True Elision

by Ezan

YAOI RaitoL.Raito dies and becomes nothing. But the Shinigami need his soul,so they give him a second ey recreate his spirit and send him to a hellish trial where he must face his living nightmares. Romance comes very late in fic

22. Erebus III: Fury

Happy 2025, everyone!

Thank you so so SO much for reading and reviewing to all those who did, your reviews kept me going through the last month of writing these 50 pages...

Guys...I SWEAR I'm not doing it on purpose, I SWEAR! This was supposed to be like a quick side-adventure and now we're in a full arc...I guess I'm just enjoying our foray into sci-fi so much that I can't help myself! I hope I'm keeping the drama and the romance-teasing high enough to keep you entertained ...but even if you hate sci-fi, please just wait a little longer, coz I GUARANTEE you this stuff pays dividends later on in the story. And we don't have many chapters left to go on this...or we shouldn't! :D But no, we really don't, and a lot of the stuff that happens here will be crucial later on (and I know this because after they get out of the building, I've pre-written a lot of the materials...INCLUDING THE JUICY STUFF, MWAHAHAAAA).

(But I mean...come on, I know you guys can handle it. If you've read the first 15 rambly philosophical chapters of this story...you've been tried and tested, lets face it :D That was a Trial for you too :D And please, PLEASE for the love of God guys...PLEASE do not go back and re-read all those chapters. I PROMISE YOU I'm gonna rework them later on and they will be easier and more fun to read than they are now...In fact at that point, I'll be here BEGGING YOU to go back and read them! If you do it now I can't sleep well at night, knowing that readers are suffering through all that blabber, haha! )

Ok so enough blabber. This chapter is full of blood and sweat- for Raito, L and for me too...jeez, this was tough to write. And longer than I thought. :D :D In fact, this is technically the FIRST HALF of two, but I couldn't go on writing without giving you at least something for your patience...

So here we go. The next level of Erebus- FURY!

Enjoy!

---

The hidden staircase spiraled downward, its narrow concrete walls brushing Raito's shoulders whenever he misjudged a step. The faint blue glow of the EMP gun in his left hand cast angular shadows across his face, sharpening the tension in his features as he led the descent.

Their footsteps echoed hollowly, broken by distant groans and bangs that sounded here and there, seemingly from behind the walls. Not the organic creaks of failing pipes, no—they were deliberate. Industrial. Mechanical.

Raito's grip on the EMP tightened, his knuckles white against the cold metal. After seeing that pit of…bodies in Schaunhauer's office earlier, he had to wonder what was hiding in the infrastructure of this place. He shoved the thought aside, focusing instead on more pressing questions: What about this passage, now? Another infinite loop? A trap?

Nora's ghost flickered in his mind—her wide, unblinking eyes, her fragile hands gesturing toward the book that had led them to safety. Was she even real? He couldn't be sure. The memory gnawed at him, feeding his growing unease. Had he hallucinated her out of sheer desperation?

He shot a glance over his shoulder. L followed close behind, his black eyes gleaming like polished obsidian in the dim light. Raito quickly looked away, his jaw tightening. He knew the questions were coming: How had Raito found the passage? Why had he called Nora's name?

The weight of L's silent scrutiny bore down on him, stoking his frustration even more. How would L react to Raito seeing things others couldn't, especially considering his history with the Death Note? Their fragile truce wouldn't survive that revelation.

Distracted, Raito nearly walked into the wall where the staircase abruptly ended. He stopped short, his hand brushing the smooth concrete that blocked his way. It looked like a dead end, but there had to be another secret way to open it.

"Help me check," he said tersely, running his fingers along the wall.

"Gladly, Raito-kun," L replied, deadpan. "If you'd release my hand first."

Raito froze, his head snapping down to see his fingers still encircling L's wrist. The faint pulse under his touch sent a jolt through him. He yanked his hand back, heat rising to his face.

"...You might've tripped," he muttered, sharper than intended.

L tilted his head, gaze steady and unfazed. "Of course. Although," he added in that maddeningly calm tone, "humans often seek tactile reassurance in times of stress."

Raito stiffened. Humans. Right. L isn't human. Must remember that.

"Thanks for the insight, Dr. Freud," he muttered, resuming his search. L doesn't need reassurance. He's a machine. Always watching. Always judging. The thought both soothed and infuriated him, and he quickly decided not to trust L with a single thing after all. Not about Nora. Not about anything.

The silence grew heavy, broken only when L's voice murmured, "Here."

Raito turned to see L tracing a faint panel seam. He stepped closer, their shoulders brushing as he pushed against the wall. With a soft hiss, the panel slid aside, revealing a door.

A cold, sterile light spilled into the stairwell, making Raito squint. He stepped cautiously into the room beyond. It was small, claustrophobic, its bare metal walls lined with five sleek, human-sized capsules. Thin tubes connected them to the wall like veins feeding lifeless bodies.

Raito's breath hitched. "Cryosleep?" he murmured.

"Or emergency escape." L corrected, pointing to retractable hatches beneath the capsules. "Schaunhauer must have prepared for the AI becoming uncontrollable."

Escape. Relief and skepticism warred within Raito. Escape to where, though?

"They look dead," he said, gesturing with the end of his gun at the dark control panel beside the nearest pod.

