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  Waking up in another world was a strange experience for L—no, Lawliet, known by so few people. It wasn't the first time he'd found himself in a situation that defied logic, but this was beyond anything he'd entered. The subtle hum of unfamiliar energy in the air, the eerie quiet that seemed to press in on all sides, and the strange sense of awarehat he was no longer in the world he onew were all uling. Yet, as always, his mind remained sharp, quickly analyzing the details of his new enviro.

  When Lawliet first appeared in this unfamiliar world, he was immediately greeted by a group of individuals who called themselves criminals. They were led by a young man named Nero. Despite the ominous bel, Lawliet's sharp mind quickly hat they didn't fit the typical mold of criminals. He had dealt with true criminals before, and these people... they didn't exude the cold calcution or the desperate edge he'd e to expect from those who lived on the wrong side of the w. Instead, there was a strange camaraderie and an unspoken purpose that seemed to bind them together. It uzzle, and Lawliet loved puzzles.

  Nero was the first to catch Lawliet’s attention. He was tall, posed, and carried himself with the quiet fidence of someone aced to leadership. His golden eyes were intense, but there was a warmth ihat tradicted his sharp, tailored appearance. Lawliet observed the way Nero ied with the others—casual, almost pyful at times, but with an underlying authority that none of them questioned. It was clear that Nero was more than just a figurehead. He had a genuine e with his people, a bond that went beyond the superficial loyalty often found in criminal anizations.

  But what truly intrigued Lawliet was the way Nero’s mind worked. He didn't o engage in small talk or p; he simply analyzed. Every move Nero made seemed deliberate, calcuted. Yet, uhe masterminds Lawliet had entered in the past, Nero’s as weren’t purely self-serving. There was a sense of purpose that Lawliet couldn’t quite pce. It was almost as if Nero ying a much rger game, one where the stakes weren’t just his own survival or power but something greater.

  Lawliet’s gaze settled on Maria, the woman who seemed to be at the heart of this group’s dynamic. She was different from the others in a way that wasn’t immediately obvious. While the rest exuded either power, intellect, or charisma, Maria had an aura of calm creativity, a quiet strength that trasted with the more forceful personalities around her. Lawliet observed the way she ied with Nero, noting the subtle exges between them—a soft gnce here, a geouch there. It was clear that their e ran deep, far beyond mere partnership.

  Maria was an artist, that much was evident in the way she viewed the world. Lawliet could see it in her eyes—stantly taking in the surroundings, mentally transf what she saw into something more beautiful or meaningful. There th to her, a well of emotions that she kept mostly hidden, but occasionally surfaced in her expressions. She didn’t o be the loudest or most dominant voi the room; her presence was felt in quieter ways, through the influence she had on Nero and the others.

  What intrigued Lawliet the most was how Maria seemed to be the bang for this group. Where Nero was all sharp edges and strategic prearia softehose edges, providing a terbahat kept him grounded. Lawliet noticed how the others deferred to her in subtle ways, not out of fear or respect for authority, but because they genuinely valued her opinion. It was rare to see such a dynami a group like this—where the emotional core was just as important as the strategie.

  Beside Nero stood Anthony, a man who looked every bit the bodyguard. Broad-shouldered, with a quiet iy that suggested he was always ready t into a. But Lawliet’s gaze lingered on Anthony for lohan usual. Despite his imposing presehere was a softness in Anthony's eyes, an ued depth. Lawliet noticed how Anthony’s fingers would occasionally twitch, as if he were itg to jot something dooet, perhaps? The thought amused him. Anthony was clearly a man of trasts—a fighter with the soul of an artist. Lawliet wondered how someone like him ended up here, serving as a protector in a world that likely demanded brutality.

  Then there was Sofia. She ractically glued to her phone, her fingers flying across the s with the ease of someone who lived and breathed teology. Lawliet observed her for a while, notig the slight smirk that tugged at her lips whenever she uncovered something iing. But beh that tech-savvy exterior, Lawliet saw a different kind of intelligene that wasn’t limited to ss and codes. She erceptive, keenly aware of the people arouhe way she gnced up every now and then, reading the room, trag every subtle shift in mood... Sofia wasn’t just good with teology; she was good with people. It was a useful skill, especially for someone in their line of work. Lawliet found himself w how much of their operations relied on her ability to read both data and human nature.

