There's not a shred of confusion or fear or... emotion in Death's face. He moves with purpose, abandoning his sense of self in favor of the task at hand. Death Incarnate calls upon his wings, dark against the bright rainbow lights filling Jinnjar City even as it crumbles. He looks more like the grim god he's supposed to be.
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There's not a shred of confusion or fear or... emotion in Death's face. He moves with purpose, abandoning his sense of self in favor of the task at hand. Death Incarnate calls upon his wings, dark against the bright rainbow lights filling Jinnjar City even as it crumbles. He looks more like the grim god he's supposed to be.
"Where is everyone gathering?"