"True." L's gaze swept the room. "But the real question is: even if we activate them—where do they lead?"

Raito's grip tightened on the EMP. Good point.

As L knelt down to peruse the pods more closely, Raito paced the room, frustration simmering.

He moved to the far wall, where metal cases labeled with glowing S.O.S. signs lined the shelves. Inside, emergency kits and energy boosters were packed with unsettling precision. He took one in his hand, grimacing at the sight of neatly labeled Nutritional Energy Tablets. Practical, yes….but who wants to take pills for breakfast, lunch and dinner?

No chocolate, he thought, a flicker of amusement tinged with bitterness. L will be devastated.

He glanced over his shoulder. L crouched beside a pod, fingers ghosting over its seams. Raito's gaze lingered — too long — on the pale line of that nape, the delicate arc of his folded legs. His jaw clenched. Damn him and his— He cut the thought short.

"What are you doing now?" Raito's voice cut sharp, sharper than intended.

L didn't glance up. "Examining the hardware. Primitive. Not integrated with the mainframe — at least from what I can see here."

"That's good, right?" Raito's tone lacked conviction as he slid open one of the glass panels. Instead of gauze and antiseptics, the medical kits held sleek, inscrutable devices—unusable by the uninitiated.

"Good, if they work," L said, neutral. "And if the escape route isn't another carefully laid trap."

Raito pursed his lips, annoyed by L's endless caution - even though it mirrored his own.

"Always the optimist."

"Caution isn't pessimism, Raito-kun." L's calm reply was a wall, as usual.

Raito turned back to the cases. More useless machinery—until his eyes caught a sleek metallic rod in the corner, the size of a police baton. He pulled it free. Really? People still use these in the future? It didn't look half as impressive as everything else he'd seen in this place.

Almost absently, he gave it a flick. Electricity arced from the tip with a hiss.

'His lips curled to a smirk. Ahh.

He spun it again, now in a smooth, continuous motion. The crackling light whirred in a perfect circle, creating a line of pain for anyone who'd dare approach it. With a twist, he switched hands, reversing the spin. Good balance, good grip—

A prickle ran down his spine. He stopped and turned sharply—L was watching him, his gaze intense and unreadable.

"What?" Raito snapped.

L held his stare a moment longer, then returned to the pod. "Nothing."

Raito's grip tightened. Nothing. Of course. L's silence was worse than judgment. He probably thinks I'm gonna crack his skull with this the moment he turns his back.

Raito secured the rod in his belt, bitterness rising. He'll never trust me.

As if on cue, L spoke, voice deliberate. "By the way, Raito-kun—your book selection earlier. A very lucky choice." A small pause — Raito recognized it as the calm before the scorpion sting.

"How did you know to pull it?"

Here we go. "It looked more used," Raito said easily, shutting the cabinet.

"And 'Nora'?" L pressed. "Did she guide you to it?"

"Thought I saw a ghost." Raito lied without missing a beat. "Probably hallucinated. There was a photo on the wall."

L hummed, clearly unconvinced.

Good, Raito thought, though the satisfaction was hollow. Let him be. He doesn't trust me, so why should I trust him?

He turned back to the wall, opening another case with unnecessary force. When the latch didn't work, he brought out the billy club and struck it open, the thud echoing through the room.

"Subtle," L murmured, not bothering to look.

Raito scowled and tossed a water bottle. L caught it without turning.

"You're welcome," Raito muttered, turning away before his frustration could spill further. He fiddled with a taser-looking gadget, letting the tense silence stretch.

Finally, L stood, arms crossed, eyes on the pods. "Interesting," he said, keeping his back to Raito. "Though independent from the mainframe, these could operate with external fuel."

Raito, despite himself, stepped closer. His irritation subsided slightly at the face of curiosity. "External? Like batteries?"

L didn't answer right away, tilting his head to the side as he studied the readout. From his vantage point directly behind the other man, Raito's eyes caught automatically on the white shirt collar, slipping further and further down the side of L's neck, inch by inch revealing pale, unmarred skin.

Tsk. Messy. Raito gritted his teeth, looking away.

L finally straightened, turning with a kind of languid ease that only fueled Raito's irritation. "Concentrated electrical charge," L said, calm as ever.

"Great," Raito snapped. "Let's power them up."

"We could, possibly." L agreed, still scanning the pods. "Perhaps in the process, we'll discover their destination."

Raito forced his voice steady. "Exactly. Better than sitting here."

L nodded, thoughtful. Raito turned to the far wall, where he'd earlier spotted a faint panel near the room's main door. Enough standing around watching L play Great Detective—time to move.

"Over here," he said, again sharper than intended. "This looks like a way out."

L passed him silently, working the panel. Raito followed, his resentment twisting into a knot as the wall slid open in seconds under L's hand, revealing a dimly lit corridor beyond. Shadows flickered across the metallic floor.

"Shall we?" L's voice was soft as he turned back to gaze at him, standing on the side of the door.

Raito gripped the EMP tightly, sending L a last, loaded scowl before walking out.

Smug bastard.

Despite his irritation, though, he waited to hear the sound of the other's footsteps before moving on.

---

The corridor ahead was wider than any of the ones before, dimly lit by flickering yellow industrial lamps. The walls gleamed with condensation, their surfaces bristling with pipes and panels that hummed faintly.