  Diego was the o catch Lawliet’s eye, and it wasn’t hard to see why. He had a charisma that was impossible to ignore, a magic presehat drew people in effortlessly. Diego was charming, yes, but there was something more to him. Lawliet he way Diego would occasionally g his own refle—cheg, adjusting, perfeg. It wasn’t vanity, though. It was trol. Diego used his appearand charm as tools, crafting an image that made people see exactly what he wahem to see. Lawliet couldn’t help but admire the skill behind it. Diego knew how to navigate social ndscapes with the same precision that he applied to solving cases. But beh that polished exterior, Lawliet sensed a hint of vulnerability, as if Diego’s charm was as much a shield as it was a on.

  Then there was Donald. At first gnce, he seemed the most out of p this group of so-called criminals. He was quieter thahers, his eyes often downcast, as if deep in thought. But Lawliet noticed how the others listeo him when the versation shifted to him. Donald had a quiet authority, ohat didn’t o be vocalized. He was a thinker, much like Lawliet himself, but where Lawliet's thoughts often tury aion, Donald's seemed to revolve around care—how to mend, how to heal. There was a softo him, a passion that didn’t quite fit with the harsh world they all seemed to inhabit. Lawliet suspected that, much like himself, Donald was someone who valued life in a world that often seemed to disregard it.

  And then there was he butler. Lawliet found Nigel fasating, not just because of his role in Nero’s life, but because of the way he carried himself. There was a sense of old-world elegance about Nigel, a refihat trasted sharply with the rawness of their surroundings. He was a man of discipline, and Lawliet could tell that his mind was as sharp as his appearance. But there was also a warmth in Nigel’s demeanor, a quiet nurturing presehat Lawliet found almost... fatherly. Nigel wasn’t just a servant; he was a guide, a mentor. The way he watched over Nero and the others was telling—Nigel was someone who had seen a great deal in his life, and it had shaped him into a man who valued loyalty and duty above all else. Lawliet wondered what kind of life Nigel had led before this, what experiences had fed him into the man who now stood so resolutely by Nero’s side.

  As Lawliet tio observe them, he couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of respect. These people, criminals though they may cim to be, were far more plex than they appeared. They had yers, motivations that ran deeper than greed or power. And as much as Lawliet tried to distance himself from emotioas, he found himself intrigued by them. They were a puzzle, ohat he was eager to solve.

  Despite the peculiarities of his previous world—one where death gods were real and notebooks could kill with a mere his new reality was airely differe. Lawliet had alrided himself on his sharp intelled his ability to stay a step ahead, no matter how plex the situation. But this world... it was unlike anything he had ever entered.

  He had an i uanding of this pce from the moment he was summoned by Nero. It was a strange feeling, like flipping through the pages of a book he'd never read but somehow knew by heart. His brain quickly processed the cepts of superpowers, mutations, gods, and eveies beyond those. Yet, the deeper implications of these revetions didn’t fully hit him until Nero handed him an ability of his own—Invisibility. That’s when it dawned on him: this wasn’t just a different world, it was a game pyed on a scale far beyond what he was used to.

  As Lawliet tested his newfound ability, he marveled at the precision with which he could manipute it. He could vanish entirely, not even a shimmer betraying his presence. But it wasn’t just the power itself that intrigued him; it was the potential. Invisibility was a tool, ohat could be used in a multitude of ways—covert observation, infiltration, escape. Yet, he knew better than to rely on it too heavily. In his experiehe greatest strength often y not in the ability itself, but in how it was used. It was a chess piece, and he was already sidering the various moves he could make with it.

  But the greatest shock wasn't any of that, nor even the eerie sense of familiarity with this strange world. No, the real shock was the person who was summoned alongside him—Yagami Light.

  Lawliet could still remember the cold touch of death at Light's hands. The calcuted precision, the unfling resolve. Now, standing mere feet away from his killer, Lawliet’s mind raced, processing the situation with lightning speed. The st time he had faced Light, it had cost him everything. A, here they were, side by side, in a world that defied all logid reason.

