Somewhere, deep in the farthest reaches of the Have a Nice Death Multiverse, hidden from the eyes of most, existed a secluded paradise known only to a privileged few as World of Bora Bora. This serene world, a pristine fragment of existence, stood as an idyllic utopia shaped by the Passions of Life, Inc., a whole entire world tailored perfectly to cater to one special someone, who was none other than Death himself. For it was a world where every detail—the rustling of the palm trees, the clear horizon, the golden sands, the deep blue ocean—was all made to be the way it is according to the specifications of Death.
Nevertheless, it was an open secret that the Passion's of Life, Inc. actions and decisions on shaping the World of Bora Bora were due to the personal tastes of Death, CEO of Death, Inc., for whom he had used his considerable influence to secure a vacation world. Whether it had been a mutual agreement between the two separate but codependent companies remained a subject of speculation. But in truth, such questions hardly mattered, at least not here. What mattered was the simple truth: Death had come to this quiet corner of existence to rest, and rest he fucking did, with everything he could possibly need right at his skeletal fingertips.
As he now reclined lazily in a hammock woven from what looked like the finest strands of silken vines, Death felt the weight of the world, or perhaps the lack of it, dissolve away. The hammock was strung between two towering coconut trees, their bark weathered and knotted by the passage of time, on an isolated island in the world of Bora Bora that is extremely far removed from the busy corridors of his office at Death, Inc.
While the sun of Bora Bora hung lazily in the sky, bathing the world in its golden glow and casting long shadows over the many archipelagos of Bora Bora.
It felt like an eternity since he'd experienced such a moment. Here, there was no looming stack of paperwork, no buzzing of endless demands, or the constant, ever-present hum of productivity. In the space between his non-breaths, Death allowed himself to truly breathe; his bones, though bare of flesh of any sort, could feel the warmth sinking deep into the marrow of his being. The sensation, a stark contrast to the cold, rigid routines of his daily existence at his office, was soothing. He hadn't felt this kind of comfort in what seemed like millennia.
The ocean waves, rhythmic and steady, lapped against the shore in the distance, their sound soft and soothing. The hammock creaked gently as it swayed in the breeze, a soft lullaby to accompany the perfect moment. This, this was what Death had longed for, what he had craved in the deepest recesses of his being. It reminded him of the Distant Past, back when Death, Inc. was a mere glimmer of an idea, before the days of Life, Inc., before all the grand complexities of existence even existed. Back when things were simpler, it was just a small family business between Time, Life, and himself. The Good Ol' Days, as he liked to think of it. The days when rest was not a luxury but a necessity and when he wasn't burdened by the weight of his company.
And here, in the midst of all this tranquility, Death was reminded of what it truly meant to exist, not just be, to feel the warmth, the peace, and the fleeting comfort of being in a world designed purely for his personal solace.
But Death wasn't naive. He was well aware that this peace, as fleeting and precious as it was, wouldn't last forever. Life, ever the energetic perfectionist with an unyielding drive, had always been the one who bothered him the most. She wasn't content simply maintaining the balance of existence; no, she sought to improve, to push, to expand, to turn everything into a whirlwind of activity and productivity. And now, she had made it her mission to wrest control of Death, Inc. from him, always accusing him of being a "lazy bag of bones."
He chuckled dryly to himself at the thought. It wasn't that he didn't work—far from it. It was just that he couldn't keep up with the pace she demanded from him. As he had long ago since mastered the art of sustainable reaping, his own balance. But life? She had always been the one to push for the next thing, the bigger, better, faster, more. Her relentless, high-energy drive was something that could never be satisfied. He could keep up if he tried, yes, but there was a limit to what even he could endure. He wasn't created to match her output nor her limitless energy.
And yet again and again, she still blamed him for his so-called 'slow' pace of work. For her, it was always about more—more life, more creation, more production. To her, even his most efficient days were a sign of his laziness. Bah!. It wasn't his fault she couldn't accept that her other half is not as energetic as she is when it comes to work or that his office wasn't a constantly efficient and orderly place like hers.
