The black hooded robe made of a thick kind of fabric covers my entire body. It has been torn and shredded by the corners due to the course of time. The hood just suspends over my pitch black face, which I kept hidden and decided to never show it to anyone. In my right hand is my great scythe I fervently grip with my long skeletal fingers. My silvery pale, featherless, sharp wings spanning the length of a hospital room if not folded.

Evon's hourglass is now completely empty. Unlike ordinary hourglasses that can be rotated to restart the time, this hourglass doesn't serve the same purpose. Once all sands fall from the upper bulb to the lower bulb, they will vanish. This indicates that time is something that cannot be repeated—that is why it is important to let everyone know that their days are numbered.

There are a few people in the hospital at the time which accentuates the echoing cries of Seya. The uneasiness caused by that makes me hover the floor to the exit. As I pass the hallway, the lights above me flicker as my scythe touches them. Humans don't have the ability to see me in my real form, which is also convenient for me because I don't have an ample time and frame of mind to deal with them. Only the timed people are able to see and talk to me.

Timed people are the ones nearing their deaths. At some point before their passing, they are capable of fabricating a state, a pause in time in the real world that allows me to have a conversation with them. Within this moment, I can make them understand that their time is on its limit. I can approach them as a stranger, or in my real form, whichever is more suitable.

The view of the people swarming on the streets of New York City greets me when I go outside. It is one of those times which help me feel at peace. Certainly, there are among them who don't want the life they are living. They struggle on a daily basis, yet they keep on going forward. But the thought of them moving to make ends meet, just merely passing to run some errands, working for their dreams, doing just about anything no matter how tiring or idle the day is, makes me realize how beautiful life is.

They are breathing. They are living. They are alive.

I rise above the One World Trade Center, the tallest building in New York, to better see the vicinity of the city, which is also known as Gotham, but is most famous for its name Big Apple. At night, the bright, gleaming lights coming from the other buildings, towers and different establishments give color to the entirety of America's biggest metropolis.

As one of the busiest cities in the world, the activities of people here never stop. Subway system runs twenty-four hours for the whole year. The streets, especially those within the commercial area, always pack a lot of people no matter what the time is. There are restaurants, diners or eateries and stores that are open at any time of the day. One can party all night and gets to go home within the wee hours of the morning because modes of transportation are still operational. Police are on patrol giving security to the citizens, workers and tourists alike.

Businesses also have their own nightlife for when the day is over, restocking and supplying of goods happen. Streets are cleaned, and so on. Delivery services are available all-day and all-night.

There is life around the clock. All of these take place while the world is sleeping. Thus, given the nickname of The City That Never Sleeps. Of all the names that the city is famous for, it is my favorite for it also represents me to a chasmic extent. Wakeful. Restless. Occupied.

The panorama never ceases to amaze me. The changing hue of the horizon that is tainted by light pollution, the cold, dry wind passing through and the moon hiding itself in the clouds, all combining to give me my much needed tranquility.

Atop the building, I look at the hourglasses of all the timed people in the world. Based on the latest annual statistics, there is an estimated amount of roughly fifty-six million people dying each year globally. Doing the math, that surpasses one hundred fifty thousand people per day. Exceedingly, six thousand hourly rate and by a minute of more than a hundred. Which will finally result in almost two people losing their life every second.

That being said, I occur to two people's deaths every pause in time they, themselves, or I, create. To make them understand that their time is near. To ready their soul by the time of their passing. Good thing is that I became transcendent many decades ago to cater to every soul. I can be at any place at the same time. This enables me to attend to their deaths every single second, whether they like it or not. They don't have a choice because they don't have control over their fate.

One of the owners of these hourglasses is Isandro Dreith Molver, a hardworking entrepreneur aiming to be named as one of the richest people in the world. He obviously has a knack to make that happen. Aside from being naturally born smart, he has values on par to people that he looks up to.

At a young age, he was already doing jobs here and there, performing labors for people in exchange for a sum of money. This continued until he discovered the benefits of being in the corporate world. Fixed salary depending on the amount of time rendered and performance is also observed for the basis of promotion. He moved up the ladder of the company pretty fast and was enjoying the success he achieved over the years.

But having a pre-existing model of the same ideas over and over made Isandro think that he can do better. That he can achieve better. One day, he just got tired of being an employee and started his own business. He got to manage his own time and be his own boss simultaneously. With the right amount of hustle and mindset, he is now the owner of the biggest trading company in New York.

