People think they know what that world looks like, or what they’ll look like in that world. They do what they believe they must to guarantee a place in that world for themselves, and try to teach others to do the same. Some don’t expect a world after this one, and find other ways to occupy their time. People leave one another alone about it, or they don’t.

But no matter what people believe, it's rare that they imagine cheating mortality the way their ancestors did. If they believe in anything other than the finality of death, they believe that it comes to us the same way death does, in a crawling marquee. They don’t outsmart or defeat death. They meet it as it comes, and prepare for whatever they believe comes next.

In this universe, reality falls somewhere in the middle. There are ways to claim immortality without dying first—but the Bound don’t concern themselves with those. Death is inevitable. But it's not a freefall into the dark. It’s not the passive reception of an eternal gift.

For the Bound, like Josh, death comes with a choice.

For as long as Sin-Eaters have recorded their own history, their societies have followed the same pattern. Arise in the wake of a massive uptick in deaths, then fade as the tragedy that birthed them does. Some lasted mere decades, others a century or more. Most of these societies were geographically isolated, though that had more to do with fewer travel opportunities for ancient peoples than anything mystical.

Sin-Eater society got its first taste of globalism with the age of colonialism, when Europeans brought disease and slaughter to the rest of the planet, but it wasn’t until World War I and the influenza epidemic that followed it that the Bound really began to see themselves as a worldwide phenomenon. Easy transoceanic communication and travel allowed for Sin-Eaters from New Orleans to New Zealand to exchange ideas and share practices—and just when that wave of Bound might have started to die off, World War II kicked off and started the whole cycle again.

Since World War II, Mourner krewes have noticed a curious thing: That old limit on the Bargain no longer seems to apply. Optimists say that the sheer weight of human population has reached the point that even the normal daily mortality rate across the globe creates enough death resonance to fulfill the Bargain. Pessimists say the Underworld is gaining power and will soon swallow the world of the living just like it swallows the dead. And the cynics just point to the near-constant brushfire wars, police brutality, and hate crimes the world over with a “what did you expect?” shrug.

If you number among the restless dead, welcome to the in-between before the Hereafter. Since you're still finding your legs, here's a tip for you: If you have nowhere else to go, there's always The Exit.

Manned by Jack's Lantern (or his people when he's not around), the bistro-by-day, occasional-club-by-night keeps the lights on and it's doors open for all types. There's always a seat; and someone who's ready to listen with your first drink on the house.

The Dead are welcome to stay as long as they'd like, and for the Living, well; they invested in enough couches for sleeping. Hopefully when you're done, you walk out with a little less baggage to take with you as you pass on.

ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxɪᴛ started out as a simple concept: everyone needs a bartender—yes, even the dead.

While the venture began out of a practical need (a steady cash flow, a top floor to kick back and rest), Josh knew it was only a matter of time before word got around. People talk; ghosts are no different.