Reaper's cloak flapped in the dry yet gentle wind. He observed the woman with the gas mask as she approached, and could feel the presence of several trapped souls. Being the Grim Reaper, he had extra senses like that. Suddenly, the trapped souls disappeared from his radar, He could no longer feel their presence, but just one soul taking their place. 

He didn't move at the sight of her firearm. The bullets wouldn't pass through him, but they would hardly be an effective tool to slay him. He was the Reaper, a god in his own right that took souls away from the land of the living.

"Your mask." He spoke suddenly to the woman, his free hand pointing at her face. "Does it change you? Bind you with another? Are you more than you were without it?" While sandstorms were somewhat common, there hadn't been one in the area in quite some time, and the mask could have just been an accessory. She could have just wandered to the shack. They were all possible. "Remove your mask." He told her. Penn wanted for it to sounds like a request than an order, but the Reaper is hardly ever wavering. 

He then pointed with his scythe in the direction of the other being near him, the one that used to be the collective form of several souls. "Your mask is unique." he spoke as powerfully as ever. "Go inside, more will be explained shortly."