I woke up to find an eight foot tall man in a rumpled suit staring down at me.

The last thing I remember was falling asleep in Algebra.

The large man bent down, grabbed me by the shoulder and lifted me to my feet.

“Sorry sir,” he said, “some find their first trip overwhelming.”

“Where am I?,” I asked.

“The nexus point between realities.”

“So not Michigan anymore?”

“Decidedly not.”

“Why am I here?”

“To see him,” the large man extended an equally impressive finger and pointed to a white haired figured sitting at a desk.

“Have you been here the whole time?” I asked.

Both men, the large one and the big one, laughed. The old man got up from desk. “Why yes, as a matter of fact I have.”

“This is Time,” the large man said.

“Is that like a nickname?”

He chuckled, “no like the primordial entity. Much like you.”

“Huh?”

He looked at the large man, “You didn’t explain it to him on the way over?”

“He passed out,” the large man replied.

“Ahhh,” Time said, “understandable. Mr. N get the robe would you.”

“Mr. N?” I asked.

“Stands for Necromancer. He communicates with the dead, among his other duties.”

“Like?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Time said.

“You really don’t like giving out information do you?”

“And prattle on about stuff like Knowledge does. No thank you. You’ll figure everything out in good time.”

“Was that a pun?”

He chuckled, “yes I suppose it was.”

The large man, Mr. N presumably, came back carrying a dark robe. I slipped it on over my clothes. The sleeves were a tad long, but it fit otherwise.

“Beats the school uniform I suppose,” I said.

“Also, when you put the hood over your head it will render you invisible,” Mr. N said.

“Very good, I’m glad it fits. Though mending the robe is much easier than fixing War’s armor,” Time said.

“War?” I asked, gently rolling up the sleeves.

“One of the other horseman,” Mr. N said, “cosmic siblings of yours.”

“Oh,” I said, “do I get to meet them?”

“They’re not exactly friendly,” Time said “you’re taking this remarkably well.”

“Anything is better than high school.”

Just then, Mr. N handed me a silver rod about the size of fountain pen.

“Thank you…I think.”

“Twist it,” the giant man said.

I did so, and after a series of whirls and clicks, the rod turned into a grey, metallic scythe. “Very cool,” was all I could muster.

“Now that that’s out of the way. We can make this official. Take this robe and become Death, Fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse, Lord Reaper of Souls, and Final Arbiter of Fate.”

Though I expected more fanfare, those were pretty cool titles, I held the scythe in my hands “I am become Death, destroyer of worlds.”

“Oppenheimer?” Mr. N asked.

“The Bhagavad Gita,” I answered, “you know Oppenheimer?”

“Your predecessor was a big fan of his.”

“Now,” Time said, “there’s no time to lose, you have a busy day ahead of you,” Time said.

That through me off. “What?”

“With the titles come the responsibilities. Souls are piling up on Earth.”

Before I could say anything, Mr. N put his large hand on my shoulder.

“Do try not to pass out this time.”

I watched as time and space started to swirl and we teleported to who knows where.