Aura paused, looking slowly up at Kane with a quirked eyebrow. Nobody had made a such a brazen pass at her since she’d died. Come to think of it, it was difficult to remember a time when anyone had made a brazen pass when she’d been alive, either. What Aura’s name, godly status and unsettling stare didn’t take care of, her total lack of allure did. She glanced sideways at Brock, who looked utterly scandalised. Aura made a mental note to ask him later whether dead people still had… libido, if only to see the expression on his face when the question was posed.

She stood, her clothes rippling and shifting back into the Reaper’s garb as her fingers closed over the magic staff, and stepped back to let Kane have his go. Maybe someone more normal-looking, and still in full colour, would be more relatable.

If relatable was what Kane was shooting for, his interpretation was… interesting. Aura stood back and let him work, leaning against her staff and watching with an expression of mild interest. All of the punching and kicking seemed a bit unnecessary, on both sides, but it was nice to not be on the receiving end of it for once. Kane’s tough love approach wasn’t just preventing her from getting another sock in the face; the soldier was gradually exhaling his fight. Once his anger at the situation had ebbed away, and its inevitability sunk in, perhaps he’d be more cooperative. Maybe Kane was the type of person Aura needed to have round for these military types who were inclined to punch first and ask questions later.

“You also turn grey. And you still get spots when you’re dead,” she supplied, rubbing her thumb along her jawline as though expecting her flawless skin to suddenly flare up. “But,” she conceded, “I suppose that happens whether you’re with your loved ones or not.”

Brock shook his head, apparently at a loss for words. There was a moment of silence while the soldier apparently processed this, rolling his tongue around his mouth. A dribble of dark red blood slipped from the corner of his lips when he pulled them apart to take a deep breath. Aura pushed her hood back, watching him hopefully.

It was all to no avail. The soldier used his moment of reprieve to dig his heels into the ground and attempt to flip Kane onto the floor. Aura sighed.

“Fine.” She shrugged. “Have it your way.”

Time may not exist in the Realm Between Realms, but over in the Realm of the Living, thousands of souls were dying for every second she spent trying to save this one. Flexing her fingers, she grasped the scythe firmly between her hands and slashed the air, ripping open a swirling black vortex. Grabbing the soldier by the shoulder, she pulled him backwards through the death portal, which promptly vanished behind her. The grey mist closed over the brief vacuum so that within a split second it looked as though the portal, and the Reaper, had never been there. Brock rubbed his arm and eyed Kane.

“ ‘Pretty’.” He said flatly after a moment, his eyes flicking across Kane’s face as he tried to come up with a suitable scolding.

He didn’t get long to think of one. Aura stepped out of the shadows behind him a moment later, sweeping her hood back and wedging her scythe into the ground. As soon as she let go of it, her floaty blue robes vanished and were replaced with the greyed tank top and shorts she’d first appeared in.

“Dropped him in Zone One,” she said grimly, dusting her hands off. Flecks of faintly glittering grey dust slipped from her fingers and fluttered to the ground. “He can find me from there if he wants to later. So,” she studied Kane, resting her hands lightly on her hips, “thanks. But also, hotness openers?” She scrunched up her nose, her lips twitching into a slight smirk. “No heartbeat, no heat. You might want to adjust your moves for the dead.”