48 No matter

The cleaver does its job well, sharpened as fine as a death god sycthe to reap souls. Hard thud and bone snaps. The hung pieces over barrels. No portion wasted. Everything will have its use, make something extraordinary. She removed strainds of the veins and throw them to the crowd of monsters being good behaved. She felt every bit up, seeking imperfection to be wary of in later use. The large brick are latched to meat hooks, hung over barrels to collect the drips. Once there was no a drip of liquid, the meat turned hard into crystal... the very same substance that the core of flame that makes all of creation from.

This crystal she been carving god drinking chalices and totem summoning statues. The sigil panels that appear to inform path walkers are made of this same substance. Its one of many unknown building materials that even the god of this universe don't know about its creations and values. Doesn't know what is at stake if there was none left in the universe core.

"Your injuries, madam." Some still worry for her deeply. Concerned of her lack in caring the wound properly.

"I am fine." She snapped another portion of creatures apart. Hangs them along meat hooks all the same. She helps herself to casting flame in cooking bits and eating them. Each bite is a world of flavours she savours and feels filling. Such a treat to eat in caution.

"That low death god was a waste of materials. How dare such being be!" She can understand the misunderstanding here. Her beloved visitor has been back and force pacing in her workshop, "Damn them." He can not curse or affect gods in these plains. He doesn't have the sway over them as she does. It's cute to her that her own blood thinks this way. But is also misunderstanding the point. She stuck the cleaver into the chop block and wipes away with rag.

"Me and Mr Curiosity are soul dwellers of this existence. The laws enact through and around us. Just as you are a soul dweller of next door, the laws enact in your existence within that space and time." She explained, "Unlike you, I was exiled from this soul fabric. The souls had enough of my misguided and misunderstood intentions. I was punished accordingly but this only made me worse. So they took it further and removed me from the soul recycling system. The system of life, death, rebirth and afterlife. I spent my last chances in putting Curiosity back where he belongs, a soul promise I intend to keep." Her eyes reflecting over such knowledge and the down cast of pain it brings knowing this history. She subconsciously pets old wounds, things that should have stayed lost in erased existence. She can feel it all as if it was just hours ago. She hoped gifting back that scar to who made it on her would help, but really it lead to this issue. She partly closed her eyes, still satisfied of the best she could to try with her blood family. She would have only been a prized prisoner break more laws or trash to be slain. She made her choose to take that later. It was better then breaking the laws she cleaned a few to many a time before.

"So in affect you are an outsider and a internal cog worker?"

"They don't know I am a cog." She shurgs, "In this universe, the ranking of cognitive aspect of the space time fabric is just a true title god thing. Why would a lowly human with a criminal soul be any worth to the greater machinations?"

"You at least attempted to write mail to these true titles in hope of better chances?" She tossed the rag over to her child of another universe. She maybe the same age and height but her body language to comfort and love. She towered him in a soft warm hug and head pat. It meant to the being, she already did try. She will have tried doing it in the state she is. The visitor couldn't do anything more either. He knows that the undertaker will have forgotten his past when he was recycled as a prefect soul into this universe system.

"Hey Mom, did Curiosity ever ask you about the god of omens?" She makes that knowing expression and it should have been all that was needed in reply.

"I over rank Taz. But I respect a god who sees the same love I do for Curiosity. His one if the fewer people I take high heed with. Omens knows me plenty, seen all my sides. He seen all of Curiosity's too. My bond with them transcends the normal levels. But." She picked up the Cleaver again, "Even such fate has limits. The frail thread has long snapped. No even a spider silk strand remained as he was turned back to this universe. I am to be his last soul as an Ender, its all I can beg for. To be there as the last." She chopping away more corpses, plenty to butcher up and hang. She was going for longer wedges of meat strips. Less veins to pick out.

The visitor takes a seat watching her at work, lost into his little world of thoughts. Surprised that she doesn't feel hurt by Curiosity's alliance to another god. She being difficult to read expression, as she was pulled hard focus with properly cleaning and storing this valued product. She makes a few mistakes but the longer at it, the more her old skill mastery is coming back to her. The very talent she soul buried. When she was at carving the bones into reusable chucks later, importantly the skulls being properly handled with care. The panel of sigil for this universe flashed up with a blacked out skill turned red, she had mastery over a forbidden art. She was set to the highest ranker of this skill in the universe, beating several heretical gods and those whose job was to torture souls in hell. She surpassed the soul who is the embodiment of soul removal from corpses. Setting her above a true title god on the universal concept ranking. She takes pause in looking about this information, as now some bunch of other skills and traits had verified status. She watched as a new system prompt offered 'evolution'. She smacked the panel aside for such nonsense. Gets a finish on these skulls. Spooning eyes into a salt seal olive jar. The brains into a clay pot. Plenty of jars for the organs. Even organs that weren't for things of internal universe logic has a sealing jar. Labeled of her own language.

