him, actually knocking the wind out of the Producer. He laughed and bore down on her, pushing Seras to the ground, and the two started wrestling. The Reapers around them laughed, and Oni, Megan, Richard, and Annabelle joined in.

It was the best birthday Seras had ever, or would ever, have.

It was dark, and cramped, and Seras could feel a cobweb against her hair. But Seras didn't care. Not now.

"Listen to your mum; stay in the closet. Please, don't come out no matter what." Seras' mother closed her eyes and backed out of the closet. She steeled herself for what was to come next. Her heart ached for her daughter, weeping against the wall. Perhaps she could go on. Maybe she would be lucky.

"Mummy!" Seras cried, tears flooding down her cheeks. Her body felt clammy and shaky. She didn't understand what was going on. Why was she being hid in the closet? What was so wrong? "Mummy!"

The door shut, and Seras was left in weeping silence. For a moment, everything seemed to stop. No sound came from outside the doors, and Seras waited in horrible anticipation of something she didn't know. She grasped her shirt, but there was no pendant. She had left it in her room, with her key hidden away from her parents.

*Bang* Seras jumped a little from the sound of a gunshot outside. *Bang bang bang bang bang!* She quivered as she heard laughter echoing from the room beyond the closet door. If she just stayed inside and stayed quiet, she'd be fine. She doesn't know anything's wrong, it could be nothing. But that laughter...

Seras inched the door open, just enough to peer through it. She could hear a dull, constant thudding from outside.

"Oy, piggy piggy, whazza matter?" Two unfamiliar men were standing outside. One had his back turned to Seras, and he was kicking something. What was it?... "Hahahaha! Come on mate, squeal like a pig why don't ya?"

The other man, a grey-haired man spoke to the other. "Shoulda just had him squeal before ya shot." The walls were spattered with streaks of blood, and the air stank of iron. Seras looked down, focusing on the object that the man was kicking. She choked; there her father lay, with four holes in him and bleeding profusely. His eyes were blank and staring in different directions, and his mouth hung open dumbly.

"Ah, this one's special. He's so fucking good at it! The squealing like a pig what earned him this. He stuck that badge and that snout-of-his where it didn't belong." The man gave one last big kick, and then stepped away. He stamped his foot on something else, something Seras hadn't noticed: her mother, lying bloody on the floor with two holes going through her.

"You were just for fun!" the man taunted, pointing his gun in the dead woman's face.

Seras could feel every synapse in her brain go off and snap into little pieces, and her heart shriveled up and crawled into a corner of her stomach. The closet door swung open, slowly, and Seras felt her feet carrying her forward.

Mummy, she thought blankly. Her entire body felt like lead. All that she could feel was her feet moving forward. Daddy? A deep, throbbing feeling started to rise in her. It rose from her feet into her stomach, and then it pushed her heart out of its corner and filled it with rage. It overflowed with the emotion, it burned horrifically.

Her feet picked up, they picked up speed. Seras dropped her hand to the ground and grabbed the first thing they touched: a silver fork. She charged forward, blind with rage. Actually no, Seras was far from blind: suddenly she could see very clearly. She could see the blood around her, she saw with extreme clarity the corpses of her parents. But most of all, she saw the men who killed them in cold blood. Seras had seen so many men murder and maim on her throne, but never had she been so close to it. Suddenly she could feel the sheer emotion all those other souls must have felt before her, in their final moments or long before then.

Seras jumped in a single decisive movement, and she heard the grizzly squish of the fork gouging into first man's eye. He reared back with a painful scream, leaking blood and white fluid.

The other man pulled up his gun. "Big mistake!" One sharp bang and something exploded in Seras gut. She flew across the room into the wall, landing back on the floor with a dull thud and a little splash.

"My eye!" the man shrieked, pulling the fork out. It sounded like pulling a cork out of a wine bottle, but wetter. "That filthy little cunt!"

"You can bitch later. We have to get outta here."

"It hurts goddamnit!" The man looked at Seras' mother with his last eye. "Gimme a sec, you aren't the one with a fork in ya! Let me toss one in the wifey first." He bent down over her body, sweating now. His eye socket stung horribly, but he only needed the one eye to see his new prize.

"Fuck you on? She's dead," the second man said in protest, although he didn't sound at all surprised.

"Still warm, in'nit?" He tore off the mother's shirt, and her breasts flopped to the sides. "I've fucked worse."

Seras laid on the floor in silence, barely breathing. Her midsection cried in anguish, but still her heart pumped on. Her ears rang from the sound of the gunshot, and black spots danced in her vision. And yet what happened next was all too clear to her.

*Squish squish squish* Seras slowly looked up, her body barely able to maintain the strength. But still she saw what was before her. Even still, despite her weakness and her pain, she could see the atrocity.

