Piper Waller-Staggs

Gravespade

As Death flew through the world consumed by ash, he tried to piece together where he went wrong. Time, for Death, changed when the world had. He used to wander through the space of time endlessly, from puzzle piece to puzzle piece, searching through a broken pane of glass for his own continuity. Time was a gossamer web spun from whatever shape he desired, and remembering this he almost reminisced, but couldn't even comprehend it anymore. Every moment here lasted forever; he could no longer fly freely through the spectrum of his infinite influence. He had none. Time was linear, and he had little else to do. Everything had died, putting an end to death. He was starving. He was going crazy.