  His sharp eyes flicked toward Light, noting every miail. The young man looked just as he remembered—calm, posed, and dangerously fident. Light had always been a master of masks, presenting whatever face the situation required. But Lawliet had spent too much time unraveling the yers beh that mask. He knew what lurked behind those seemingly i eyes. Ambition. Ruthlessness. And most of all, the insatiable o be the god of a new world.

  Light caught his gaze, and for a split sed, their eyes locked. It was as if time froze around them, the air between them crag with unspoken tension. Lawliet’s mind raced, analyzing every possible oute of this reunion. Did Light remember? Was he aware of the past they shared in their previous world? Or was he as much a pawn in this new game as Lawliet felt?

  The answer came swiftly, in the way Light’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Yes, he remembered. There was no mistaking the reition in that sharp gaze. Lawliet could see the calcutions pying out behind those eyes, the wheels turning as Light assessed his new enviro and the people around him. It was the same look Light had when he orchestrated his masterful manipution of the Kira iigatiohodical, precise, and utterly without remorse.

  But this wasn’t the same game, and Lawliet k. The rules had ged, the stakes were higher, and the pieces on the board were far more plex. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that Light was already strategizing, already plotting his move. It was what Light did best, after all—turning every situation to his advantage, bending the world to his will.

  What gave Lawliet a vindictive satisfa was the realization of the bond he felt towards Nero—a bond he uood was not of his own making, but something deeper, an instinctive loyalty that had settled in the moment he was summohis e was unbreakable, a fact that piqued his ever-active mind. If he, with his fiercely indepe nature, was bound in such a way, then surely Yagami Light—Light, the self-procimed god in his past life—was uhe same pulsion. The thought nearly made him chuckle. Light could scheme and manipute all he wanted, but in this new reality, he was no more than a follower. A pawn, not a king.

  Lawliet didn’t allow himself to dwell too long on the irony. His mind was already rag, calg the implications of this forced loyalty. Light was the ultimate strategist, but here, his ambition would be fined. He could no longer py the role of Kira, the god of a new world. And that, Lawliet realized, could be both a blessing and a curse. Light's brilliance would be an asset if guided correctly, but if not... Lawliet didn’t o imagihe potential danger. He had lived it.

  The idea that he and Light were now on the same team g Lawliet, a bitter irony that refused to settle in his mind. They had once been partners of sorts, two brilliant minds engaged in an intricate dance of deception and truth. That time had been both exhirating and deeply uling for Lawliet—w with someone who matched his intellect, someone who could challenge him at every turn. But the thrill of that partnership had ended irayal, ih. He couldn’t fet that. Yet now, they were forced into an alliance, bound by circumstances beyond their trol.

  The memories of those earlier days with Light surfaced unbidden, sharp as gss. Lawliet remembered their versations, the way they would subtly test each other, each word a calcuted move on a chessboard only they could see. He had e, if he were ho with himself. The intellectual stimution, the rare e that had been fed between them, however fleeting. But all of it had been underpinned by suspi. Lawliet had known, evehat there was darkness within Light—a cold, calg ruthlesshat would eventually e everything in its path. He had seen it ing, but even he hadn’t anticipated just how far Light would go. That miscalcution had cost him his life.

  And now, here they were, both of them resurrected in a world where logic was bent ay twisted into something unreizable. The rules had ged, but Lawliet’s instincts remaihe same. Trust no one except Nero. Least of all Yagami Light.

  ---

  Waking up in another world wasn’t what shocked Light Yagami. His mind, razor-sharp and ever-calg, adapted quickly. New surroundings, new rules—nothing he couldn't hahe unfamiliar hum of energy in the air, the subtle shifts iy, and the undeniable fact that he was no longer in the world he once sought to domihese things registered, but they didn’t unnerve him. Instead, they intrigued him.

  Light's first thought was trol. Information ower, and Light craved both. He immediately began to assess the situation with the same cold logic that had made him so formidable in his previous life. He sed his surroundings, taking in every detail: the architecture, the teology, the people. Everything was new, yet it all fell into pce like pieces of a puzzle.

