In the quiet depths of night, as I slumbered, the little boy I had bid farewell to reappeared at the edge of my bed, accompanied by an angel standing silently behind him. The child gently patted me before turning to glance at the angel, who offered a slight nod before abruptly turning away.
The Grim Reaper, it appears, is a mantle passed down through the ages; and in this generation, fate has bestowed it upon me. This is neither myth nor legend—it is a palpable reality unfolding before our very eyes......
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