The man grunted with each passing thrust, and the floor creaked beneath his movements. *Squish squish squish* He was smiling, that kind of smile that one does not see on the face of average civilization. He bore the face of the underground, the pleasure of Hell. *Squish squish squish* The body was limp like a puppet under him. Her dead breasts bounced up and down with the rhythm of her murderer's gyrations. *Squish squish squish* Those dead eyes just kept looking up, in an eternal state of terror. The live eye dilated in sick pleasure at the sight of his control, his power. He'd won, and he would enjoy his prize for as long as his stamina would last. And then maybe he would go again afterwards. *Squish squish squish*

*Crunch*

The second man and Seras watched as the man's head fell within itself. The entire head, skull, brains, flesh, and all were pushed down into his neck by a strong, vein encrusted hand. The flesh was pushed down further and further, while his vertebrae slid out of his back and folded on the hardwood floor. With a swift kick the man flew across the room, his spine flopping through the air next to his bare dick, and he landed on the ground next to his buddy.

There above the mother's body stood Reece, his bloody hands flexing and pulsating. His teeth were bared and Seras could hear them grinding against each other. His breathing seemed to make his entire body grow with each inhalation, and his eyes grew more and more bloodshot with each second.

"The fuck?!" The other man pulled up his gun, but it snapped apart in his hand. Reece appeared before the man, looking down on him. The man felt like a child before this awesome power. And like a child, he fell before Reece after a swift swipe of his hand, and the man's head rolled across the floor.

Reece turned back to the bloody tragedy behind him. There lay Seras, his Composer and charge, and her parents in bloody pools. Seras was watching Reece with tears spilling down her face.

He walked over to her sadly, and bent down to her. He picked her up in his arms, and looked down at the poor girl. Then she buried her face in his jacket and started wailing uncontrollably. All the emotion, all the rage, suddenly just dispersed from both Reece and Seras at that moment, and they just waited there, Seras crying and Reece holding her tiny body in his arms.

After a while they had to leave. Neither Reece nor Seras cared to stay in that place of death. And yet where do they go but just another place of death

Seras didn't leave the Reaper HQ all that week. She never so much as left the throne room. Reece stayed with her night and day, always just behind the throne. Whenever Seras would start to cry he would hold her, and his embrace was the only thing that would calm her down. She didn't play any games with the Reapers, they didn't even come in her room. What was there to say, really?

"Reece," Seras said from her throne. Her voice was steady, yet very much empty. "The Games ended."

"Yeah," Reece responded.

"Nina and Gulliver won," Seras continued, as if she didn't hear him. "I liked them."

"I liked them too."

"Maybe one day I'll meet them," Seras said. "I'll get to congratulate them on coming back to life. Then I'll introduce them to the other winners, and we'll all go out for lunch, and... and..." Seras drifted into silence.

Reece frowned. He felt like he knew what Seras was going through, how she felt. But she was a strong girl, he convinced himself, she would survive. Seras won't break, not her.

"You could meet them whenever you like, Seras." They remained silent for a while. It was during times like this that Reece realized how empty and dark the throne room really was. He wasn't sure why it was designed like this. Or why Seras never just changed it.

"Reece," Seras said, breaking the silence again. "What were your parents like?" Reece looked up at Seras. Her face was unreadable.

"I don't know," he admitted. "It's been so long, I don't really remember my parents."

"Will... will I forget my parents too?" Seras began to quiver. Reece opened his mouth, but no words would obey him. How could he answer a question like that?

"They're here," Seras said before he could think of an answer. Reece recoiled; he felt useless all of a sudden. It was like Seras was just out of his reach now. He felt like he couldn't help her anymore. Wait, Reece thought anxiously. This week's souls! Oh God no, don't be that cruel...

A little choke sounded from above Reece, and he already knew it was over. He looked up Seras' teary face, totally impotent.

"Mummy," she whimpered. "Daddy..." Seras clenched her fists tightly on the throne, and the wood creaked under her grip. She closed her weeping eyes as tightly as she could, but the tighter she closed them the more tears escaped. She was barely holding in her whimpers as despair rode up and down her little body, raining spears upon her shriveled heart.

"Seras..." Reece said mourningly. She looked down at him. "It's okay. It'll only take a couple minutes, then it'll be over. I'm right here." Seras nodded and turned back to her vision.