  The group he found himself with wasn’t ordinary. They called themselves criminals, but that bel didn’t sit right with Light. These weren’t the desperate or power-hungry individuals he’d maniputed so effortlessly as Kira. No, they were anized, methodical, and, most surprisingly, driven by something else…

  The title felt hollow to Light, who had spent years maniputing and bending the wills of actual criminals to his own ends as Kira. These people, however, didn’t fit the profile of true criminals—they cked the desperate greed, the ruthless ambition, the palpable fear that Light had e to expect. Instead, they carried themselves with a sense of purpose that felt strangely altruistic, a far cry from the corrupt, self-serving individuals Light was aced to trolling. It didn't take long for him the truth: they were good people, masquerading uhe guise of criminals, likely to achieve some greater good. The irony wasn’t lost on him. He was fairly certain that if he still had his Death Note, he wouldn’t write down their names.

  Nero, their leader, stood at the forefront. Light's gaze sharpened as he took in the sight of him—tall, posed, with an air of authority that wasn’t forced but natural. Nero was no ordinary leader, Light could tell. The way he ied with the others, the ease with which he anded respect, it all spoke of a deeper power. Yet, there was no overt dispy of cruelty, o assert domihrough fear. It intrigued Light. A leader who anded not by force, but by genuine loyalty? That was rare. And in Light's experience, such loyalty oed when the leader was either truly exceptional—or had everyohhly maniputed.

  Light’s mind immediately began to disseero’s methods. He could see the subtle gnero exged with the others, the unspoken uandiweehis wasn’t a typical gang or syndicate where hierarchy was maintaihrough threats. No, this was something different. Nero ying a deeper game, ohat required more than just brute force. Light khat game well—it was the game of influehe careful bang act of poerception. It was the kind of game he excelled at.

  Light's gaze drifted over to Maria, and immediately, he reized something different about her. She wasn’t like the others, whose roles and talents he had already begun to dissect. There was an air about her that set her apart, something more elusive and harder to quantify. She wasn’t leading like Nero, nor was she operating from the shadows like Sofia. Yet, there was no denying the influence she wielded within the group. It intrigued him.

  At first gnce, Maria seemed unassuming, almost quiet in her demeanor. She didn’t demand attention the way Diego did, nor did she exude the physical presence of someone like Anthony. But Light could sehat this was by design. She was deliberate, carefully positioning herself as someone eared non-threatening. It was a strategy Light himself had employed tless times—a calcuted uimation, illusion. He khe power of being overlooked, and he could tell that Maria k too.

  Beside Nero stood Anthony, the enforcer. At first gnce, he seemed to be nothing more than a typical bodyguard—strong, silent, always ready for a. But Light's eyes caught the small details that others might miss. The way Anthony's gaze lingered on things lohan necessary, as if he were seeing more than just the physical world around him. And those fingers—stantly fidgeting, as if yearning to put thoughts to paper. A poet disguised as a warrior? Light smirked at the thought. Anthony’s strength was undeniable, but it was the quiet intelligehat Light found more iing. If he could be swayed, Anthony could bee a powerful ally—and if not, a dangerous enemy.

  Then there was Sofia, whose fingers danced across her phone like a virtuoso at the piano. Tech-savvy, clearly, but Light saw more than just a girl immersed in gadgets. She erceptive, always watg, always trag the ebb and flow of the room’s energy. He reized her type immediately—a woman who used her intelleot just to manipute data, but people as well. She was sharp, undoubtedly valuable, but Light wondered just how loyal she was. The truly intelligent ones, after all, were the most uable. If push came to shove, would she remain loyal to Nero, or would she pivot towards whoever could offer her more? Light would have to keep an eye on her. She might be useful in the right hands.

  Diego was harder to pin down at first. His charm was obvious, almost too obvious. Light had known many like him—smooth talkers, maniputors who used their looks and wit to get what they wanted. But Diego wasn’t just all surface-level charm. Light could see the careful calcution behind every gesture, every smile. Diego kly what effect he had on people, and he wielded it like a finely honed bde. But charm alone wasn’t enough to impress Light. He was more ied in the trol Diego seemed to have over his own image. Light could respect that. After all, he had spent years crafting his own persona, maniputing how others saw him.

