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

"And that is what awaits you after 'death,' my audience! Have a care as to
how you live your life, but know that it is not oblivion that awaits you after
this life!"
"What wash!" Morte cried out aloud.
The speaker's head turned to face Morte, frowning slightly. He leaned out,
trying to see who spoke. "A question? A question from one of the living,
perhaps?"
Morte ducked below the lecturer's field of view, then turned up to me with
a whisper, "Go ahead, chief. Tell him the dark of it."
"Yes, I have a question..." I said, raising my hand.
He indicated for me to continue.
"The Dustmen say that this life is where we end up when we die."
The speaker chuckled derisively... some members of the audience chuckled,
as well. "There are countless petitioners, my friend, Dustmen among them,
who would disagree with Dustman... 'philosophy.'"
"What if someone can't die?"
He laughed. "Nonsense! Everyone dies, friend. Even gods die."
"I can't die," I declared with an innocent shrug.
"Oh, truly! Look, everyone, a rare treat: one of the great immortals has
graced us with his presence! Greetings, O immortal!" The audience laughed.
My eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. For someone who spouted the exotic
wonders of the multiverse, Death's Advocate was a closed-minded idiot, and
I wasn't going to let his half-baked tripe pass, "I can prove it."
"Oh do! Do!" There was more laughter from the audience. "What sport!
Take heed, my audience. I think we shall have a rare display of my lecture
today! Come up here, o immortal, and we shall see who is right and who is
dead!"
666