He shook his skull at the thought. Life had challenged him before, and though it was rarely ever part of some grand scheme of hers, she always insisted on testing him in combat, on proving once again that she could outpace him, outmaneuver him, and ultimately beat him in some way or another. It was a cycle that had repeated countless times. No matter how many times he bested her in the recent past, no matter how many defeats she'd suffered, she always came back for more. It was as if her stubbornness could not be extinguished, no matter the outcome.
But that was a thought for another time.
For now, though, Death let the once familiar tension in his bones slip away. There was no need to dwell on her, not here, not now. In this moment, he allowed himself to savor the rare luxury of stillness, of having nothing to do but breathe, or the closest thing to it. The hammock swayed gently in the breeze, the sky gradually changing hues as the sun sank lower in the distance, casting a warm, golden light across the ocean. The scent of salt and tropical flowers filled the air. It was a moment of pure solitude, of peace from his duties.
As he gazed at the horizon, watching the sun melt into the sea, a rare, skeletal grin spread across his face. Perhaps Life would come for him again. Perhaps she would challenge him once again, and their little cycle between him and her would once more resume its course. But for now, in this peaceful world, it didn't matter.
For the first time in a very, very long time, Death allowed himself to enjoy the simplicity of being in peace. And as he leaned back into the hammock, the sound of the ocean waves was a sound he found very soothing at the very least.
And as Death was about to reach for another coconut, grumbling to himself as he stretched his skeletal arm lazily toward it. The coconut, as if mocking his attempt at relaxation, sat just out of his grasp, swinging gently in the breeze.
"Stubborn little—" he muttered, irritation creeping into his voice, "—uncooperative…"
But before he could finish his complaint, the multiverse, it seemed, had other plans. Behind him, an ominous crack tore through the very fabric of reality. A swirling vortex of raw void ripped through the air, its edges jagged and unpredictable, distorting the world around it. The skies of Bora Bora darkened as the disturbance grew, like the multiverse itself had decided to remind him personally that his peace never lasts for long.
But somehow still being unaware of the impending swirling vortex, Death's bony fingers still reached out for the coconut, frustration mounting as he failed to get a solid grip on the rebellious coconut.
Then, he felt it.
A sudden, sharp tug, a force unlike any other, unrelenting and impossible to ignore. His empty eye sockets widened as the pull of the vortex yanked at his very essence. It was as if the multiverse had decided that now was the time to disrupt his moment of tranquility.
With a snap, he realized what was happening, and panic surged through him.
"Not today, Void! " Death yelled out with his skeletal form, flailing as his "legs" kicked wildly in the air, trying to anchor him to the small patch of paradise he had acquired for himself. His skeletal fingers tried desperately to claw at the nearest coconut tree, the bark scraping against his bones as he clung to it with every ounce of determination. The tree groaned under the strain, but it held for a moment.
"I just got my vacation!" he cried out in frustration, his voice an eerie mix of disbelief and anger. But the vortex was having none of it.
The pull grew stronger, and his grip began to falter. His bony fingers dug into the tree's rough bark, leaving deep grooves, but it wasn't enough. The vortex's grip on him was too powerful. His limbs, once steady and commanding, now flailed helplessly as his fingers slipped. With one final, inevitable tug, the vortex tore him away, wrenching him away from the tree.
"No, no, no! " he bellowed, his voice rising in desperation, as he once again tried to reach for anything that could anchor him. His skeletal hand grasped at the hammock as he passed through it, his hammock, in a last-ditch attempt to stay grounded. But the hammock was easily snapped in half, its fraying ropes giving way to the force of the pull. Death spun wildly, the motion so fast it sent him whirling like a bony top, limbs flailing in every direction.
With a final, dramatic swirl, the vortex consumed him whole, pulling him into the swirling void beyond it. The island was left eerily still, save for the faint sloshing of multiple coconuts that are now slowly drifting in the coastal waters surrounding the island.
Some unknown time later...
