"Yeah," said Blaze. "I'm just not used to acting as a Meister." He checked his reflection in a window. He was miffed about the now-shortened patch of hair, but he would live. However, what he was most upset about was the bullet hole in his jacket. He fogged up the window.

"Forty-two, forty-two, nine sixty-four..." Blaze tapped the glass. Soon the Grim Reaper had appeared. "Hello, Lord Death. Weapon-Meister Blaze reporting."

"Oh, it's good to see ya!" Lord Death said. "So, have you collected the Souls?" Blaze hung his head.

"No, sir..."