They walked slowly, carefully observing the new environment. Every few steps, Raito could hear the quiet drip of water echoing through the vast space, a steady counterpoint to the distant whir of machinery. The air was colder here, heavier, carrying a metallic tang that settled on his tongue like rust.

Rows of thick, glowing magnetic tracks crisscrossed the wide floor, faintly pulsing with blue light. The tracks converged near hulking transport platforms, their surfaces covered in grime and speckled with rust. Towering cranes loomed overhead, their sleek, jointed arms frozen mid-motion, like the skeletal remains of some giant mechanical beasts. Each crane was equipped with high-speed clamps and precision manipulators, designed for rapid industrial work, but now they stood inert, their shadows stretching across the cavernous room.

"Where the hell are we now?" Raito muttered quietly, between gritted teeth.

"Undoubtedly somewhere more dangerous," L replied, crouching beside a cluster of scorched marks on the floor. He ran a finger along the blackened surface, frowning faintly. "These burns are recent. High-voltage discharge."

Raito's eyes narrowed, scanning their surroundings. A faint vibration coursed through the floor, accompanied by a rhythmic thudding, distant but steady. His unease deepened. He looked up to the high ceiling—an intricate web of suspended girders and thick pipes, interspersed with glowing power conduits. For once, there were no visible drones or cameras, but that still didn't reassure him.

"Keep it low," he muttered, as L rose back to his feet beside him, nodding curtly.

They continued forward, each step slower than the last. Suddenly, a faint scuttling sound echoed from the far end of the corridor.

They both froze, eyes snapping to a small vent just ahead. Raito swung the EMP into position immediately, its coils humming to life as a faint blue charge flickered along its barrel.

A second later, a spindly, insect-like…thing emerged, its metallic legs clicking softly against the floor. Raito's thumb hovered over the trigger, his jaw clenched. The small machine paused, its multi-lensed head tilting in their direction, then scuttled up the wall and disappeared into another vent.

Raito lowered the EMP gun slowly, his eyes narrowed. "Well that's new."

L stayed quiet from the side, not blinking. After a few moments, he spoke, "Maintenance unit? Or surveillance, possibly."

Surveillance. Raito scowled darkly. He knew that bitch A.I. had to be watching from somewhere; could it be she'd be sending robot army spiders after them next? He wouldn't be surprised.

"Keep moving," he said dryly, stepping slightly in front of L as he took the lead.

"You're far too eager to escalate," the soft baritone came from behind him, the neutral tone belying any kind of judgment. "Your temper is a liability."

Raito shot a quick glare over his shoulder. "And your lack of urgency isn't?"

L's lips curled into the faintest smirk. "Are you suggesting I adopt your method of indiscriminately aiming oversized weaponry at every shadow? Self-reassuring, perhaps, but not efficient."

Raito scowled, refusing to glance back as he muttered darkly, "Maybe I should activate Sentinel again then, hm? Calm myself down. Be more like you."

"If you need enhancers to control your impulses, I suppose so," came L's flat reply, calm as ever. "Although that would be a sincere disappointment for your admirers... Raito-kun."

Blood rushed to Raito's head, but he clamped his lips shut, his tongue grazing his upper canines. He wouldn't rise to the bait. Wouldn't give L the satisfaction of being proven right… Though he was increasingly tempted, pride be damned.

He grit his teeth and kept walking.

The corridor stretched endlessly ahead, a cold expanse of steel and shadows. Its walls gleamed faintly beneath a film of grime, broken by access hatches and vents that exhaled soft bursts of stale air. Overhead, tangled pipes dripped condensation, leaving dark streaks across the floor, and the metallic tang of oil and coolant lingered in the back of Raito's throat.

The faint outline of massive freight elevators loomed in the distance, their platforms locked in place, flanked by towering rows of dormant auto-loaders. Alongside them sat large cylindrical tanks, their surfaces marred by rust and faded warning labels, connected to a network of insulated cables running along the walls.

He moved carefully, his eyes flitting to every shadowed recess and seam between panels. The faint hum of the EMP charge buzzed in his palm, ready.

It was too quiet. Too 'safe'. He scanned for potential cover—anything that could double as an escape route if things went south.

Behind him, L's footsteps halted.

"Hmm."

Raito slowed, turning his head just enough to catch L crouched by a rectangular console embedded in the wall. The console's surface was dull with scratches and grime, its edges corroded, a relic of overuse. L's pale finger traced the cracked monitor, leaving a streak through the dirt before tapping the screen. After a beat of hesitation, the machine sputtered reluctantly to life, casting faint green light over L's face as garbled text began scrolling.

"Anything useful, or just indulging your curiosity?" Raito muttered, his tone clipped.

L didn't look up. "Shipping manifests." His slender fingers tapped at the sluggish interface, eliciting flickering flashes. "Freight moved through here regularly. These corridors likely lead to upper levels—possibly a central inventory warehouse."

Raito frowned, stepping closer despite himself. "What kind of 'inventory' are we talking about?"

"Various." L's voice remained maddeningly clinical. "Industrial, medical, home appliances, leisure models…"

"Leisure models?" Raito repeated, his brow knitting.

L finally turned to look at him.

"Robots, Raito-kun."

Raito's blood ran cold.

Unperturbed, L turned back to the terminal. "Some shipments here are marked for restricted use. …Military contracts, I'd wager."