Daddy... She picked her father's name, and the images began. They started from his earliest memories as a toddler, as nothing from his infantile years would be important for the judging process. Seras braced herself for the worst, but as she watched her father grew up, a little smile began to light her face. He was a fine, strong man in his youth. He acted boldly, standing up to the bullies that were in his school. If they picked on some kid younger than them, he would stand between them and fight off the bullies. But never once did he fight for himself. Seras was filled with a warming pride as she witnessed her father joining the force and fighting crime. She never realized just how much good he did in his life. She watched as he lifted her baby form up in his arms at the hospital, her mother smiling under a sheet of sweat from the bed. He whispered to her, and Seras nearly broke down at his words.

"Hey there, baby girl," the memory of her father said. "I'm your poppa. I won't ever let you go, got that? So don't you try and lose me, 'cause I'll just keep coming back for you."

Seras wiped her tearful eyes and silently sped through the rest of his life. She'd seen enough.

"Heaven." The image slowly vanished, and Seras felt her father's soul ascend into Heaven. His picture smiled at her, and then was gone. She sniffed, and wiped her face with her hand. Beside her Reece smiled, glad that she could have some closure with her parents.

Seras selected the next person down the list: her mother.

The vision began to play, and Seras watched her mother play as a toddler with other kids with a much more humorous point of view. Watching these memories, it almost felt to Seras like her parents weren't even gone: that they were still right by her side. It was comforting, seeing her parents live out the lives she hadn't known they had.

But then again, children aren't meant to know their parents lives. Because then the illusion breaks.

"Miss Victoria, what is the meaning of this?!"

Seras froze, rendered slack-jawed. Little children were crying on the ground, bruises beginning to develop. Above them, the child version of her mother stood up against the teacher that had torn her away from them. She didn't speak a word, but Seras could see in her head, feel her feelings: her mother was indignant towards the other kids, vengeful against the teacher. Seras couldn't even find her mother's reason for hitting the other kids.

The vision sped forward, and suddenly she was a teenager. It was pitch black where she was, but the sounds echoed inside the small room. Seras heard a strange moaning; it wasn't painful, or sad. It was... happy.

*Squish squish squish*

Seras tensed. That sound... that awful sound was coming from within the room. She could hear her mother calling out to someone, but Seras couldn't see his face. It was only the sound of her mother's moanings, and that awful noise.

The vision sped up again, and Seras saw her mother in a white gown and veil. She and Seras' father were standing at an altar, with a crowd of people behind them. Seras' tension eased a bit. Their wedding day. She remembered this from her father's memory, it was a nice day. They had a lot of fun, laughing as they smashed cake in each other's faces. Seras could feel the happiness emanating from her mother. She was radiant in her dress, and her father looked stunningly handsome beside her. The two looked like they were made for each other.

*Squish squish squish*

Seras seized up as the scene suddenly changed, and that horrific noise started again. She was in a hotel room, in the dark. But it wasn't as dark as before; now she could see what was making the noise. And Seras didn't want to.

It looked vile, like an atrocity against nature. Seras felt her stomach flop within her, but she couldn't look away no matter how hard she wanted to. There on the bed was her mother, panting and sweating. There was a man on top of her, and they were both naked, flopping against each other. Her mother let out a gasp of exultation, and the man rolled off her.

He was not Seras' father.

Seras couldn't take it anymore. She panicked and beat on the throne's arm, and the vision disappeared. Seras curled up into a ball and held in her cries.

Reece was shocked at the sudden change in her expression. "Seras, what is it? What did you see?"

Seras looked up at him. Reece realized that she had looked at him with tears in her eyes far too much recently.

"Mummy..." she sputtered. "Mummy was bad! But... but she shouldn't go to Hell. She's my mummy! She... she..." Seras began to wail, and stuffed her head back into her knees.

Reece hugged her balled-up body, stroking her back.

"Seras." he whispered. She looked over her knees at him, shaking a little less. "You have to do what your judgement says is right. I'll stand by you no matter what."

Seras slowly put her legs down. Reece wiped the tears from her face, smiling comfortingly. Seras nodded, then knocked on the throne's arm. She looked at the picture of her mother, smiling at her. Within that picture lay her soul, entrusted to her daughter's hands.

Seras steadied herself, but still she stuttered just a little.

"H... He..."

"The child composer has completed another set of Judgements."

"This set had her own parents, and even still she judged them correctly and without bias. Most impressive."

"For a human."

Perhaps the rain was clichéd, but Reece felt it was appropriate for the day. The sky was hidden behind thick grey clouds, and heavy rain pellets riddled the earth and its darkly dressed inhabitants at the graveyard.

Seras and Reece walked alone through the grounds, Reece carrying a black umbrella. They were surrounded by the headstones of people they didn't know. Nobody else would know who Seras' parents were, Seras thought. Just like these other headstones that she saw: these names meant nothing to her, and her parent's names would mean nothing to others. Perhaps that was a good thing.

