3. DECAY
Landing softly on the ground below, the creature feels the hard stone between its toes and peels a few pebbles off its soles. A horrible stench enters the nostrils, and the creature wrinkles its nose in dismay. A sneeze, and the stench leaves momentarily. Rocks. Skeletons. Disease. A gray sky. A black heart. This truly is a rotten world.
Why do I exist?
Why am I alive?
Why was I created?
"A Shinigami. Her name was Rem," Light's voice echoes. And despite all the fire inside telling it to kill him a thousands time over, all it desires now is the truth about its birth.
Rem.
She must know.
One step at a time, the creature ambles through the wasteland of bone and ash, endlessly searching for the one named Rem. But the search takes it over vast amounts of terrain, and it finds itself seeing the same images two or three times in a row. Frustration builds up inside its core.
Laughing reverberates through the world. The creature looks up at a cliff and sees at a pair of moving figures lounging around a blue fire. Upon closer inspection, the pair have jewelry and clothing hanging off their bodies. The creature scales the cliff and approaches.
"Where's Rem?"
They look up.
One with rows of serrated teeth and large, fish eyes says, "Who?" It scratches its scaly skin.
"Rem, the Shinigami. Where is she?"
Both exchange glances.
"You mean Rem, the fourth-ranking Shinigami?" the slug without eyes and golden jewelry asks. "She's been dead for years." It brings its finger to its mouth. "Yup, sounds about right. Got herself killed writing down a couple of names to extend some human's life."
The other one nods. "Right, I remember now. Shame. She was a shrewd one. The creator liked her a lot. Wouldn't have taken her for a human sympathizer."
They ramble on about Rem until the creature has had enough. It grabs the fish-eyed one and lifts it into the air. "Where can I find Rem?"
"You c-can't…find someone who's d-dead!"
The creature releases it, and it scurries away with its friend. The blue fire crackles, and the creature takes a seat.
No more Rem?
No way to find out my identity.
The creature looks down at its pale hands, the hands that twice killed Light Yagami. Perhaps they are capable of killing—
One hand reaches into the cloak and pierces the skin. A sharp pain extends through its body, but the creature pays no mind. Its pointer finger and thumb peel apart the skin and muscle to open up the chest cavity like in a dissection. It notices a hand-sized mass beneath the ribcage and snaps a few bones to reach in and grab onto the heart. There's no beat. With a hard tug it severs the organ from its arteries. The creature slumps forward, and the world goes dark.
Light touches the last stair and curses to himself. No sign of Ryuzaki within sight. Wait, no. That thing isn't Ryuzaki. That thing is no more than a cheap and violent imitation. It's more like a child, if anything.
He doesn't know where to go. A long wasteland of nothing sits before him and seems to go on as far as the stone mountains. He groans but then realizes this may be for the better. He doesn't need to worry about that thing. That thing could go and rot away somewhere, while Light continues on to the City of Gods. All he needs is someone willing enough to show him. There has to be a Shinigami in the number that dwell within this foggy world willing enough.
Light walks for a time, searching ever crevice or hole where a Shinigami may be found. He meets a few, but they all give him the same answer:
"Piss off, dog."
Dog. Is that what his title has been reduced to? Is that as far he has fallen? He's not even human to these beings but an animal. A pet. What Light would give to have the Death Note in his hand. What he would give to have the power to kill Shinigami by writing their names down. What he would give to take the god king's place.
Light freezes. The thought crosses his mind several times over, and a feeling of utter jubilance overwhelms him. It builds in his stomach and extends out to his limbs like blood coursing through his veins.
Take the god king's place? Yes, that sounds like a fine treat. Once I have reclaimed my name, I'll take that blob's spot.
A snicker starts in the pit of his chest and releases into a burst of laughter. "Yes, yes. That sounds fantastic!" With the power of a god king, he could never die. With the power of a god king, everyone, human and Shinigami, would revere and fear him. Nobody would oppose a true god of death.