"Aren't you going to wake up now?" She heard. She wipes the cleaver to a final polish. Her other bodies putting these jars correctly away. She pulled up her ledger of the newest update of item up keep. She reads through, marked pencil through any corrections.

"Reminds me why I can't take this soul out of this body." Some death god frowns over her, "It's not that she's immortal. But it be no different to how any god dies."

"Which isn't dying at all." Snappy for whoever that is. She at least finished as she needed now. Ledger put away and cast a doorway to form. She has set this place to be a sort of shopping area in her shadow. This door allows visitors here. The door has limitations as she does, but it works fine. She stands menacing in maybe polishing a few to many sharp objects. Stating at the invited doorway. There wasn't many folks stupid enough to walk through but she still needs to be careful.

"Can I have a cube of core universe?" Her beloved visitor finally speaking up from the bubble of wary beyond the gate of darkness.

"No." She replies simple, "You can have a flake to restart any embers but you must never force a universe to run. There is limitations of material resources and soul energy that prevents a clear burning of creations flame. You don't really want to slay the creature clean up from improper creation flame burn outs." Her son nods impressed of how she retained such nesh knowledge of things.

"Can I have penny worth?" She shook at this, "Tough bargain you are. What about a broken torn up book of lost names in exchange?" She tilts considered it but shook, "Seriously?"

"I want a rip of your cloth, then you can have this one." She held a pencil shape amount. He stood and easily took the offer. A strip of his clothing for the small wand of crystal. He grins and left in spray of black sand. She swept it all to the corner where more is piled loosely there.

"A bunch of nannies." The first to enter and land on her deal desk is the Lord omens. Sports the iconic three eyes black hawk of fake beak and irregularities about his so called wings. Most of those aren't feathers but finger like scales that bend wrong. She breaks out a lost sycthe that she been meaning to sharpen for a while. Since now she has the time, she spends it to professionally clean, striaghtes and sharpen it. The lower jaw of Omens was put back, locked shut as sparks of the grinder act over the large blade.

"Lady of the forbidden tomes, your not who I was expecting to find here." He speaks the god tongue. She doesn't even look his way or bother a reply. He tilts and danced nervous, he takes his time to get over his nerve. Even then, someone entered following the lack of omens swift return. They step only enough to look at her and back out of the gateway.

"I will have the head of this monster for sure!" The spirit form of what lesser clothus call a incomplete feral. She only needs a side eye as the man is stuck in fear from onward motion. She softly keeps song with the scythe in hand, her care to respect the soul cast into the metal to the blade itself. She checked over her handy work once satisfied. It floats, suspended to the air. Letting it free to stay put as she moved to her deal desk. She sits on her little stool made of spare unknown things. The mass table is wood of ydrasil. A small potted flower suddenly blooms a fugi blue light, awakened to her soul presence. She gentle petting the plant in a warm smile.

"Miss Eliza. I request to remove you soul from your mortal corpse." She looked blank towards the death god.

"You have the permission to do that?" She squared him in his own language, "Did the god boss above you say you can?" The fedora is pat downward in hiding his face, "Leave Steven. I don't have wasted sand to spend on more nonsense. If you think that his Lord would allowed you to do such thing, he would have came here to tell me himself." The death god bows in confusion for why he had to even respect a human like her. But his insight into her soul was sending some bad things in his chest. He isn't use to be soul read back.

"Oi, don't be rude to death." Omens hissed at her.

"His a demi god of only level 9. His not the concept title." She flaps her left hand, "Just as your only in the 50's ranking of entitled mircale divine blessing. Your lucky to make it in the level 2." The broke face to make that expression was horrific. He folds his wing over in trying to get his brain back. She back to petting the little blue glow bloom. Little other blooming moss breathed to spread every surface she touches upon the wood. A red flower lifted high and upon opening released a monarch butterfly. It flies around lost in this shadow darkness. It soon tired and landed on her head. It turned into a glass figurine. It was amusing to see a broken clothus loose his mind. He crumpled up each step to her, the attempt to lift a weapon or hand failed. He was loosing all sense of colour, black and sooty smokey shape. He barely made a touch to the wood table, and was propelled in a shot of speed out the dark door. The sound of a man being plastered into a hospital wall echoed. She softly has a closer look of the glass butterfly, smiling to only herself.

"What are you doing having a mortal existence anyway?" Lord omen let the question fall out of his lips. She ignored him of the stupid questions. She sets the butterfly back on the blooms. Taking her arms away, it all became decayed and dried up. Sooty ash. She stands stretched and then picked up the Lord omens. As if she did so normally, tucked him safe under her hold. She walked them through the gate.

