Death, angered by the attempt on his existence, swirled around Oswald.

“You can’t kill me! I am immortal!” Death chanted, his voice echoing off the towers around, the bridges below. Several towers fell, destroyed by the massive wall of sound.

Oswald merely stared. He believed Death could die. It would complete a never-ending cycle. He had felt Death’s presence leave him, his weariness vanish. But it was not stopped, merely stalled, and not even that. Inconvenienced.

The wind continued to blow, and another roar rang through the land. Oswald was trying again. The mystical bullet cracked through the air, leaving dents and rips in the air itself, disrupting nature… so desperate was Oswald, last of the resistance, doing anything to claim his rival, enemy, foe.

But Death simply disappeared, whispering behind him as he dissipated in a million different directions at once.

“You can’t stop, for I will always be here.”

And Oswald knew that Death was correct.