"Military contracts," Raito echoed hollowly.

L met his gaze. "Yes."

Raito's pulse spiked, his grip tightening unconsciously on the EMP. The faint hum of pipes and machinery around them now took on a more sinister undertone. Military robots. Fantastic.

"Keep moving," he ordered tersely, spinning on his heel. His gaze darted across the corridor again, now laced with thick beams overhead that appeared to support massive overhead cranes. Some of the machines looked inert, hulking masses of sleek metal lying dormant along the walls or suspended from tracks that glowed faintly with magnetic energy.

He didn't trust them. Not a single one. Raito's eyes lingered on a heavy freight hauler that loomed at the far end of the corridor, its segmented arms folded neatly but poised like a sleeping predator. He shuddered involuntarily, his mind conjuring worst-case scenarios. Would Angel activate them? Turn the entire facility into a death trap? He glanced at L, who seemed entirely unbothered, strolling along like a tourist — or a kid at a funfair, with those wide unblinking eyes and that look of naive wonder — and felt his blood pressure rise.

They pressed forward in tense silence, their footsteps muffled by the growing hiss of leaking pipes. The floor beneath them grew colder, each step releasing a faint metallic clink. Raito caught flickers of movement in his periphery—shadows vanishing before he could focus. His gaze darted nervously toward the nearest crane, its massive claw poised as if waiting for a command.

Suddenly, he heard L's footsteps halt again.

"Now what?" Raito snapped, turning to glare.

L had stopped beside a larger console, its surface tangled with wires. The monitor here displayed transfer orders with a flickering precision. L scrolled through the data, his gestures practiced.

"This confirms my earlier suspicion," L said without looking up. "This was a key node for distributing robotics. If the upper levels hold assembly or storage facilities, they may still contain—"

"L, this isn't a history lesson!" Raito snapped. "We don't have time for this. We need to keep moving."

For once, L looked irked. "If you think acquiring context is—"

A low, resonant thud echoed through the corridor, silencing them both.

Raito spun, EMP raised, eyes locked on the wall to their left. The corridor stood deathly still for a heartbeat. Then another. His breaths came sharp and fast, nostrils flaring.

"Raito-kun. Calm down," L said, his tone infuriatingly calm. "It's probably just another maintenance un—"

But L never got to finish that sentence— a section of wall buckled outward with a deafening crack. Sparks erupted as something powerful — extremely powerful, tried to force its way through.

"Move!" Raito yelled, lunging for L as the wall ahead groaned and cracked. He yanked L back just as a massive claw ripped through the wall its mechanical joints groaning as it smashed straight through through the corridor and into the terminal L had been using moments before. Freight containers tumbled like toys, and a thick cloud of dust and debris exploded outward.

They hit the ground hard, skidding through debris as the machine burst fully into view. Its massive, segmented arm writhed like a snake, claws snapping erratically. Gears ground and lights flickered on its chassis, its frame hulking and insect-like, supported by thick, jointed legs.

Raito scrambled to his feet, pulling the EMP up as the machine jerked violently in front of him, tearing cables from the walls and sending sparks flying.

"Stay back!" he barked, trying to steady his trembling hands.

The machine's claw twisted toward him with terrifying speed, its hazard lights flaring. He pulled the trigger without further thought.

A brilliant burst of energy struck the wall behind the loader, missing entirely as the machine surged forward, dragging one massive leg with a sickening groan of metal. Raito cursed, his pulse hammering, and adjusted his aim.

He fired again.

This time, the EMP struck the arm's midsection, sending a cascade of electricity crackling across its frame. The claw spasmed, its movements growing more erratic, but it didn't stop.

"Come on," Raito muttered under his breath, raising the gun for a third shot. He pulled the trigger.

The impact was deafening, a shockwave of sparks and smoke erupting as the loader's arm shuddered violently. Its claw twisted one final time before collapsing with a resounding crash, embedding itself into the floor. The machine twitched once, its hazard lights flickering weakly, then fell still.

Raito staggered back, chest heaving, the gun still raised as if expecting the thing to lurch back to life. The air was thick with the acrid stench of burnt circuitry and scorched metal.

His shoulders sagged, the adrenaline giving way to exhaustion. He turned, eyes scanning the dim, smoke-filled corridor until he found L.

The detective was already upright, brushing dust off his sleeve with maddening calm.

Raito let out a sharp exhale, forcing himself to look away as he tried to steady his breathing. His hands still shook as he gripped the EMP, his knuckles white.

"Still think I'm overreacting?" he grit out darkly, watching the other man approach the wreckage.

"The reaction was appropriate." L said, looking calmly at the scorched parts of the machine. Raito didn't have time to roll his eyes before L continued his dispassionate assessment. "Well. This is…unfortunate."

"Unfortunate?!" Raito snapped, breathless, his eyes darting between L and the twitching crane arm. "You were almost crushed! Stop acting like this is normal!"

L tilted his head. "Your concern is noted, Raito-kun."

Raito glared at him. He could feel his jaw ache from all the clenching he'd been doing. Of course, L would remain infuriatingly detached while Raito's heart tried to burst out of his chest.

A few moments passed and Raito still didnt move, watching with increasing frustration as L kneeled down again to look at the machine.

