My past floated through my head. Flying through the air only to parachute my way to cabins. The gunshots... the spells... the quietness... everytime I died to a witch I was put back together again at the lab. I was... regenerated. The lab was invaded by witches and wizards while I was gone. I could no longer respawn and the place was destroyed. I still had a purpose, the very reason I was alive. I wanted revenge. Whenever I was near death all the other past deaths and lives called back to my soul telling it that its purpose has not yet been fulfilled. The other past mes filled my soul and made me overwhelmed with power. The power to say "not yet" to death and to respawn and keep fighting.


You are USELESS
The reason your alive is because you won't accept death
Come on, these guys aint have nothin' on you