5012

This week certainly had n't gone as he'd planned. And normally, 5012 was a very structured reaper; always on schedule, always respecting the rules. He'd never known anything else, and he'd never thought of straying from that path. But after 8394 and that... mortal of his, by whom he'd somehow become so fascinated, who had revealed to him the truth about the origins of existing reapers... 5012 didn't know how he felt. Angry, mostly. But he couldn't refute it if the text was in the Library of the Lost. It was potentially the only place in the entire Underworld where he would know for sure that what the books contained was true.

In a single night, 5012's entire worldview had been shattered. 'Casper' and his 'Sunshine' were working to spread more awareness about the matter among other reapers, and 5012 had been... reflecting, for lack of a better term, on everything he had believed up to that point. He was never one to question his superiors. He didn't understand why other reapers would. But in this situation, it wasn't his place to be judge, jury, or executioner.

Prolonged exposure to the world of the living and the humans who resided there simply made the reapers mortal again. And 5012 wasn't sure he was ready for such vulnerability again. Reapers like him were designed to live and endure throughout the entire continuum of the universe. It had been decades —centuries, even—since he had last truly felt.

5012 swears by the nine hells, and by whatever gods are above—why now? Why like this? He used to look down on guys like 8394 and the other reapers the organization had ended up eliminating because of foolish emotions that had no place in their work. But—damn this, damn everything—

Because he's realized he's starting to sink to that level. You, a mortal.