"There they are," Reece said. A distance away, there was a gathering around two graves. Her parent's burial. Seras tugged at Reece's sleeve. He smiled sadly and shook his head.

"They don't know I came with you. You've been gone for over a week, remember? They'd think I kidnapped you. Don't worry, I'll be right here when you want to leave. Do you have your key?" Seras felt her pocket and nodded. "Good. Don't lose it, no matter what."

"I know."

"Good girl." He squeezed her shoulder. "Now go on." Reece offered her the umbrella, but Seras walked off without taking it. The rain flattened her hair and streamed down her face.

Someone Seras didn't recognize was saying something she couldn't hear over her parent's graves. But what he was saying didn't matter, because he became silent at the sight of her. The crowd became confused and uneasy, turning to see what had silenced him. Suddenly a deeper hush fell over the crowd as Seras walked slowly towards them.

"Seras?" someone said. "Seras! It's you!" A man in a police uniform pushed through the crowd and reached for her. Seras raised her hand and the officer stopped, not of his own will, but of Seras'. The group of black clothes divided as Seras made her way through, and everyone in attendance were as silent as the graves around them.

Seras reached into her coat and extracted two white daisies. She knelt before her father's grave, dropping a flower into the hole on his coffin. She wanted him to have it, not his headstone. Seras smiled a little at the wooden box, and mouthed a few words of goodbye to her father inside it.

Then she moved over to her mother's grave. Somehow the hole looked ever so deeper than the one Seras' father inhabited. She knelt before this one too, dropping the flower down onto her coffin like before. She mouthed a few words, but did not smile.

Before long the graves were filled and the attendants left. Seras did not leave with Reece, but with the cop that had tried to reach her before. He worked with Seras' father, he told her, and that he had been helping with the search for Seras. She apologized for being gone, but wouldn't say where she was during the time.

Reece did not follow her, nor did he stay in the graveyard. He returned to the Reaper UG, with a growing sadness deep within his heart.

His phone beeped, and on it was a message that Reece didn't have to read. He already knew what was going to be on it. Back in his room, among a hundred unfinished projects, Reece silently wept. He wept for Seras, his Composer, his charge. And his love.

"Do not interfere with the Composer's Real Ground life."

Rhythm began to beat from Seras' hands, swishing from side to side. She could hear music begin to pour from her mind. Her smile grew, and Seras closed her eyes and let herself be absorbed in the music.

A voice, her voice, began to sing from some distant place. "The first Alice was a wrathful woman of the spade. And righteously she held a sharpened blade within her hand. Never hesitating to slay all within her way. Creating paths of blood that followed her through Wonderland."

There was a knocking from behind her, and suddenly it all ended. The music stopped, and Seras fell back into silence. The beds put themselves back, and her pendant dimmed back into a cool metal. Seras strolled lazily to her bed and threw herself on it, absent-mindedly opening the window shades.

There was a sharp series of clicks and the door swung open.

"Isn't it 'un-Christian' to barge into someone's room without permission?" Seras said flatly from her bed. She didn't bother looking up at whoever came in. It really didn't matter to her.

"Isn't it also un-Christian to beat someone with a rock?"

"I've never claimed to be a Christian." Seras remarked.

"Neither have I. Shall we call it a draw then?" A woman walked into Seras' vision. She was not a nun, as evidenced by her lack of black and white drapes that were used as clothing. Seras recognized her as one of her teachers, one of the volunteers for the orphanage. She had long, wavy brown hair that extended past her shoulders. She wore a simple button-up collared shirt and trousers, with loopy gold earrings that could blind someone if they reflected light at the right angle. She also had an American accent, which made it sometimes hard for the children to understand her.

"Hello Donna." Seras said. The teacher frowned at her.

"It's Mrs. Cordliph." she corrected.

"Uh-huh." Seras looked up with disinterest at her teacher. Mrs. Cordliph met her gaze, trying to wait her out.

"So what do you want?" Seras asked before long. Donna raised an eyebrow.

"Why? Do you have something that I would want?"

"I don't know, you want a Fluttershy? It won't fly for you, but it's still cuddly."

Donna smirked, but Seras didn't act like it was meant to be amusing. She just kept looking up at the bottom of the bunk above her. The teacher sat down on the opposite bed, brushing off her pant legs habitually.

"No, you can keep your doll. I was just walking down the hall and I heard you singing." Seras turned at this, her eyes growing a little wider. "There aren't a lot of children that sing when they're supposed to be being punished. And such a... peculiar song as well. Where did you learn it?"

Seras looked down for a moment, as if considering whether or not to even tell Donna. "I just made it up."

"Do you read much Lewis Carroll?"

"Hm?" Seras looked at her questioningly.

