The old man lay quietly on the bed, and his cloudy eyes became clear at this moment. "Ah, this is a reflection of light," he thought, while looking at the girl beside the bed.
The girl wore a big hood, covering her eyes, revealing a pale chin and less bloody lips.
She held a somewhat huge scythe in her hand, with a pure black handle and a shining silver blade engraved with strange lines. Everything seemed to announce what she was going to do in the next second.
The old man stared at her and slowly spoke.
"Are you... The God of Death?"
The girl took off her hat and showed her beautiful face.
"I'm not."
"We are not the gods of death."
Concept: An adventure story of girls who transformed after death