An older teen, probably no older than 16, gasped and struggled for breath as they ran. The night was damp and cold, and the ragged clothing they wore offered little protection against the chill. The clouds hung ominously in the heavens above, so the bleeding moon could barely be seen through the cover. The teen paid no mind to the fact that there was no one around, they constantly looked over their shoulder like an animal that is being chased. The sounds their feet made were quickly swallowed up by the empty night. Finally, the dark clouds above burst and allowed water to pour down from heaven to drench them. At last, the teen stopped, leaning tiredly against a dirty brick wall to catch their breath. Up ahead, only one building had a light shining through a colored pane.

Clutching their garments about them, the teen went to the building's heavy wooden doors and pressed their hand against it. The right hand door of the church, for that's what the building was, swung open easily and soundlessly at the push. The teen scurried in out of the cold and rain and pulled the door shut behind them, closing off the church from the outside world.

Heavy drops of rainwater dripped down from the teen's hair as they plodded wearily up the aisle to the altar, where high candles cast off an eerie, yet somewhat tranquil glow. A flash of lightning from outside lit the windows, accentuating the images of three women shown in the images of the colored glass. Finally, the teen reached the steps up to the altar, but their feet could lift themselves no further and they collapsed to the stone. Long hair fell into their face, splashing water into their eyes. Finally, warm tears filled with fatigue and despair began to well up in their eyes and dripped down to the stone, mingling with the rain-water that dripped from their hair. The teen cried like this for a while, before the statue of the three women combined into one entity that towered to the high roof of the church.

"Wipe away your tears, child, and stand on your feet." The teen looked up, shocked that someone else was there. It was a nun, hands pressed lightly together at the palms with eyes closed and head slightly bowed, an image of serene prayer. Slowly, the sister spread her hands and extended them to the tear-stained, shivering teen. "You needn't run any more, child. For the trinity has heard your cries, and answered your pleas." Hovering above the extended hands, a strange object cloaked in a blue glow seemed to fade into existence. The light it gave off was warm, seeming to draw the teen's very essence to the object. Tentatively, they reached out a hand and, as if hypnotized, placed a hand on it. A warm feeling swept through their veins at the contact, seeming to spread to their very core.

The nun's serene face slowly made way to a dark smile, one that kept dark secrets and things that should never have seen the light of day. A flash of lightning lit up the windows, bathing the scene in shaded light that sent streaks of red over the two. As the power spread from the teen's touch, they felt their true emotion. Not fear and despair, but anger and hatred so deep it could have rended the earth to its' core. The nun opened her eyes, nothing but glowing red appearing from under the lids. These eyes stared down at the teen at her feet, and sparked with something dark.

"What is your wish?"

–

"Alrighty then, bye bye, see ya, see ya!" Spirit smiled and waved from behind Lord Death as the student on the other side of the mirror disappeared from view. Once the image faded and the surface of the mirror turned back to a regular mirror, Lord Death turned around to face his Death Scythe.

"Well, it seems our students are doing very well. I'd say some of them are about halfway there in creating a death scythe. Perhaps we'll soon have some young blood to help us along."

"I'll agree with you there, sir. The students are progressing very well." Of course, in the back of his mind, he was always rooting for his little girl. Maka and Soul had made up a lot of ground since the Blair incident, and he was rooting for his daughter every step of the way. Lord Death seemed to remember something and his hand appeared to he could snap his fingers.

"Oh yes, Death Scytge, I almost forgot. How is the search for the Kishin coming along?" Spirit sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Not very well. It seems to have dropped off the radar at the moment. Azusa is still looking up leads, so we should have something soon." The grim reaper nodded, obviously pleased by the latter information.

"Good, good. How about Marie? Has she been keeping Stein in check?"

"Far as I know, yes. He hasn't been doing anything to radical, so I'd say she's doing pretty good so far. At any rate, she said she hasn't come up with any weird scars on her when I asked, so I know that he's at least not experimenting on her in her sleep. Not like with me, at any rate." Just the memory of those goings-on made him shiver. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise up at the thought of it. "Also, Justin has-" Before he could tell his meister what Justin had been doing, the mirror rippled and swirled until a face appeared on the other side. Death the Kid stood at the calling end, as it was his face that showed in the mirror.

"Oh, hold that thought, Death Scythe. Kid! Hello! Hello! Wassup? Wassup?" Kid nodded at his father's greeting.

"Hello father, Death Scythe. I wanted to report in. I have just collected 100 Kishin eggs, 50 for Liz and 50 for Patty. So I just thought I would tell you that I am now at the halfway point." Lord Death nodded, excitedly.

"Very good! Nicely done, kiddo!" Spirit nodded in agreement with Lord Death's praise.

"Right, nice job. You're halfway there already. With your skill I'd say you don't have much longer until you've collected all the souls you need. You'll be done before you know-" He cut off his sentence suddenly with a grunt. Almost instinctively, his hand went up and was held over his chest. This didn't go unnoticed by the Kid.

"Is something wrong, Death Scythe?" Spirit realized that he had been seen and looked up, finding both father and son Death looking at him. He straightened himself and carefully tucked his hand into his pocket, as if trying to avoid the incident.

"Huh? Oh, nothing. Just a little hiccup, I'm fine." His boss's son looked at him incredulously.

"Are you sure? That didn't seem very much like a hiccup." Spirit waved that comment away with his free hand.

"Naw, it's fine. Just need a drink of water and I'll be good. May I, Lord Death?" Lord Death nodded at his death scythe's request and Spirit exited the Death Room. He headed straight to the men's bathroom and locked the door carefully behind him. Just as the bolt clicked into place, another pang rang throughout his chest, causing his hand to jump over his heart again. With a bit of effort, he staggered over to the sink and leaned against it, waiting for the vibrations in his chest to stop. With one hand balancing him upright against the sink, he looked into the mirror. He let out another grunt, eyes shooting open.

"No, it can't be happening yet, not so soon," he murmured. He stared at his own eyes in the mirror, not wanting to believe what he was seeing. "Please, no." However, it was so. As he stared, his eyes faded back to their normal color and shape. But he was able to watch as the half-skull iris disappeared from his now-red eyes. He leaned his forehead against the mirror, eyes shut tight. "Looks like I don't have as much time as I thought. Maka... Maka. Whatever happens, I pray that you will follow your dream, no matter what happens to me," he glared at the slowly fading red in his irises, "or what I become."