"Lewis Carroll," Donna said. "He wrote Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. That is what your song was about, right?"

Seras took a second to think about this. Just then she remembered that one of her first books was actually Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Back then it seemed like a big book. Now Seras could read through it twice in a day if she chose. "Yes," she said. "I used to read that a lot." She giggled a little at the memory. "The Cheshire Cat was my favorite character besides Alice: he was the only one who ever tried to help her. But she didn't always get what he said."

Donna smiled back at Seras. "Yeah, the things he said were sometimes as cryptic as Wonderland itself. Say," she said, coming up with something. "Do you remember the riddle that the Mad Hatter made up for Alice?"

Seras thought for a while, trying to remember. "What's the difference between a raven and a writing desk?"

"Close. It's 'why is a raven like a writing desk.' Do you know the answer?" Seras shook her head. "Very few people come up with answers, and even less have good ones. This is the answer I like the most though: a raven eats worms, and a desk is worm-eaten." Seras sat up now, considering the answer.

"I like that too." she said.

"Yeah," Donna grinned. "I like that answer because it acts as a sort of microcosm for Wonderland." Seras stared at her blankly. "Oh, sorry, you don't know that word. It's like... do you know what a metaphor is? No? Hmm... You know globes, right? Well, globes are microcosms of the Earth: small things that represent bigger things. And just like a globe, this answer to the riddle is a 'microcosm' to Wonderland, because in Wonderland the entire world runs on an eat-or-be-eaten society. It's survival of the fittest, everyone's out for them and their own. Seras..." She leaned forward and touched Seras' hand. "The orphanage is NOT Wonderland. Here, it's not you eat everyone or they'll eat you. Here, if you eat someone, then you will be eaten." She gripped Seras' hand. "Do you understand?"

Seras looked down at the teacher's hand on her own. Her face suddenly became stoney again, and her eyes narrowed.

"Uh-huh."

Donna frowned, but released Seras' hand and stood up. She stopped on her way out the door.

"I won't tell the nuns or the Headmaster about your little song. Right now they would probably just use it as an excuse to kick you out." She shut the door, and there was no sound of the door being locked. Seras glared at the spot Donna had been.

At least she'll admit that they want me gone.

Night had fallen, and all the children snored soundly in their bunks. All, that is, except Seras under her covers.

She peeked out, listening to the various snores and other sounds of sleep. Seras could hear all of them individually, despite how loud some of them were, she knew what sounds there were when they were all asleep. And at that moment, they were all out like lights.

Seras cautiously slipped her blanket off and let her feet inch to the ground. She reached under her pillow and grabbed her key, then tip-toed to the door. She pushed the key into the doorknob and turned it gently, until eventually the door gave way.

The Reaper HQ's entrance stood out garishly compared to the hallway of the orphanage, with its bright lights and yellowish-white paint. Seras had to close the door behind her quickly to make sure that she didn't wake any of the kids up behind her and get busted.

But really, Seras would've gone through quickly even if there were no sleeping kids behind her. She wanted to go back.

The first place she always went to was the bar. And tonight, just like any other night, there was Oni chugging down a new bottle of whatever. He looked thoroughly drunk, which was quite the spectacle considering his tolerance level.

"H-hic-hey Sorry! Whazzup? Want a drink?" Oni stumbled a bit, raising his bottle. Seras giggled.

"No thanks. Still seven."

"Maaaaan," Oni sighed, plopping the bottle back on the bar. "I'm... four hundred and seventy two, maybe, and never once have I had a year longer than the time it's gonna take for you to be 'of age.'" He made air quotes when he said this.

"That's because it's going to take longer than a year, Oni." Seras said, laughing. Oni looked at his hand and started counting fingers, with a drunken look of deep thought.

"Oh yeah. You're right, you're right." He took another swig from the bottle, and didn't put it down until he realized that he was drinking air. "Oh sh-hic-it, when'd that happen?" He tossed the bottle across the room, smashing it against the wall. Seras didn't cringe at the sound; that's what Oni did with empty bottles. An arm extended from him and snatched another bottle from behind the counter, handing it to Oni, then disappeared. He uncorked the bottle and started chugging.

"So," Seras said, tapping her foot against the floor. "Where's everyone else?"

Oni spun his head back, as if he had forgotten Seras was there. "Welp, Mags and I-heard are out somewhere, probably banging." He giggled to himself. Seras didn't know what that meant yet, although she wouldn't have wanted to. "Rocky and Bobby are probably doing boring stuff, knowing them. And Anny is... um... is..."

"Over here, you drunken idiot." Seras and Oni turned to see Annabelle walking through the door. "And I don't think Megan and Richard would much appreciate you spreading rumors about them. And you're only eighty six, I don't know where you got four hundred and seventy two."

