(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

The other incarnation stabbed an accusing finger at the him, "Do not
threaten me, you fool - I warn you. If anyone is the thief, it is you - you
sought to steal our chances to settle this matter by sabotaging all my work!"
"You are the THIEF! You stole my body and my life! And THIEVES will DIE!"
I shook my head, ignoring the argument brewing behind me, "But I have had
countless lives. Why are there only three incarnations here?"
He shook his head calmly, "I do not know. Perhaps we were the three pieces
that were somehow still present in your mind."
"Present? How?"
He had such a gentle manner. Strange to believe it could be so... I'd always
expected all my lives were bathed in blood and pain. "I do not know for
sure," he continued, "but I would guess that when we die, traces of the
former personality may remain in your mind - and I know that sometimes
we may make ourselves felt."
"How?"
"When you are about to place yourself in danger, or were close to a
realization, for example, I found that I could stir, help prod you in the right
direction."
"So you were that crawling sensation I kept feeling in the back of my skull?"
That itch, like ants skittering along my brain, always preceding a memory or
a shadow of one.
"I would be at a loss to describe how it felt to you, but it is possible, yes."
"Do you know why I wanted to become immortal?"
"No, I do not. I think it was done out of fear. Perhaps one of the others
knows, but not I."
I arched an eyebrow. "What makes you think it was done out of fear?"
The man smiled slightly, but there was no humor in it; if anything, it was a
sad smile. "What man wishes to die?" He shook his head slowly. "But only
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