"Composite alloy exoskeleton. Highly complex circuitry to simulate both slow and fast-fiber musculature. I wonder if it was attracted to the sound of our voices or the vibration of our footsteps–" L muttered to himself.

"Gee. Maybe we should find a way to levitate the rest of the way." Raito snapped back sarcastically, slinging the EMP behind his back temporarily to rest his arms.

L turned back to look at him — this time with narrowed eyes. Raito realized, with some amazement—he'd done it: L was finally, finally, annoyed.

"Raito-kun." the man said, slowly standing up to look square at Raito "What, per se, is your problem?"

Raito glared at him. "What is my problem?" he repeated, half-disbelieving, half-accusatory.

"Yes. I'm making deductions to help us, and you keep sulking. What is—"

"My problem, L, is that we're in a den of killer robots, with a psychotic A.I. on our backs, and you're playing CSI like this is a Sherlock Holmes novel. If something happens, you're defenseless. Wake. Up."

L's lips pressed into a thin line. "I thought you agreed it was a good idea to gather as much intel as possible about this place."

"Yes, well…" Raito's voice trailed off slightly, concealing his anxiety through exasperation "That was before I saw the giant ditch full of cyborg corpses back there. Some of them were still breathing - maybe immortal, like us. Do you want to spend eternity in a pit of gore…or can we keep moving now?"

L, for once, didn't have a ready answer. He stayed silent for a few moments, then — shockingly — looked away.

Raito scowled, hollow at the victory. He didn't want to be cruel — or to throw a tantrum like this — but L had to understand. Angel might be watching every step. What use were deductions if they got killed making them?

L still didn't speak, just studied the pipes along the wall like they held the secrets of the universe.

Who's sulking now? Raito kept himself from rolling his eyes. Exasperated,he unhooked the electrified billy club from his belt and tossed it to L.

"Here. If you're hellbent on poking consoles, at least play whack-a-mole if something jumps out."

L's hand shot out, catching the weapon before his head turned. "Noted."

Raito shook his head and turned back to the corridor, muttering under his breath as he took out the EMP again, "One more comment, and I'm flipping Sentinel, I swear." If only to stop myself from strangling him, he added in his mind.

He'd barely taken two steps when a faint buzz sounded behind him. Turning back, he froze.

L held the baton, now extended into a glowing staff, beams of light flaring from each end—a veritable lightsaber. He spun it smoothly in a smooth circle, switched hands, then retracted the beams with a click on some unseen button Raito had no idea existed.

He looked up and simply blinked at Raito, expression neutral.

Raito's jaw tightened. Had he... known it could do that all along?

That… bastard.

Clenching his teeth, Raito snapped his head forward and kept walking.

I shouldn't strangle him, he thought bitterly. I really shouldn't.

---

They moved down the corridor, the faint hum of machinery vibrating underfoot. The air felt colder and colder as they moved forward, the tall ceilings creating a current through the cavernous space.

Raito bit the inside of his lip as he finally saw a metal barrier ahead: a massive industrial gate, sealed and immovable. Its surface was marked with deep grooves, as though something large had clawed at it.

"Dead end." he muttered. No matter which angle he looked from, it was clearly impenetrable.

L studied a touch-panel on the side of the gate, tilting his head. "The locking mechanism seems to be receiving signals from elsewhere in the building. Possibly another—"

"Floor." Raito interrupted, nodding with a scowl. "Yup. We're not opening this. Let's backtrack."

Without waiting for a response, he turned, scanning the walls for hatches they might've missed. His nerves were taut, and the eerie silence didn't help.

They retraced their steps to where the huge machine claw had smashed through the side of the corridor. L paused at the breach in the wall, crouching to inspect what was visible through the opening.

"There must be a larger tunnel network through there," he said. "Large enough to fit this machine."

"Yes. And possibly its buddies." Raito growled.

L ignored the ominous comment, continuing on his investigative track. "There might also be auxiliary ladders leading to the upper levels."

Raito sighed, exhaling through his nose in an attempt to quell the jittery energy bubbling under his skin. It didn't help. His hand tightened reflexively around the EMP gun, its weight both a comfort and a reminder of their razor-thin margin for error.

"All right. Here goes."

Without waiting for acknowledgment, he crouched and slipped through the narrow crevice left by the crane's impact. The jagged edges of the torn metal walls grazed his sleeves as he ducked. "Watch your head," he muttered, more as a reflex than a courtesy.

The air on the other side hit him like a damp wave— even more metallic and acrid, heavy with the tang of scorched plastic and faint ozone. As though they were heading deeper and deeper toward some infernal mechanical core. The new passage was just as large as the previous, its walls lined with exposed cables, some sparking faintly, sending erratic pulses of light across the darkened space.

L followed silently, his movements as casual as ever. Raito turned his head briefly to watch him pass through the breach on the wall, an inexplicable heat stirring in his chest as he saw the white shirt catch and tear slightly on one of the jagged edges.

Messy, dammit!

He snapped his gaze forward again. L was so annoying.

They moved deeper into the corridor, stepping over debris and puddles of what might have once been coolant. The faint hum of unseen machinery resonated through the metal floor. After several yards, they came upon a ladder bolted to the wall, its rungs worn but sturdy. It was suspended — just low enough to be reachable with a good jump.