Oni burped with discontent. "Bah, why you gotta ruin my fun Anny? And how do you know how old I am, hunh?"

"We have files, idiot, and they're public files."

"Hey," Seras said loudly. The two turned to her. "Stop calling Oni an idiot." She pointed to him. "Apologize."

Annabelle blinked, and malcontent flashed across her face. She turned to Oni and bowed sarcastically. "I'm sorry."

Seras looked at her, unconvinced, but Oni waved it off. "Bah, I know you don't mean -hic- nothin'. Care for a drink?"

"I'll pass," she said, scrutinizing him like she wasn't used to this. "I'm just looking for something."

"Something like what?"

"You'd know if you found it, even in your drunken state."

"H-hic-hey, I'm not American." Seras and Oni laughed as Annabelle planted her head in her palm and sighed.

"You're useless. I'll find it myself." She turned around and left the room, although Seras thought she saw her eyes flash towards her as she walked. She shrugged it off.

"More of a stick in the mud now than that girl used to be," Oni said, taking another swig. "Granted she-hic-she was never that fun. Always had a weird sense of humor, and that's me talking! But she was alright, up 'till recently. A lot looser before, that's for sure."

"I swear to God Oni, I'll hang you by your intestines!" Annabelle screamed through the walls.

"Aren't you supposed to be looking for something?" he yelled back. He waved his hand and took another drink. "But anyway, we had fun. Good games, good drinks, good jokes, good nights."

"You two didn't actually... you know..." Seras was beginning to turn green. She tried not to think about it, but it kept penetrating her thoughts.

"Hmm? Oh no, I was just having fun with her! Nah, Reapers can't do that. We aren't alive, how could we get a good blood flow down there?" Seras let out a little sigh of relief.

Time passed in relative silence. Seras made a few observations of the day's Reaper Game, and Oni went through another bottle.

"Oni?" Seras said suddenly. His eyes shot open. He had nearly passed out. "Why do you drink so much?"

"Because Sery, even after I die there are parts of me that keep trooping on. Memories that I don't want. And this magical elixir lets me get rid of those pesky memories." He took another stiff drink. "See? There goes my eleventh birthday. Shitty cake, no presents, my pop was still out... bugger, not quite gone yet." He took another drink.

"How did you die?"

Oni looked over at the girl. "Why you asking these questions all of a sudden?"

She looked down and shrugged. "I just want to know."

"Well," he said, leaning against the bar. "I got killed by a 'spirit.'"

Confusion wrinkled Seras' face. "A spirit?"

"Yep. Most deadly spirit in the world!" He reached out and waved his bottle in the air, making ghost noises. "What can I say, it's a cruel mistress."

"But... even as a kid?"

"Especially as a kid!" Oni said, jumping up. "You ever heard the phrase 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger?' Well, that's the maxim I lived on! And pretty soon, you find out that everything makes you stronger. Grow up in a shack? Made me stronger. Dad beat mum to death and get sent to jail? That made me stronger too. Live with my strict-arse grandpappy? I was getting beefed up! Drink, smoke, and chew my way through the world? Girl, I was so strong that I could take on the whole British empire! But, turns out what makes you stronger also puts you in the ground at the age of thirteen. Woops." He shrugged. "Shit happens I guess. I snuck a peek at my funeral when I became a Reaper. It was a touching ceremony: my grandpa dug a hole, threw me in it, and walked away. It was truly heartfelt.

"Anyway, I guess when I died I realized that I didn't want to go back. But I also wasn't ready to die. I mean, what had I done with my life, really? I cried and drank and smoked, didn't go to school, didn't contribute to any society, except maybe the drug dealer society, and then I just dropped dead. No, I wanted to do something! I wanted to make some kind of difference. So, I fought my way through the Reaper Games and made something of my afterlife! And the great thing is, I didn't have to give up the drinking!" He chugged down the rest of the bottle and threw it across the room. Then he let out a deep yawn.

"I'm gonna go take a nap," Oni said, patting Seras on the shoulder. "Help yourself to the bar."

Seras passed on the offer

"Hey Reece." Reece spun around from his work bench. Seras didn't come to his room very often.

"Hey Seras." He smiled and hugged her. She hugged him back tightly.

"What are you working on?" She walked over to his desk and examined the various bits of machinery.

"I don't know," he said. "I figured that I'd think of something to use it for while I was making it. Until then let's call it a 'doohickey.'" Seras giggled, repeating the jibberish. Reece stood by her and examined the pieces that would eventually become something. Silence shrouded the room as the two looked over the desk, each thinking out their own puzzles.

"Reece, have you ever eaten someone?"

