Deathly Remnant

Undead

The Concept looks at me, and this time, I didn't explode. Or drown. Or choke. 

Death looks down on me, and finally reveals its purpose.

<In a destroyed Random Village, hours after the final Huntsmen left>

Torn pieces of flesh begin squirming together, corpses begin writhing as the most optimal parts are torn out from the cadavers.

A pulsating bloody womb of sorts was forming. Finally, it gained enough material to complete itself. In a grotesque imitation of natural beauty, the egg bloomed  like a flower. 

The creature inside staggers out, unused to it's current form. As one might have guessed,  the creature was I. 

I jerkily moved my new arms. This feeling was weird. I had always been used to nerves doing all the work for me. Now, it was like I had to act as a puppeteer for every cell, guiding it manually.

I guided my Deadpool looking head to grow hair, before growing skin. I reshaped my body bit by bit, the enormous mental strain going ignored by me (after Death's Ordeal, everything else was easy mode). 

My arms merged from six to two, and the prehensile tail that I was certain once belonged to a Grimm, flowed into my spine. I made my intestines grow into my arms (Trust me okay, I'm cooking), and created double joints at my knees. 

Muscles stretched and tore, bones shattered, multitudes of organs (mine and others) ruptured, but I felt none of it. 

Finally, I was finished with my remodelling after adding some touches here and there. Leather grew over my body in a simple cloak. Not that it was needed, I possessed no genitalia (Though I had some stored inside me for....extreme cases), nor did I mind the cold (I didn't feel anything). 

I pulled on my Fate of "Infantile Death" as a signal to the big guy. Space tore open, three dimensions and one temporal dimension rent with ease as two sickles with long shafts dropped through the hole in the membrane of reality.

I picked them up, instantly feeling more.....Dead. My intestines emerged from my palms, and wrapped themselves around the hilts.

My job here? To kill those who had refused Death till now.

 Ozpin and Salem, unfortunately, your little game will have to end.

"Their false Gods cannot hide this Remnant world anymore."

Death always gets what it's owed. "Always."

With a swing of the sickles against each others, green sparks erupt, before turning into sickly green flames that enveloped me. I disappeared from the Land of the Living.