Meanwhile, back in the wider Have a Nice Death multiverse, things were running, well, smoothly enough, at least for the most part in the Underworld. As the usual hum of activity filled the halls of Death, Inc., Sorrows and Thanagers shuffled between tasks in their respective departments, their every action performed with the kind of cautious efficiency born from their recent thrashings from their boss. And now they followed his decrees without question for now, knowing better than to challenge the will of their boss even if he's not present, who now has a new reputation for making even the most powerful of the Sorrows be put in line.
For a moment, it seemed like the typical, bureaucratic buzz of Death, Inc., as papers were shuffled, clocks were ticking, and forms were being stamped. The rhythm of working, like the ticking of a clock, was steady and without incident at all.
And for the time being, it seemed, there was peace. Especially as no one dared to question the absence of Death, the CEO himself. After all, Death wasn't exactly known for his regular attendance to each department, nor was he a stickler for a rigid schedule ever since his fallout with Life. If anyone at all had noticed that their usual short, bony boss was missing from his usual spot at his office, they had long since chalked it up to a long vacation or something. Perhaps he'd gone off to take another moment of tranquility somewhere, or perhaps something even more personal had drawn him away. They couldn't say for sure, but the work of the company kept turning, and that was all that mattered to them at present.
Thus, everyone was content to let it slide—everyone, that is, except for one being.
Life.
Always the tireless workaholic, the embodiment of infinite energy, creation, and the unstoppable drive that shaped the very fabric of existence, Life was never one to sit idly by when something felt off. And at present, something most certainly felt off.
Her senses, sharp as ever, extended across the expanse of the Have a Nice Death Multiverse as she arrived in the Underworld for a rare visit. She wasn't often one to make trips here—especially not for what she classified as "business"—but something had drawn her. The absence of a certain presence, to be specific. The absence of Death.
Her mind raced, and she quickly stretched her awareness to find that one thing, the one constant she could always rely on: the familiar sensation of Death's essence. For all the conflict and tension between them, for all the times they had clashed and disagreed, especially after their fallout, Death was still her equal, her counterpart. Her codependent business partner. Her partner since the very beginning.
She had always been able to sense his presence, his cold, unbothered, unyielding yet lazy existence that echoed through the multiverse like a whisper of inevitable finality. It was a subtle signal, a low hum that told her where he was, so she could keep track of him.
But now?
Nothing.
Nada.
The absence of his essence was wrong. It was beyond unusual; it was unnerving. How could Death, the ever-present figure who could never truly disappear from the multiverse, simply vanish without a trace? Especially when he had always been the one to leave some kind of mark. A note, a sign, a breadcrumb of some sort. She was his codependent business partner, after all. They had an understanding ever since the outcome of the failed corporate takeover. He was lazy, yes, but he always informed someone of his plans. His assistant, at the very least. Or maybe even herself, just to mock her. He loved to mock her. But nothing. No message, no cryptic note, not even a trace of his familiar presence.
Her brows furrowed in frustration. How could he do this? How could he simply vanish from the multiverse without a word? Life, ever the pragmatist, began to mentally run through the possibilities. There was no logical reason for him to disappear like this. He had always been present, if only in the background for his laziness. Even on his useless "vacations," there were signs. He never truly took a break from his responsibilities, and he certainly never let her forget it.
But this? This was different. This was too much. It felt... suspicious.
She frowned deeply, realizing something she wouldn't ever admit aloud. She had been so absorbed in her own endless work, her constant push for more creation, more life, more development, and more of everything, that she hadn't even noticed the subtle absence of Death until now. She had been too focused on her own tasks, too driven by her ceaseless need to develop existence, to truly feel that he wasn't there. Her frown deepened. How typical. She had been too caught up in her perfectionist grind to notice that her counterpart had disappeared without so much as a whisper.
Her frustration simmered as she acknowledged the truth: she couldn't trust anyone else to handle this. No one else would have the attention to detail, the sharp mind, or the energy to deal with something like this properly. If Death was truly missing and not hiding in some corner just to mess with her, then it was her responsibility to find him. So, with the typical flare of boundless energy that defined her very essence, she made her decision.
She would investigate personally.