Raito froze, looking at it, then back at the yawning tunnel ahead. He quickly made the decision, turning toward the ladder, silently gesturing for L to follow.

With a quick sprint and leap, he caught the lower rung and began the climb, the metal cold against his hands as he pulled himself up. Moments later, he felt the vibration of L's body following him. The ladder creaked ominously under their combined weight, and his heart leapt at each groan of stressed steel.

They climbed and climbed, higher and higher, further than one would expect for a single floor. This must be for maintenance workers, he thought, appreciating the fact that there was at least one area of this building that didn't depend on electronics to allow movement.

He risked a glance down. L was following at a deliberate pace, his dark eyes tilted upward, apparently unfazed by the precarious climb.

When they reached the top, Raito hauled himself onto the upper floor and scanned the area, pulling the EMP from his back holster again. In seconds, he felt L's body fall in place beside him— with the metal rod unsheathed.

Finally, some sense. He thought irritably, taking a silent step forward. The tense atmosphere was setting his nerves on edge.

The space ahead was much different from the lower levels. It had the look of an industrial hangar, stretching wide and high, with half-light casting everything in a muted twilight glow. Dust motes swirled lazily in the still air, illuminated by the faint blue-green glow of lights far overhead. The place felt lifeless, yet oppressive—caught between abandonment and lurking menace.

Heavy metal doors lined the walls, their surfaces stained with streaks of rust. Crates, massive and imposing, were stacked in columns, some pried open to spill strange, tangled contents: coiled wires, shattered circuit boards, skeletal robotic limbs frozen mid-motion like eerie trophies.

"Storage level," L whispered, barely audible. Every small sound they made carried in the cavernous stillness like a ripple across water.

Raito nodded once, sharply. He raised his hand for silence, his ears straining for anything out of place. The idea that the machines might track sound or air currents wasn't confirmed, but why take the risk?

They moved in sync, their footsteps muffled by a thin carpet of dust coating the floor. The air was heavy, thick with the scent of oil and decay, undercut by something faintly acrid—like chemicals left too long in the heat.

At a junction, Raito froze. A faint, rhythmic whir reached his ears, low and distant but unmistakable. His muscles tensed as he raised a fist, signaling L to stop.

The sound grew louder, and with it, a shadow shifted ahead, sliding lazily over the walls. Hurriedly, Raito guided L into a shadowed alcove, between a stack of containers and a wall.

The metal surface was cold against their backs, its chill biting through their clothes. Raito pressed in tighter when the buzzing sound shifted closer, their shoulders brushing. Heat bloomed where they touched, in sharp contrast to the frigid air.

The shadow rounded the corner, revealing its source: a drone. Its spherical body hovered with unsettling precision, pulsing faintly as it emitted a thin green scanning beam. It moved in deliberate, methodical sweeps, its soft hum filling the air.

The beam brushed closer, dancing dangerously near their feet. Raito's breath hitched, his heart hammering as he willed himself still. Beside him, L was unnervingly calm, his stillness almost unnatural.

The steady rhythm of his breathing—amplified in the oppressive quiet—wrapped around Raito's senses. He's too loud, he thought, unexplainably annoyed. And then there was that faint, maddening scent. L's skin? The sweet undertone mixed with the acrid air until Raito felt his pulse stutter.

His chest tightened, heat prickling under his collar. Annoyance flared, sharp and immediate. He stared ahead, jaw clenching, determined to ignore the irrational jolt. Thank God machines couldn't smell, otherwise L's stupid vanilla body odour would have them discovered in an instant.

The drone beeped once, its beam faltering before it turned and floated away, its hum receding into the distance.

Raito exhaled slowly, peeling himself away from the wall. The absence of L's warmth left the air sharper, colder against his skin.

That was too close — perhaps in more ways than one. He motioned for the other to follow, his jaw tightening with irritation.

He took the lead again, every step feeling heavier. The hum of distant machinery grew louder, punctuated by flickering lights and the occasional crackle of unseen systems.

Behind him, L moved silently, his presence a frustrating mix of calm detachment and steady focus. Raito knew those dark eyes were cataloging every detail—scanning crates, walls, and whatever else might hold answers.

Raito slowed as they reached a glass door, opening to what looked like a small office inside the warehouse. As he approached they hissed open, making him flinch — hopefully that hadn't drawn attention. Inside the room there was a cluster of touchscreens, the cracked displays emitting faint, sluggish streams of data. L stepped past him, his pale fingers ghosting over one screen's jagged edge.

"Robotics storage indeed," L whispered, barely audible. "Older prototypes and decommissioned models, it appears."

The screen's glow carved sharp shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp curve of his cheekbones and the shadows under his dark eyes. Raito glanced away quickly, irritation bubbling again for reasons he didn't fully understand.

"Amazing deduction," he hissed back, clocking all sides for signs of danger. He didn't need L reading archives to tell there were stacks of dormant robots all around here.

L ignored him, his attention fully absorbed by the interface. Time stretched, the silence filled with the faint clicks of L navigating the terminal. Finally, Raito's patience snapped. He stepped closer, and leaned in, gripping L's shoulder lightly but firmly as he brought his mouth close to the other man's ear.

"Whatever you're looking for, find it faster. We don't have all day," he hissed, his voice low and tight.

