[ IP ] All legends grow pale

A tabby cat rubbed herself against Death ’ s shins. He ran his bony fingers through her fur. Together they stood inside the bedroom of a twelve-year-old boy. The blond boy rummaged through his levitating bookshelf, tossing possession after possession into an extinguisher bin. His mother shouted for him to finish tidying up - lest he misses out on his promised hour in VR. 
 
 Death shifted towards the last book on the shelf, *Mort*. 
 
 sᴏ, ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ғɪɴᴀʟ ᴄᴏᴘʏ. 
 
 The cat turned away and Death spoke again. 
 
 sɪʀ ᴛᴇʀʀʏ, ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ sᴛɪʟʟ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ɪs ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪᴘᴘʟᴇs ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴅɪᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ? 
 
 A long pause. The boy ’ s fingers curl around the cover. *Mort* flies into the bin. Gone. 
 
 ᴀʟʟ ʟᴇɢᴇɴᴅs ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴘᴀʟᴇ.
