Inception
A pale, gaunt, young hand flew across an equally pale keyboard. Another pale, gaunt, young hand brushed the snow-white hair from emotionless, calculating eyes. It immediately returned to stacking tarot cards. A fortress of decks covered the tabletop. Nate River, Near, L, was at work.
It had been a while since Near had taken a new case. Most of the uninteresting cases had been rapes, small amounts of murders, a Ponzi scheme here and there. To Near, this was a hut of mud compared to the elaborate tower that was the Kira Case. The C-Kira Case had, in his mind, been a waste of time and pointless. His worldwide announcement of this thought obviously had effect, as the elderly began to stop dying of premature heart attacks. Near at that time was, in a rare state, downtrodden. He wondered if the "Cheap Kira" could have been stronger of will. Perhaps he would have become formidable. Oh, well . . .
But now, that was going to change. Someone was out there. There was someone else with another Death Note, an impossible Death Note . . . and a plan. A plan that would rock the foundations of the human and Shinigami world, alike. And Near would learn. And Near would learn to be. But first . . .
"Human."
Near stopped typing. His deadpan face didn't even twitch. Slowly, he turned, 95% sue that it was a . . .
"Shinigami."
The god of death was seated on a discarded swivel chair. It resembled a large, brown-gold skeleton. Jewels were embedded in its eyes and body, and elaborate jewelry hung from its neck, wrists, and legs. It had a baritone, sarcastic voice.
Another of these gods, thought Near. I was under the impression I had to touch its Death Note in order for me to see it. Perhaps . . . perhaps it is powerful enough to allow people to see it at will? Or could I have touched its Note without realizing it? How is that possible . . . fragments, even pages of the Death Note can kill others. Could fragments or pages allow the human who touches them to see the owner of the Death Note the paper came from, as well? If so, then why is this Shinigami here? Should it matter to it that paper from its Death Note are here? Probably not, I'm aware the Death Note would most likely have unlimited paper, and a Death Note would still be functional even with a page or piece missing . . . Between ivory locks, Near grinned. So it must have deliberately placed a piece or whole page, or pages, for that matter, from it's or another's Death Note here somewhere, knowing I would touch it and be able to see and hear it. But that would mean that it needs me. Or, at least, it needs me for something that I need to see and hear it. What could a Shinigami, a god of death, want with a human that it's indifferent to?
"Well? Are you going to tell me your business here, Shinigami? Or are you simply waiting for me to answer for you?" said Near at last. The jeweled skeleton seemed a bit taken aback, with what little facial expression it could muster.
"Nate River. Near. L. I am Armonia Justin Beyondormason. I am the second to the Shinigami King, and advisor to all gods of death. My authority over gods of death and humans are second only to the King", said the Shinigami pompously. It hoped its high rank and status would sway the young detective.
Near quietly pulled a tarot card from the bottom of one the decks. He stared at it grimly. Upon it was an image of a man in a robe, with the infinity symbol hovering over his head. The Magician.
"I never cared much for authority", said Near. Armonia Justin grimaced.
"Then perhaps you'll care for this: there is a crisis in the Shinigami Realm, and it may spread to the human world."
"What would this crisis be?" Near asked. Near considered the possibility of another Shinigami having dropped a Death Note, but seeing as Ryuk had never been pursued by this Shinigami (as far as he knew), there was little reason to believe this.
Armonia Justin pulled a chain from behind his back. Near counted six elaborate Death Notes on the chain. Each one had a specially designed cover. One was covered in horned skulls. Another was lined with gold, with bright phoenix patterns etched into the cover. Another was decorated with various animal bones. They all looked like they had been antiques.
"There are six Death Notes, not including the one I have, in the human world. I was able to locate five", said Armonia Justin.
"Why can you not locate the other one?"
"Only up to six of the Death Notes can function in the human world. Shinigami are only able to efficiently locate Death Notes that can kill."
"But if you're to be trusted, and a seventh Note won't work in the human world, then why bother coming to me? Why do you need these Death Notes in the first place?"
"If I leave now, then these six will no longer be a part of the human world. The seventh will begin functioning and the humans possessing it will begin to use it freely."
Near scratched his nose absentmindedly. "Why should this matter? Way of Ryuk and Light Yagami, I thought you gods of death didn't mind if a human had a Death Note, unless it's your own and a new one is unavailable. But, since you already claim to have yours . . ."
"These are . . . special ones. There are ones that were made especially by the Shinigami King, and used by the Shinigami King and his subordinates."
"May I . . . see your Death Note?"
The jeweled skeleton's pencil-thin fingers twitched. Its two-tone crystal eyes glinted as it weighed its options. Would it be a mistake to grant this human my Death Note? A Death Note prepared especially by the Shinigami King? What are the implications of this? The human doesn't . . . good, the human doesn't know the special ones can kill a Shinigami, regardless of whether or not they care for a human. The Judges. This human only wants results, this human only wants to win, I can see and have seen that much.
"Very well." Armonia Justin unclipped a gem-speckled Note from the chain and tossed it at the prodigy. With an insect-like arm, Near caught the jeweled book. The first thing he noticed was that there were much more black pages in the front. The rules of the Death Note. But not only some, possibly all of the rules.
Cautiously, Near began thumbing through the Note. There were 66 groups of rules, the last one being titled END. The first group, Near had already known. But, as he flipped through the black pages, he discovered that Armonia Justin was trustable: a few of the rules involved what the Shinigami had said about more than six Death Notes in the human world. But two others intrigued him.
"Mr. Beyondormason", Near started, "are these two co-"
The computer in front of Near beeped. A message.
"Mmm? Who's that?" wondered Armonia Justin. He shuffled in his seat, intrigued.
Near turned and opened the message. RESTER appeared in the upper-right hand corner. Underneath it was a link and a typed message: URGENT. Near dragged the mouse over to the link and selected it. It was to a recently uploaded YouTube video: "David Hoope Death (audio only)".
"Early this morning, United States President David Hoope died of a seemingly random heart attack. The implications of whether or not this had any involvement with Kira or a follower of Kira is unknown. Vice President Georgia Sands will be sworn in by tomorrow, as a nation remembers their leader . . ."
Near paused the video. What was the lie? The seventh Death Note . . . The rule . . .
"Shinigami . . . "
He turned to the jeweled skeleton. The Death God simply sat in the swivel chair, its gem eyes twinkling in the glow of Near's monitor. It raised a ring-covered hand to its forehead.
"Human, even if you wouldn't believe it, I am as shocked as you are. Although, this interesting turn of events may lead you to relize how dire our situation is and will be . . ."