  Donald, oher hand, was an enigma. Quiet, introspective, almost too unassuming for someone in their line of work. But Light knew better than to uimate anyone based on appearance alone. Donald exuded a quiet fidence, a certainty that came from knowledge rather than power. He reminded Light of L during their early days at uy—drivehodical, always thinkieps ahead. Donald didn’t o boast or make his presenown; his authority came from within, and the others respected it. Light khat men like Donald were often the most dangerous—they held the kind of knowledge that could dismaire empires, often without lifting a finger. If Donald could be trolled, if his intelligence could be harnessed... Light saw potential.

  he butler, was a different kind of puzzle. He carried himself with the grad discipline of a man who had seen it all. Light found Nigel’s demeanor fasating—the way he blended into the backgrou atention when here was a certain elegan Nigel’s every movement, a precision that suggested a mind as sharp as any bde. But what intrigued Light most was Nigel's loyalty. It wasn’t the blind, uioning kind that came from fear or obligation. No, Nigel’s loyalty was deliberate, calcuted. He chose to stand by Nero, and that choice carried weight. Light wondered what kind of leverage Nero held over someone like Nigel. Whatever it was, it had to be signifit.

  As Light observed the group, his mind was already f pns. These people were more than they appeared, and while they called themselves criminals, Light saw through the fa?ade. They were using the criminal identity as a shield, a cover for something else. Perhaps even something hough Light had little patience for suotions. He uood power, and he uood the value of influence.

  Despite the peculiarities of his own world—one where death gods were real and notebooks could kill with a mere his new reality was airely differe. Light Yagami had alrided himself on his sharp intelled ability to stay a step ahead, no matter how plex the situation. But here, logit in strange ways, the air hummed with unfamiliar energy, and the existence of gods aies beyond prehension was a reality, not just theory. Yet, Light adapted quickly. He always did.

  The moment he arrived, Light’s mind began to process everything at lightning speed. It wasn't the first time he'd found himself in a situation that defied expnation, and he doubted it would be the st. However, what intrigued him wasn't the strangeness of this new world, but the new pieces it offered for his game.

  Nero had handed him Pyrokinesis, a power that allowed him to create and trol fire. As Light tested it—flig his fio ignite small fmes, extinguishing them with a mere thought—he felt a surge of exhiration. Power, pure and tangible, rested at his fiips. Yet, he knew better than to rely solely on this gift. His true strength had always been his mind, and he was already sidering how to use this new ability in more subtle, strategic ways. Fire... fire could reshape worlds.

  But the greatest shock wasn’t any of those realizations, but the presence of the person summoned alongside him. L. The man Light had once sidered his equal, his rival, the person he respected most... and the one he orchestrated the demise of with his own hands. Though it wasn’t him who delivered the final blow, Light had crafted the sario, maniputing every pie the board until L fell. Yet here they were, standing in the same room, alive in a new world.

  Light’s mind whirred into overdrive, processing the implications at breakneck speed. The situation was far from ideal, but it was also fasating. A new game had begun, and L was once again a pyer. The thought ignited a spark of excitement in Light’s chest, tempered by the awarehat this time, the rules were different.

  He g L from the er of his eye, careful not to let his expressioray the turmoil beh. L looked much the same—disheveled hair, pale skin, those dark circles under his eyes that hi sleepless nights spent unraveling the most plex of puzzles. Yet, there was something different, something Light couldn’t quite pce. Perhaps it was the fact that L, too, was aware of their past. There was no mistaking the reition in those sharp eyes.

  For a moment, their gazes met, and it felt as though the world around them had frozen. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, as if both were waiting for the other to make the first move. Light’s mind raced through tless sarios, calg possibilities, assessing risks. What would L do in this new world? Would he seek revery to expose Light’s true nature once again? Or was he just as strained by this strange reality as Light was?

  No, L wouldn’t act recklessly. He never did. That much, Light was sure of. But the possibility of L w against him—subtly, quietly—was a threat Light couldn’t ignore. He had to stay ahead, keep L in check while simultaneously leveraging his abilities. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. After all, L had always been the one man who could challenge him intellectually, and now, they were both forced to navigate a world that defied all logic.

