Every soul has its expiration date; an hourglass through which the length of a soul's time on Earth will filter before it is taken for judgement. There is a time and a cause for all of them. Death is unavoidable and cannot be cheated. It cannot be truly foreseen by the average mortal but nonetheless it has all been predetermined.

Not once in the ever-stretching eternity of its existence had the Reaper thought to question its own role in maintaining the balance of life and death. Its duty as the harbinger of death and the courier of lost souls was absolute.

Silently and ominously, it would appear before a soul whose time was drawing to a close and sever the chain that tethered said soul to its host body. Once their destination had been reached, they were no longer its concern, but on these journeys the Reaper came to develop the habit of observing their reactions as they remained somewhat aware of their circumstances.

It had seen them weep over lives lost and lessons wasted, heard them beg to see their loved ones just one more time. Most simply wanted a second chance to right their wrongs. Although it lacked the capacity to empathise with these remnant emotions, it had seem them all in turn. There was something beautiful in their expressions and the attachment to memories they would inevitably lose.

For the first time, it felt the desire to know more. It wanted to experience everything its counterpart had to offer... To be human, even if only for a little while.

Driven by this newfound sense of curiosity, and with no real awareness of the consequences, the urge to abandon its duties in pursuit of this knowledge was too strong to ignore. Death devised a plan within its own flourishing mind. If it could find a way to transport itself into a host body at the moment of death, it might find a way to experience this thing called life.