L's eyes flicked to him briefly, then back to the screen. "Noted," he said softly, his voice smooth and composed as ever. If he felt any pressure, he sure didn't show it.

But the clicking did quicken, L's hands moving faster. Raito watched, his eyes drawn to the slender fingers scrolling with precision. His annoyance only deepened when L shifted to another screen without hesitation, entirely unflustered.

A sudden clatter snapped them both to attention. Raito spun toward the noise, his muscles coiling. From one of the open crates outside the glass door, a small droid emerged, its cylindrical body rising on squat wheels.

The machine was a grimy patchwork of metal and grime, its articulated claws unfolding as it scanned the floor. Its single red eye flickered, pausing on Raito.

Raito raised his gun instinctively, aiming squarely at the droid. His finger tightened on the trigger,watching it like a predator its prey. He was just about to pull it — but before he could fire, L's hand closed over his arm.

"Wait," L murmured, his voice low and steady, and this time it was his breath brushing over Raito's ear. The jolt that shot through Raito's spine, making his hand slightly tremble, had nothing to do with the machine.

The droid extended a claw, swiping at a patch of dust before wheeling off toward another crate.

"Cleaning model," L said quietly, pulling away. "Non-combative."

Raito exhaled, lowering his weapon. His pulse still thundered as he watched the harmless machine disappear.

What the hell was that? He thought, throwing a glance at L, who was just standing on the side. He wasn't sure exactly what had got him so worked up; the machine or—

Wait a minute. He thought, noticing a faint yellow light on the EMP's power gauge. His stomach twisted at the blinking indicator.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath.

L's gaze shifted to the gun. "Low power?"

"Genius." Raito growled by way of answer, tinkering uselessly with the controls. No reload. No backup. He had maybe one round left - two at most.

L ignored the barb, eyes flicking to the crates outside the small office room. "We'll need to locate functioning equipment."

"We will," Raito snapped, already moving toward the room exit. "Come on."

Dammit. I can't believe this. He'd spent all that power trying to take down the huge machine down there — he hadn't even realized power drain would be an issue. Of course it would be an issue — what gun didn't need a reload?. How could he have been so stupid?

— or distracted?

And if so, what had been distracting him?

He glanced back to L, as if the other man had some kind of answer. As it happened they had just exited the glass doors, and a stream of dim light was cast over L's cheek, making the pale skin look like it was shining. The black eyes, glinting like jewels, moved to meet his; slightly questioning.

Raito turned back ahead.

Of course L wouldn't know. But whatever it was, it couldn't keep happening. Not in this place. Not when they had to fight. He couldn't afford to be distracted.

He just couldn't.

Newly aware of their precarious lack of defenses, they now moved with painstaking caution. Each step was measured, each breath held shallow, as though the very air carried the weight of their unease. The towering crates formed narrow alleyways that boxed them in, their surfaces mottled with rust and grime. The space seemed to close in around them, heavy with tension, the cold air amplifying every creak and whisper.

Raito took the lead, his senses sharpened to a painful edge. L followed closely, his movements eerily fluid, a ghostlike presence in Raito's periphery. Each faint whir or distant mechanical scrape sent them scuttling into the shadows, pressing themselves flush against the walls or ducking behind the bulk of a crate.

The first time Raito felt L's arm brush his in their frantic retreats, he kept his focus, too consumed by the task of scanning for threats. The second time, the touch lingered, warm and soft against the chill of the metal at his back. By the third, when they were crammed into a narrow alcove and L's breath ghosted over his shoulder, the pounding in his chest was impossible to ignore.

His heart thundered, a relentless cadence whose origin he didn't understand. It was stress— it had to be—the natural byproduct of being hunted, defenseless. Yet the heat of L's proximity seemed to amplify it, each accidental brush of skin against his setting off a jolt that tightened the coil of tension inside him. Because I'm angry: his breathing is too loud, he'd tell himself, His body heat is too high. His damn smell is too strong; they'll detect us.

He forced himself to focus, gesturing sharply for silence as he scanned the dim corridor. Beside him, L caught his eye and, with a deliberate motion, tapped his ear, mouthing a single word: Whisper?

Raito blinked, the suggestion jolting him momentarily. Whisper. Of course. The telepathic comms device was still nestled unobtrusively in his ear—a perfect solution for their situation. It would allow them to communicate silently, avoiding any noise that might give away their position.

And yet…

Raito's jaw tightened, his refusal immediate and instinctive. He shook his head sharply, dismissing the idea.

L's dark eyes narrowed slightly, his expression unreadable. His gaze lingered on Raito's for a moment longer than necessary, the faintest crease forming between his brows. The unspoken question hung between them: Why not?

Raito didn't offer an explanation. He simply mouthed 'No.' again, the word sharp and final.

A flicker of something—annoyance?—passed over L's face, but he didn't argue. Instead, he shifted his attention back to the corridor, falling silent once more. Raito exhaled quietly, relief mingling with something unspoken.

He could see the logic in Whisper. It made perfect sense. And yet, the thought of L's presence inside his mind—of those dark eyes judging him not just externally but internally—made his stomach twist. His thoughts were already a jumbled battlefield of irritation and something darker, something inexplicable. He didn't need L digging through that mess.

Still, the thought lingered: gadgets.

As they pressed onward, his thoughts drifted to another solution. One that had been lurking at the edge of his mind, gaining strength with every charged moment in L's proximity: Sentinel.