He jumped back. "What?!"

"One of my teachers talked about it to me. She said that the orphanage wasn't an "eat or be eaten" place. But I never ate anybody." Reece thought for a moment until he understood what Seras was talking about. He sighed.

"What did you do Seras?" Seras looked down, tapping her foot on the ground and waving her hips.

"Nothing..."

"Don't lie to me Seras," Reece said sternly. She cringed under his disapproval.

"I hit a boy with a rock..." she mumbled.

"Why?" Reece was staring intently as Seras now.

"He took my toy, and when I tried to get it back he knocked me down and spit in my hair! And then he grabbed my skirt, and he started ripping it!" Sobs were beginning to spurt from Seras as she spoke. "And he didn't even get in trouble! All I did was hit him with a rock! I could've killed him if I chose to!"

"Don't you say that," Reece said, kneeling down and looking intently at her. "Don't you ever even think of killing someone over something so small!"

"Small?" Seras objected. "But..."

"Were you in danger?"

"... No."

"Did you enact justice?"

"... Yeah. The rock hit him pretty hard."

"Then why would you choose to kill him?" Seras was quiet, unsure how to argue with Reece. It still didn't feel right to her.

"Seras, you showed restraint. That's a good thing, whether the nuns or whoever understands that or not. If you'd used all your power against that one boy, not only would you be in a world more trouble, but you would have 'eaten' him.

"In a world where it's 'eat or be eaten,' everyone is selfish and will prey upon those weaker than them. And your teacher is wrong: that's exactly what the orphanage is. But that's a bad thing."

"Really?"

"Yes. In a world like that, people die for no reason and every person is no better than an animal. That's the system this boy was using, and that's the system your Headmaster uses just as well. But," Reece added, smiling mischievously, "you have the power to make the orphanage a place BETTER than that. A place of justice, true justice."

Seras looked up, wide-eyed in confusion. "How."

"Rather than fighting the weak that pick on you, defend the weak that are being abused themselves. And always take responsibility for your actions, because they are not wrong. Fight for others rather than yourself."

"But," Seras stammered, "none of the other kids like me anyway."

"And what have you done to them, except avoid and scare them?"

She was silent. It all made sense to her, in a way. Seras was reminded of her father as a child, and all the bullies he beat up for other kids. She smiled at the memory.

"Okay," Seras said. "I'll try."

"That's my girl," Reece smiled and patted her back. Seras hugged him, and the two returned to the work bench.

Almost an hour had passed before Seras spoke again.

"Reece, would you fight for justice and sacrifice yourself?"

"Seras, if there's one thing that I've learned in my time, it's that those are the two things that people respect most."

"That's not an answer." Reece didn't say anything for a while.

"Reece," Seras said again. "How did you die?"

Reece saw the little brunette girl, covered in blood, again. His little hands were shaking her, but the girl's eyes wouldn't open again. He heard a child's voice crying out from somewhere far away.

"Nylla!"

Another vision appeared. A huge horse, armored in iron plating, scraped its hooves against the dirt road. On top of it, looking down at Reece imposingly, was a metal man. His face was hidden behind a pointed helmet, but his eyes blazed in reflection to the fires around them. He brandished his spear, and Reece saw two tiny hands pick up a stick from the ground. The horse and the hands with the stick charged at each other, and Reece could hear screaming come from all sides.

Then he was back in his workshop, and Seras was still looking up at him.

"I told you before," Reece said, smiling warmly. "I don't remember."

Two Reaper games passed since the day Seras hit that boy with a rock. Or at least, the first boy she hit with a rock. Before long Seras was the defender of the orphanage, and the little kids loved her as much as the meaner ones hated her. But they knew they couldn't touch her, and the Headmaster never did keep his promise to kick her out if she got in any more fights. To the contrary, for a while Seras dominated the staff as much as she did the bullies, because most of them were just as mean. And so long as Seras wore her pendant and carried her key, no one could touch her.

And then she didn't go to the Reaper HQ one night.

And then she didn't show up again.

And then the winner of the Reaper Game wasn't resurrected on schedule.

"Mr. Nayake!" Oni charged through the halls of the HQ. Reece turned a corner and met with him. "Where's Seras? The winner hasn't been resurrected, and no one knows what to do!"

"I know," Reece responded urgently. "I don't know where Seras is, I don't know the orphanage."

"What?!" Megan charged up the hall, Richard following close behind her. "How do you not know where she lives? Seras tells you everything!"

"... I was forbidden to interact in her RG life, so I'm not allowed to know where she lives."

The three went up in an uproar of disbelief. "Come on! What kind of rule is that?"

"What if she's in danger!"

"We need to find her."