Her energy surged, the familiar rush of eternal power flowing through her veins. She moved with purpose, her usual exuberance muted by a quiet intensity. As she moved deeper into the cold, familiar corridors of Death, Inc., there was an unsettling stillness in the air. The halls, usually buzzing with the low hum of conversations, the shuffle of papers, and the monotonous ticking of clocks, were eerily calm. Too calm.
The workers, the Sorrows and Thanagers, were moving about with their usual routines, but there was a palpable unease to their actions. They glanced up nervously when she passed, but none of them dared to speak, as though they were all expecting Death to pop out of nowhere if they once again went rogue. It was wrong, Life thought, her eyes narrowing as she checked every department with meticulous attention. She checked left and right, searching for anything, any sign of Death's presence. Was he truly hiding somewhere in the halls of his company? It was unlikely. They were too much alike, too equal in their powers for him to be able to truly hide his presence from her. But even so, there were always other possibilities.
As she thought of other possibilities, she could almost hear his mocking laughter in her head: "Trying to find me, Life?" You do know you're wasting your time, right?.
Her eyes sharpened with irritation. He wouldn't get that satisfaction.
Then she pushed on, moving through the halls with boundless energy, but her usual vibrancy was subdued but no less potent. Her analytical mind kicked into overdrive as she checked every corner, every office, every hidden crevice where Death might have stashed himself for whatever reason, perhaps to get some kind of reaction. It wasn't beyond him if he truly wanted to, but there would be at least a trace.
But there was nothing.
Nothing at all.
Life's frustration mounted, and with it came the insistent pull of her infinite energy. She would not stop. Not until she had answers. She was Life, the one responsible for everything that ever existed. She had made the first universe; she built this multiverse and conceived everything that existed with her mind. And she would not rest until she got the answers she sought, no matter how many layers of deception or chaos she had to unravel.
Because no one, not even Death himself, could hide forever against her.
And if Death thought he could… then she would prove him wrong, very wrong.
The Life stepped through a shimmering portal of light that she had summoned, leading to where she had last sensed death in the multiverse; the transition was almost instantaneous. One moment, she was in the corridors of Death, Inc.; the next, she was standing on a sunlit beach. The warm light of the tropical world bathed her, the soft sands sinking beneath her feet as she landed, her glowing white hair billowing like a cloud behind her, a stark contrast to the bright blue sky. Her sharp, piercing eyes scanned everything around her.
At first glance, everything appeared serene, almost too serene. The air was thick with the scent of saltwater, the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore a lullaby to the unwary. But then, her gaze locked onto something before her: a snapped hammock hanging loosely from the coconut palm trees that looked as if they were passed over by a tropical cyclone as coconuts drifted lazily across the coastal waters. The whole place screamed wrong to her personally. Out of place. Her mind raced as she pieced together the scene before her.
"Death! Where are you! , you old sack of bones?! " she called out, her voice carrying across the beach with an unusual force. The sound of her words bounced off the waves, echoing into the distance. The frustration in her tone was unmistakable, but beneath it, if just barely there, was a flicker of something else. Perhaps an extremely rare hint of concern. Of course, she'd never admit it.
Her dark gray skin stood in sharp contrast to the dazzling sunlight, her white robe, trimmed in gold, fluttering in the tropical breeze. It was an image of calm, but the fire in her eyes betrayed her agitation. She had every rightful reason to be frustrated. Death, her counterpart, her equal, had been missing for what felt like an eternity for her. And all that remained was this bizarre, unnerving silence.
Her gaze flicked back to the snapped hammock, and then, without thinking, she began to pace, her sharp eyes scanning every inch of the island. And then, as if her energy couldn't be contained any longer, she zipped around the island at a speed so fast she was little more than a blur, ripping through the place with the swiftness only Life herself could manage.
As she uprooted dozens of coconut trees from the earth with barely a thought, plucking them from their roots, examining each one before dropping them back into the soil, where they reintegrated instantly and their coconut palm leaves flourished, as if nothing had happened at all. She didn't even break a sweat. There was no time for that. She had more important things to focus on.
She stopped for a moment, her sharp gaze fixed on the snapped hammock. With a flick of her wrist, she adjusted it back into place, her frustration mounting as she huffed, letting out a barely contained sigh.
