The last time Death talked to another spirit that wasn't Amour was during the Second World War.

He was sitting on the fence, paying no mind to the barbed wire digging into him, when he appeared behind him.

"Hello, Bellum," he spoke without looking. The soft chuckle told him he was right in his assumption.

"You do know you are the only one who calls us by our given names, right?" Death shrugged, not saying anything.

War sat down next to him, not seeming to care when the barbed wire cut into his scarred flesh.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush like Amour," he said quietly. "Nor am I going to hurl abuse at you for what you do." Death raised an eyebrow.

"That's a first," he said quietly. War laughed hollowly.

"After all, we go hand in hand, don't we Mortem?" He asked. "You cannot have war without death." The hooded spirit frowned.

"Why are you here?" He asked. "Nobody comes to have a pleasent chat with Death, you must want something." Bellum chuckled.

"As sharp as ever, my friend," he sighed. "There's a plague that's been making it's way around the trenches." Death raised an eyebrow.

"And?" He asked flatly. The spirit of war frowned.

"I won't ask you to make it go away, as that is not your area of expertise, but..." He hesitated. Death exhaled tiredly.

"I'm going to stop you right there," he muttered. "The answer is no." Bellum looked shocked.

"Wha- but you haven't even heard-"

"I don't need to," Death had a look in his eyes- one that spoke volumes about his feelings towards this topic. "That's not how death works. It comes when it's called, when it's needed, and there's no stopping it." War clenched his fists.

"I put up with you a lot, Mortem," he said through gritted teeth. "I put up with so much death- and I have to, I know that, but just for once I'd like to have a war without any bloodshed." Mortem regarded him with lifeless eyes.

"You and I both know that's impossible," he said. "Humanity has evolved to a phase where discord and fear rule." War clenched his fists.

"Then talk to them!" He snapped, finally losing his composure. "You're far older than them, you should be able to-"

"That's not how it works," Death's voice was quiet, calm, composed, yet radiated a seriousness that had the younger spirit stopping in his tracks. "I am not Linea Vitam. I do not control anyone's lifeline. I simply do as I am told, just like everyone else, to ensure nothing falls out of balance." He fixed Bellum with a piercing stare.

"Think on what I have said, Bellum," he said coldly. "Then we'll talk."

The Spirit of War was quiet for a moment, then he spoke up.

"As well spoken as ever, Mortem," he murmured. "It was nice speaking with you." Death nodded.

"Likewise," he said as War dissapeared in a flash of red energy.

(translations:
mortem: death (latin)
bellum: war (latin)
linea vitam: lifeline (latin)