Just as a plan begins formulating in his mind, two figures appear in Light's peripheral vision. Two small-sized Shinigami, clothed and embroidered with jewelry, come running toward his direction.
"Is it after us?"
"Who fucking cares? Keep running!"
As the space between Light and them thins, Light deduces they may be able to help him. He steps in their path.
"Oh shit," the Shinigami with fish eyes says, "there's another one."
The slug-like Shinigami with golden jewelry hanging off its fat neck surveys its surroundings. "How many are there?"
Another one? Light's eyes widen. "Excuse me, may I ask what you are running from?"
They both look at each other, as if surprised.
"A-are you going to attack us, too?" The fish-eyed Shinigami backs up into its partner, who hides behind it. Their bodies shake in unison.
Light already knows who's responsible. "No, of course not. I'd actually like to ask you two a question: Do you know where I can find the City of Gods?"
The jewelry-clad slug hisses, "How do we know you won't attack us if we tell you?"
Light sighs. When he thought he could rid himself of this manifestation, he finds himself being dragged back toward it like some dog on a leash. "I could find and take care of whatever has attacked you. As payment, I'd like you to take me to the city."
"You don't want to confront that thing. It'll rip you to shreds."
He nods. "So I've heard."
The fish-eyed one points him in the direction. "Look for a blue fire on a cliff. It should be around there."
"Understood."
With that, Light heads across more wasteland, around a few large rocks and through a trench before noticing thick, black smoke rising from a higher elevation. All of a sudden, the brand on his shoulder pulses like a heart beat. He staggers but keeps his footing. Another pulse, and it feels like his back has caught fire. His teeth grit together, trying to resist the pain. The burning intensifies. A thousand knives are peeling his flesh apart. The thousand knives evolve in a thousand needles. The pain grows so excruciating, Light gags.
And as soon as it starts, it quells to nothing. Light stands and wipes the sweat from his forehead with the heel of his hand. What the hell?
Kami's words ring in his head. The brand connects them—Light and L's manifestation. An overwhelming desire to strangle something pours into him, but Light takes a few breaths to compose himself before heading toward the thick, black smoke rising into the sky.
A blue fire, like the Shinigami had described, sits crackling at the cliff's peak. Light can overlook the gray world from up here. It reminds him of the times he overlooked his domain in the human world. How everyone below him looked like ants to crush or control. How the sounds of car horns and people yelling somehow brought him comfort. Perhaps it's because he had finished his score with L—the real L. And now he'd have to play the game all over again.
His eyes lower to a black and white ball siting near the fire. He's not sure if the thing is asleep or dead. He hopes the latter. Light approaches with caution and taps the manifestation on the shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"
Its hand snatches his wrist and pulls his face close. Their eyes come within inches of each other.
"Who am I?" it asks.
Light remains calm. "You're Ryuzaki."
"Am I?" Its black, soulless orbs stare into him as if searching for any hint of deception. "Or am I some cheap knockoff?"
"You look like Ryuzaki, like L, but you're different," Light explains. "The real Ryuzaki died years ago." He shakes his head. "You're right. You're not him. You were created from me, from my memories of him. You're a memory."
The manifestation's grip on Light's wrist loosens enough for Light to slip his hand free. "Then…what is my purpose?"
Light straightens and runs his fingers through his brown hair. "If you come with me, you may find out."
"I don't want to help you," it hisses.
"I didn't say you have to help me," Light reasons. "I said that you could come with me. Sitting here isn't going to give you your answers." He offers a hand and forces a warm smile. "Does that sound fair?"
Those black eyes watch him with lingering distain and question. The manifestation raises its hand and swats Light's away. It stands. "We'll see about that." It starts down the rocky cliff.
"You'll need a name."
"Ryuzaki will suffice, since that's the person you say I resemble."
Light doesn't like it. "Very well."
A/N: So the point of this chapter is mainly to get a sense of the switching POVs. I think this is also meant to continue the battle between understanding whether "Ryuzaki" is L or a new, composite character. Thoughts? ;-)