The install took three seconds. When he opened the app, his phone glitched—static fizzled across the screen, and then the camera turned on automatically.

The next morning, the reapers were gone. But the app icon remained: three tiny figures waving from inside his home screen.

Pink Hair stretched. “Relax. We’re cute reapers. We don’t do the whole gloomy-scythe-and-wings thing. We do emotional support harvesting.” She patted his cheek with a tiny palm. “You’ve got twenty-four hours to do one truly reckless, joyful thing. Then we take your soul to the Great Arcade in the sky.”

He stared at his reflection, confused. Then he noticed them.

The froggy one giggled. “Classic reaction. Hi! We’re your personal reapers. I’m Nibbs.” She pointed a scythe at his forehead. “According to our server, your expiration date is… tomorrow. But!” She held up a hand. “We’re on a break. Union rules. So we’re crashing here until the clock runs out.”

The thumbnail showed three chibi figures in oversized hoodies, holding tiny scythes that looked more like plastic toys. “Why not,” Leo muttered, clicking the sketchy link.

Leo dropped his phone.

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