—You again? — the emptiness in the cloak asked me when I once again died and crossed the line. “I don’t want this, but at least it doesn’t hurt here,” I answered Death, no longer afraid, like a friend. This evening I see her for the fifth time, quite enough to get used to it and not be afraid of the white space in the middle of which she sits on a throne of gray shadows. -You are strong, but not trained. Let's do this, if you are not saved again, then I will kiss you. You will be my assistant on the other side. Your magic is borderline with mine, but you haven’t attracted a patron. Shaking her head, she looked over her right shoulder. As if that same patron was hiding there, but had no intention of coming out. Not to someone like me. Not to the pathetic girl.