"Look, I just follow the rules, alright?" Reece yelled over them. "We'll get Seras, okay? I'll just contact the Higher Ups, and they'll get her. No problem." The three Reapers weren't satisfied, but before they could continue to complain Reece's phone beeped.

"See? They probably already found her." He touched his phone and studied the text briefly. Suddenly his expression changed, and all the blood ran from his face. His mouth opened, but only a couple gurgling sounds came from it.

"Mr. Nayake?" Richard said cautiously. "What is it?"

"It... it can't be." The cell phone slipped from Reece's hand, and he took off down the hall. The Reapers looked at each other, and Oni picked up the phone and read the text. Megan covered her mouth in horror.

"Oh God..."

"Due to the disappearance of composer Seras Victoria, the title shall be filled by miss Annabelle King effective immediately. Our decision is final."

Reece burst through the doors to the throne room in a fury, and stopped frozen when he saw the tall, dark figure sitting on the throne.

"Why hello Mr. Nayake," Annabelle chimed, grinning triumphantly. "Or, no, I'll call you Reece from now on. It is my right, isn't it?"

Reece fell to his knees, his arms waving impotently. He could feel his mind snap into a million pieces in the span of hour-long seconds. There was an invisible spear jutting out of his chest, and he could feel blood gushing from the imaginary wound. Tears filled his eyes, and Reece began to sob.

"So, Reece, shall we make some games? I've got plenty of ideas!"

*Faints on the floor* Finally after 1 month and non-stop typing we have finished the chapter!

-Minor dictionary time:
The Reapers' Game (死神のゲーム Shinigami no Gēmu) is a one-week competition in which those who have died may participate. Each potential participant is approached shortly after their passing and is given the choice by the Reaper. Games usually take place weeks apart, but sometimes games can be held two times in a row, and in rare instances, three times. Every contestant is called a Player and is given a player pin as a sign of his or her entry. To enter in the game every player has to pay an 'entry fee', that is taken by the Player must give up whatever is dearest to them in order to participate. This entry fee can be physical, such as mementos or people, or more physical or immaterial such as one's appearance, dreams, or memories.

Ok, I admit I feel bad for not including Neku and Joshua in this chapter. So...I decided to put them in the Omake!
Warning 4th wall breaking ahead.

Omake time! ^_^

Joshua and Neku were on top of a building just talking, "So Joshua it seem are 2 writers don't need us for this chapter, you wanna play some Kingdom Hearts:DDD (Dream, drop,distance) I got it before you dragged me here". Neku said suggestively, Joshua nodded. Neku then turned on the game and started playing they were surprised to see themselves in the game. "So wait why are we in Twilight Town? Better yet what happened to Shibuya did you destroy it Josh?" Neku questioned Joshua. "Neku, why would I destroy Shibuya you won the game and made me change my mind I wouldn't backstab you." Neku just glared at Joshua and then returned to the game.

A few minutes later Neku is dumbstruck when he sees Joshua sprout wings
"WHAT THE HELL ! WHY DO YOU HAVE ANGEL WINGS?!" Neku Shouted.
"I don't know maybe Nomura decided to give me my wings finally" Joshua said calmly
Neku again glared at him.

(3 Hrs later)

Neku looked agitated, one because he realized him and his friend were only put there for tutorial, two because he is having to revisit Traverse town...again.

"So is there any other reason why they are back in Traverse Town other than the fact there chasing after Spellican?" Neku questioned. "I don't think so I think this for some screen time that it.",Joshua Replied to Neku.

(3 more hours and 1 annoying boss fight later)

Neku Has almost completed the game and he very mad, "So you're telling me we are only in the game for tutorial and we don't even get to assist Sora or RIku against Org.13 well that total BS."Neku stated/ Joshua nodded his head in agreement.
"I mean this is more disappointing than the countdown that Square Enix had to countdown to a stupid Soundtrack, which pissed thousand of fans off."Neku stated again. "Well I do have to agree it would have been better to see us fight alongside Sora or Riku, but this is the 3DS were talking about,it probably didn't have enough power to do so." Joshua explained to Neku. "Well I guess you're right it better than being forgotten by our fans" Neku said calmly.

Soon Neku finished the game and watched the ending credits go by,

"Well, that was actually pretty decent it was actually pretty fun" Neku said honestly, Joshua just nodded.
"So do you think we will ever get a sequel?" Neku asked Joshua. "Hopefully I mean there are fangirls that loved the game, i'm pretty sure they will have our sequel between 5 to 10 years." Joshua stated truly. Neku just agreed and waited for their turn to be in the next chapter
_

Word count:19,594

Page count:31

Started 8/22/13 and Ended on 9/27/13

Next time, Seras goes deeper into the reaper game!