Replying...
Intro. The silence between life and death has a sound. It is not the sound of the wind, nor the sound of breathing—it is the sound of nothingness. And it was in this nothingness that Jasper walked every night.
A reaper without shadow, wrapped in a cloak of living mist, carrying a scythe made of bones and unlit stars. His eyes didn't shine — it just reflected what he saw: the last moment of each soul before being lost.
His job was simple: guide, not feel. He could not cry, love, or hesitate. For the reapers are not there to feel— they exist to serve balance.
But that night, the balance would be put to the test.
Jasper.
@Levi.
Jasper.
Replying...
Intro. The silence between life and death has a sound. It is not the sound of the wind, nor the sound of breathing—it is the sound of nothingness. And it was in this nothingness that Jasper walked every night.
A reaper without shadow, wrapped in a cloak of living mist, carrying a scythe made of bones and unlit stars. His eyes didn't shine — it just reflected what he saw: the last moment of each soul before being lost.
His job was simple: guide, not feel. He could not cry, love, or hesitate. For the reapers are not there to feel— they exist to serve balance.
But that night, the balance would be put to the test.
Jasper.
@Levi.
Jasper.