  Light’s lips curled into a faint smile as he turned his attention back to the group. If there was ohing he excelled at, it ying the long game. He didn’t o front L directly, not yet. There were other ways to maintain trol, to keep L from gaining the upper hand. And if Light had learned anything from his time as Kira, it was that patience could be just as deadly as any on.

  What bothered Light most though, wasn’t the unfamiliar world, the powers he’d been granted, or even the presence of L. It was the e he felt with he inexplicable bond that tethered him to this man from the moment he was summoned. Light had alrided himself on his independence, his ability to trol every aspect of his life. Yet here, in this strange new reality, he found himself bound by a loyalty he didn’t choose.

  He didn’t show it, of course. His face remained impassive, his thoughts carefully cealed behind the mask he’d perfected over the years. But inside, Light’s mind was rag. This bond with Nero—it was unnatural, a pulsion that grated against his very nature. Why should he, the oio rule, be subservient to anyone, even in the slightest? It didn’t make sense, and that’s what unnerved him the most.

  He watched Nero closely, assessing every word, every gesture. The man was clearly a leader, that much was evident. But what kind of leader? Light had entered many in his time—those who ruled through fear, through charisma, through sheer force of will. Nero, though, was different. He anded respect, yes, but there was something else, something that Light couldn’t quite pce. It was as if Nero’s very presence demanded loyalty, not through any overt manipution, but through an intrinsic force that Light could her see nor fully uand.

  This was troubling. Light wasn’t aced to being in the dark, especially about something as critical as the nature of his own mind. The bond he felt, this strange, pulsive loyalty—it g him, a stant irritation that he couldn’t simply dismiss. Even more uling was the thought that this bond wasirely one-sided. Could Nero feel it too? Was he aware of the strings that ected them, the invisible threads that tied Light’s fate to his?

  Light’s thoughts drifted to L, who stood just a few feet away, quietly the group with those sharp, calg eyes. Did L feel the same e? Was he, too, bound by this unseen force, or was it different for him? The thought made Light uneasy. L had always been his equal, his greatest challenge, but in this new world, the rules were different. If L was bound by the same loyalty, would that make him less dangerous, or more?

  Light’s eyes narrowed slightly as he sidered the possibilities. The bond with Nero could be a double-edged sword. On one hand, it offered prote, a p a powerful group with resources and influence. But oher hand, it was a , ohat restricted his autonomy. And Light Yagami did not like being ed.

  He stole an Nero, careful to keep his expressioral. The man was talking with Maria now, his voice low and calm, a small smile pying at the ers of his mouth. It was an easy smile, genuine even, and Light found that uling. True leaders, in his experience, rarely showed such casual warmth, especially not around subordinates. Yet Nero did, and the others responded in kind. It wasn’t fear that motivated them, nor was it blind loyalty. It was something deeper, more plex.

  But that also meant from now on, he and L were on the same team, panions. The idea intrigued Light in a way he hadn't anticipated. It was almost amusing—L, the man who had relentlessly hunted Kira, now bound to work alongside him. Light could practically feel the irony ing itself around them, cold and sharp like a bde. He wondered what L would think if he fully uood the situation, the inescapable tether that forced them into relut radeship. It almost made him chuckle. Almost.

  He kept his amusement hidden, a flicker of a smile dang at the edges of his lips before vanishing into the calm, trolled expression he always wore. L erceptive; Light couldn't afford to let anything slip. Besides, the memories of their colboration during the Kira iigation were still fresh in his mind. Those had been some of the most challenging—and enjoyable—days of his life.

  The thought took him back, unbidden, to the time when his memories as Kira had been sealed. During that brief period, Light had worked with L not out of y, but out of genuine camaraderie. There had been a thrill in their intellectual sparring, a rare e with someone who could match him in wit and ing. Back then, it had almost felt like a game pyed on equal footing, both of them pushing each other to new heights. Ae everything, he had e.

  But that had been a different time, a different Light. The Kira within him had returned, reshaping his goals, hardening his resolve. The Light that L had worked with was gone, buried beh the weight of his godly ambitio now, here they were, faced with a new world and a new dynamic. It made Light wonder if L remembered that brief period of genuine colboration, or if all he could see when he looked at Light was Kira—the man who had orchestrated his downfall.

  --

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