The woman, Lady Death herself smiled wider, resting her chin in her palm. "I'm Lady Death, the one who keeps the souls that even gods fear to touch. You can call me Mama, okay~?"
"..."
"..."
"…Excuse me… what?" Askara blinked, his voice trembling between disbelief and politeness. He shook his head quickly, trying to clear the confusion fogging his thoughts. His surroundings, this impossible hall of light and shadow, still felt too real to be a dream. "I mean… if I'm here, doesn't that mean I'm dead?"
Lady Death tilted her head, strands of her shadowlike hair spilling down the throne like liquid night. Her crimson eyes softened with what looked almost like pity.
"No, sweaty~," she purred, voice lilting like a song, "why are you so obsessed with being dead? Are you dissatisfied with your life? Or does your family not treat you well enough?"