"He's probably on another island, lazing around somewhere, leaving me to clean up his mess." Her words came out in a sharp, irritated mutter, but she quickly snapped her fingers, and just like that, the drifting coconuts and every other mess disappeared into thin air. They were gone, leaving behind a hammock that is now laid on the ground untied, which she also fixed. But the search for Death still remained.
She floated upwards, her energy pulsing through the air around her, lifting her effortlessly as she began to scan the entire island once more. Time passed in a blur as she sped from archipelago to archipelago, searching high and low, from the tallest of island volcanoes to the deepest underwater caverns. Every inch of this world, from its highest peaks to its deepest parts, was examined, but there was still no sign of him. No note. No message. No trace of Him, the one she set out to search for.
And by the time she was back to the island where she started, her patience was all but spent. Her eyes burned with irritation as she landed once more on the sand, a fresh wave of frustration washing over her.
"I've searched this entire world, every tree, every island, every underwater cavern, every corner from the highest to the lowest. I have searched everywhere," she said, her voice rising in frustration as she kicked the sand beneath her with a force that sent grains scattering across the beach. "And still, no trace of that lazybones whatsoever. Not even a hint of him!"
Her chest rose and fell with each breath, the energy she radiated crackling around her, as she thought to herself that she should be working, creating, shaping. She shouldn't have put effort into searching for Death like this. And yet, here she was. Frustrated. Annoyed. Confused.
"Not only that," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest, her face twisting with barely contained irritation, "I still can't sense him still. What kind of nonsense is this?! "
Again, the idea of Death being able to hide from her, to vanish from her senses completely from the face of the universe, was a concept that she would never expect in her long, long life. It was simply not supposed to happen.
But there was no answer to her thoughts. The island remained eerily silent, save for the rhythmic lapping of the waves against the shore. The very air seemed still, like the world was holding its breath. Life's irritation flared once more, her glowing white hair flickering and crackling like restless solar flares. The light around her seemed to pulse with her frustration, as if the very world around her could feel the intensity of her emotions.
"Nevertheless, wherever you've gone, Death, you'd better believe I'll find you, one way or another, eventually! " she growled, her voice a low, resonating snarl, her energy surging around her. The words were a promise, a vow, a goal she set up for herself to find him.
Despite her simmering rage and growing frustration, Life couldn't deny the uncomfortable truth that gnawed at her with every passing moment. She needed him. Whether she liked it or not, Death was the counterpart to her existence, the other side of the same coin. Creation and destruction, bound together for eternity, each of them unable to exist without the other. She might hate his laid-back, lazy attitude and his disregard for responsibility, but without him, the multiverse wouldn't function. Without Death, the endless cycle of life would come to a screeching halt. No Finality. No balance. No...space for her to create.
And she had always resented, ever since their fallout, the fact that they were so intricately bound, that her existence was forever bound to his. But now, in the silence of the island she is on, the uncomfortable reality settled deeper into her bones.
Letting out an irritated sigh, Life's posture softened, her frustration giving way to an uncomfortable acceptance. She was wasting time here. She needed answers. And if there was anyone who knew where Death had gotten himself, it was his pumpkin-headed assistant, Pump Quinn.
As much as she despised dealing with Quinn, that overly cheerful, pumpkin-headed nuisance, she had no choice. Quinn was, after all, Death's assistant, who handled some of Death's... matters, especially when Death decided to go off the grid. She knew Quinn would have answers. And if she didn't, well, she would always have her answer, one way or another.
With a sharp motion, she raised her hand, mobilizing the boundless energy that flowed through her. A shimmering portal of light rippled into existence before her, swirling with iridescent colors that reflected herself. The moment the portal stabilized, she stepped forward, her form glowing even brighter as she readied herself for what was to come.
She turned her head slightly, speaking under her breath with a low, frustrated mutter. "Alright, Quinn," she said, her tone hardening. "Time to find out what mess your bony boss has gotten himself into this time."
Without another word, she stepped into the shimmering portal, her energy crackling in the air around her as she prepared for whatever waited on the other side.