In the beginning, Time witnessed the birth of Sol, the God. From this, a curious development kept Time distracted for millennia--which sounds much longer than it is to the keeper of the stream. The primordial life that spread across the world upon Sol’s arrival was much like lava, a bubbling and slow heat that created and destroyed all at once--a self-regulating system.

Given enough time, this primordia evolved to encompass more complex systems of life and the lava that once ravaged the planet cooled. The cellular monstrosities that dominated Earth were forced into the shadows as complex creatures washed ashore. And, within them, the essence of life itself drummed onward.

Perhaps it was this rhythmic drumming that drew Sol’s attention, or maybe it was an innate necessity, but the God hungered.

In her infinite wisdom, Time descended from ether to cast a shroud over the mortal plain. Thus, sentient creatures felt death for the first time.

The more essence of life Sol harvested, life grew more resistant. The tetrapods and amphibians adapted, reaching hardy reptilian forms.

Mammals arose as a genuine, unexpected threat. These mammals were smart--smarter by the century. Their essence tasted like a delicacy, prepared by millennia of evolution. Of course, they were stubborn.

The first mammals were clumsy, yes, and far too similar to their evolutionary ancestors to do much but soon they harnessed fire and tools that circumvented the natural flow that Time had worked tirelessly to construct in the service of Sol. Old nature had order; this new one did not. In fact, the Neanderthals and Homosapiens did everything to prolong their lives.

No longer feeling in control of the plain she had nurtured, Time returned home through the ether and found that something had arrived in her absence and, for once, the universe had given her something she wanted.

The first reapers arrived in waves--like carcasses washing ashore after an oil spill--but these pestilent beings from unknown places were alive. These primordials were vetted for their innate ability to traverse the ether that separated the mortal Earth from immortal Borea, assigned the sickle, and trained to harvest lives in service of Sol and order.

As with any functioning system, some reapers flourished. Others went along for the ride. Time gave them names to differentiate and accredit the greatest. She chose based on what her human enemy hated at the time: disease, famine, destruction, darkness.

No matter how many died, and no matter how many of their essences were harvested, the humans spread. Their fears were mangled into lust. They waged wars and sewed chaos. Genocide drummed loudly. Machines ripped flesh with ease.

Time established the Grand Reapers, a privilege bestowed upon only the greatest of great reapers. She started with four chosen harvesters, and the election of four held strong.

Order returned. For centuries, Time moved onward. Sol feasted on the follies of lesser intelligence. The Grand Reapers returned to the homeland with suits swollen in human essence, parading their bounties for the reapers to see. How the harvesting depot swallowed so many unleashed souls at once was a mystery--a sight for the ages.

As with all spectacle, the show grew old with time.