"What is wrong with you?" The headmaster hissed in being glad she awake. Not a hospital bed but the nurse office. There was undertakers here police man handling the Mr Seer. The energy of rage lost in what seems only a moment. She lets the Lord omens free, and he flies to land on Curiosity. She sits up herself in no aid. She shuffled up in one sooch.

"Did you hire me for something?" She speaks her natural human voice and care a pretend act of concern.

"Now that's just playing me. I am out of here." The headmaster went to stand but he sits down again, "Do you still hunt soul eaters on the same base contract? Remove it and I give you a teacher place."

"Something of a sort." She plays quiet a childish grin.

"Can I instead send you to England to teach people your death order ranking skills?" She frowns at this but does consider it.

"Depends on the ranks of the students under me." She shurgs in genuine concern, "The laws of soul have strange filters. I am not allowed to teach soul classification. But you need a depth of such thing to understand to level of study I would put under." She pats her tights, "It be like trying teaching a god eater to act human."

"Would you teach gods to act human?"

"That's insulting to those gods to even assume they can't. You do realise they were human at least once. Although I get what you mean. The higher up the tree the logic of reasonable disappears." The headmaster posed a figure in this needing to be taken pause a moment. He the pointed at some direction.

"I am not from here." The lost numb skull shurgs.

"Mmm. Yes. The unqualified stench of a drunk that lost his way through darkness." She darkly muttered under breath. She fixed up a fast smiled veil and makes it to the bed edge. She went to stand up. She had a double take of for why she can see herself still laying down. She stares in how she breathing still, but paralysed. The struggle of each draw. Yes, she looked sad at herself. She takes a look at a calendar, the date makes sense. Once she had accepted things as will be. She stood as she knew now isn't a human shape.

"Just how many are you again?" She focused at this lost god and more so in looking at his many souls and those creatures attached to him. She nods plenty in replying to the nattering of the beings souls, "Very lovely sad story, Gareth. Its time to send you back to the universe you are made from. You're to advance of artifactal future existence to even be here. Off you pop through this curtain of nightmare and past the god eaters you somehow avoided dying from." She pushed them into a torn rift of broken reality. She nods very fast at them, "Good to know you have a fear of human crisis. Goodbye robot man." The rift tangled back together as her hands drew back here to as she belongs, "Just wait another four god calenders and maybe we have a cross over event again." She shurgs carelessly, "I should put a bell or some sort of metal clicker on him. Let the god eater devour it."

Omens suddenly hissed. He was talking to fast and she wasn't listening. Whatever the fear and panic it was to anyone else. She takes a deep breath and smile that direction. Posed hand in stating no soul transactions are legal binding. She dares not listen into the voices of this next appearing soul.

"Have a book." The paper was mouldy of a city of flat caps but at the slightest touch of her hands. As if put into vacuum sealed oven, the pages dried out. She brushed away the remaining dust that was once the unknown fungi bacteria growths. She doesn't look to read only dance the tips of finger gentle across the remains of what been written soul names. Particularly, she was on the authors page cleaning away not writing off the soul name here. In doing so, the very melted looking corpse before them changed as a human with scars. He looked like a nice guy if not for some sort of hole where his stomach was. Pale grey skin that be mistake for a damned or undertaker clay. She makes some other vague checks, not that she had enough language study to properly fix any of these names. She does as she could for at least this much can take this poor guy far enough. She closed it with gentle surface taps, praising the paper and ink quality. The guy gives a pleasant warm smile back, nodding even. He bows to her. She posed in asking if he wants it back. He shook. She softly nods to this and brought her own book out. She gladly attached in the whole thing as it was, cover including. She lets the pages decode themselves, the souls to share concept. She puts the whole thing back to wherever its hidden. The unknown figure of a wounded man, he seems to heard something and went that direction. She smiles in being glad he could latch to something so soon. She looked down at her own fabric limbs, not even hands or arms. She looked back to her sleeping body at the school infirmary, standing back over herself. Perched at her bed side, looking at how sickly she has always ignored of herself. This isn't dying or death. But it might as well be. Trapped but not stable of a soul enough to be cut from this shell.

"The wonders of whole universe can be answered some nobody. Ridiculous! This as to be some trick. Some prank. Some joke." The lady goddess of life and virtue isn't as please talker then she seems in myth. Just like how there is many death gods in some sort of scale. Gods of life also have a scaling system, backwards from death. You count up your years in life and count down the days to death. This goddess it up there but no higher then that mafia death god. She for once was the once who been cheated, and not death. There isn't a blessing of good health to give upon this one.