I descend to the ground and go to Isandro's company located in Brooklyn. At this time of the day, all people working in formal businesses are now within the comfort of their home and family. But looking from outside the window, I see him still working with piles of paper on the table. Passing through the walls and hovering the hallways, I get to his office.

"I'm in the Zone. PLEASE. DO. NOT. DISTURB."

A signage dangling on the transparent sliding glass door. I shift to my human form and knock three times. Isandro doesn't respond. Unlike Evon who has a weak sense of hearing, Isandro is healthy in all aspects. So I’m sure he is able to hear my knocks and see me outside. I resume knocking and all I get is his stare. He glares at me as he points at the sign and continues to do the paper works in front of him.

By the looks of it, he certainly doesn't want to be disturbed. I knock once again hoping to get his attention. This time, he stands and walks towards me furiously, his brows crossed and his steps heavy. He opens the door and takes a deep breath, biting his lower lip to calm his nerves.

"Can't you read what's in here?" he says fumingly as he repeatedly points to the signage.

"Yes, Sands. I can read what's in there."

His gestures become stiff as I mention the nickname only his friends and family knows. Other than being a shortcut for his name, sands were also his favorite playthings when he was little. I am sure this reminds him of the time when he always brought dirt home as a result of combined sand and sweat on his shirt.

"How come you know that name?" His crossed brows earlier was a sign of anger, but now they suggest a daze.

"Does it bring back some memories?" I ask.

"Yeah, it surely brings those memories back."

He lets me into his office, offering me to sit on the sofa. There are different charts posted on the walls. On the whiteboard, graphs and labels of Phases, Distributions and Volume are manually drawn. The DLP projector shows some kind of running digital simulation. The office is neat and tidy, considering that he is doing a lot of things all at once.

"So, you... what brings you here?" He clicks his tongue after asking. That has been his mannerism over the years.

"Believe me, I don't mean to cause you any inconvenience, but what I am about to discuss is more important than the work you are currently doing."

“More important than these documents I need to sign for global partnerships, huh?” He sits on his mesh chair, lies comfortably and clicks his tongue again. He nods and puts his finger on his chin. "All right. Let's hear it."

Without any other shenanigans, I utter, "You are about to die."

He taps the table with his fingers upon hearing me. "You're crazy," he says in disbelief.

"Yeah. I've been hearing that like a lot."

"All these hardships... all just leading me to my death. That's how I understand it." Sands rolls his sleeves up, loosens his buttons and lets out a sigh of impatience. He extends his arms and points towards the door. "Get out."

I move my left arm forward and turn my hand. His hourglass slowly appears on my palm making him more confused. It hovers with less than 12-hour worth of sands left. "Here is your hourglass. The amount of sands on top is your remaining time. Slowly, all the sand will fall indicating the end of your life."

"That's bullshit! You're bullshitting me!" he exclaims, pounding the table.

"I know this is so sudden. I am saying this to let you know. Not for you to escape, but for you to be ready. For when that moment comes, you will accept me unfeignedly."

Glimpse of Death. At this moment, people gradually grasp what is happening. Time is halted so for them, it feels like we are just talking for a complete second in the real world. As a result, they don't remember all things that have happened within this span of time. But I make sure to leave them an intuition, a keepsake I put within their subconscious.

Once more, he clicks his tongue as he looks at me with desperate eyes. "I still have a dream."

"But dreams alone do not change one's fate."

"So, that's it? I worked hard for nothing?"

"All these things aren't for naught," I say. I stand and turn my back to him. "These things are the symbol of your tenacity to rise above your limit. I saw how you persevere to reach the podium you are standing on right now."

He stares on the documents he was doing earlier, biting his lower lip as he lacks his jaw to the right. “Please spare me! There must be a mistake!”

“I also hope that this is a mistake.”

"Why do you appear just now? Why now? Just when I am about to reach the peak of my life.”

"I appeared before you many years ago. You might not remember me, but it's still clear to me how you enjoyed playing on the sandbox at the park."

"I don't... I don't understand."

"I approach people once in their life as a stranger. And if their time is nearing, I will introduce myself."

"Then, tell me. Who are you?"

It is the question I always hear, yet I will never get tired of answering. Without a hesitation I claim,

"I am the end of all the living. I am waiting from the day of everyone’s birth. I am everywhere, at any time of the day. I am the guide of all the venturing souls. I am Death."