He remembered the icy clarity the device had granted him, the way it stripped away uncertainty and emotion, leaving only focus. The temptation was undeniable. Every nerve in his body screamed for the relief it could bring—a reprieve from the relentless turmoil that churned beneath his calm façade.

But the thought was cut short when a sound reached his ears; a faint, rhythmic buzzing — the kind he'd learned to identify as the wings of a patrol drone. But this time it was heavier, more resounding — not just one.

They froze in unison, their bodies tensing instinctively. Slowly, their gazes lifted toward the source of the noise, the oppressive stillness thickening around them like a shroud.

It wasn't long until they saw them; three drones lined up one after the other hovering in the distance, their sleek forms barely visible in the dim light, glowing green beams sweeping the dark maze of crates. And they were closing in, fast.

Raito's grip tightened on the EMP gun, his knuckles whitening. It wasn't a comforting weight—more like a reminder of just how limited their options were. One shot. Maybe two if they were lucky. The thought twisted in his gut, and for a moment, he wanted to lash out. At the drones. At the chaos. At L, who stood infuriatingly calm beside him.

They ducked behind a massive cargo crate, its dented metal sides offering a slim illusion of protection. The green light glowed closer, scan beams creeping along the ground and walls like venomous vines.

Raito's pulse thundered in his ears, each beat loud enough to drown out thought. His lungs burned, screaming for air he refused to take, lest even that small sound give them away. Beside him, L crouched low, his slim frame compressed into the tightest possible space. He was perfectly still, silent in a way that made Raito's shallow, desperate breaths feel deafening.

The searchlights drew closer, skimming the edges of their hiding spot. Raito's chest tightened further, his fingers twitching on the gun at his side. He could feel L's gaze on him—an invisible weight. He didn't dare look back but felt the unspoken judgment all the same, oppressive as if daring him to make a mistake.

Then came the beep.

A small droid, no bigger than a shoebox, rolled into view with an almost cheerful air. It chirped brightly, its glossy white casing reflecting the eerie green light from the search drones. As it trundled closer, its display screen flickered to life, showcasing a big, cartoonish smile alongside the absurd offer of "tea or coffee."

Raito's teeth clenched. Oh for—

"Shh!," he hissed under his breath, but the machine only responded with a series of delighted beeps, louder this time. The sound cut through the tense air like a knife, drawing his breath to a halt.

Above them, the drone lights froze. Only the rhythmic hum of their wings filled the silence. Then, all at once, the beams converged, bathing their hiding spot in glaring green light.

Game over.

A shrill alarm wailed to life, accompanied by strobing red lights that painted the chaos in violent shades.

"Hide," Raito muttered, already pulling the EMP to his chest and bracing himself against the crate. He didn't have time for hesitation. His back pressed harder into the metal surface as he stole a glance at L, who remained motionless, staring at him.

"Now!" he barked, his voice sharp and commanding. L's dark eyes lingered for a moment longer, unreadable as always, before he bolted, vanishing into the shadows of a crate tower nearby.

Satisfied, Raito turned his focus upward, locking onto the nearest drone. He tracked its movements like a predator, unblinking and coiled with tension. His grip on the gun tightened.

One shot left. Don't miss.

The drone crept closer, the gust from its flapping wings swirling the air around him. Closer…closer…

Now!

Raito pivoted sharply from cover, pulling the trigger in a single fluid motion. The energy blast tore through the air like a blue comet, illuminating the space with a blinding flash. Metal debris exploded outward as the drone convulsed, sparks raining down before it collapsed to the floor in a smoldering heap.

The blast threw the others off course, shrapnel ripping through their delicate propellers. They spun wildly, crashing into the crate towers before smashing into the ground in a cacophony of screeching metal.

For a moment, silence fell. The alarms blared on, pulsing red light over the haze of dust and smoke, but the immediate threat seemed neutralized.

Raito straightened slowly, scanning the wreckage with a careful eye. The glow of L's white shirt caught his attention as the other man emerged from his hiding spot and approached. Their eyes met briefly, a wordless exchange heavy with tension, before Raito's gaze dropped to the gun in his hands.

Dead. Zero power left.

He glanced back at L, a question in his eyes, but neither had the chance to speak.

The warehouse was stirring, coming to life around them.

From all sides, cargo crates hissed and groaned as their locks disengaged. Metal hatches banged open, spilling their contents into the smoky air. Machines emerged from the shadows, slow sleek and sinister, their designs more functional than menacing—but their movements sent a chill down Raito's spine.

A medical droid in pristine white plating staggered forward, segmented fingers twitching unnervingly. Each one ended in a different scalpel, gleaming under the strobing lights. Another one, chrome and quadrupedal, scuttled closer. Its faceplate was blank, featureless—until it sprayed a jet of liquid toward the ground. Acid? Something worse? Raito didn't want to find out.

Even the innocuous ones were horrifying in context. His gaze darted to another: a humanoid machine with the logo of a hospitality chain emblazoned on its chest. Its smooth, jointed legs allowed it to glide unnervingly fast, a metal tray with sharp edges gripped tightly in one claw.

One of them, a humanoid, staggered closer, its lifeless smile sending chills down his spine. He would not wait for it to move again.

"Go!" Raito barked, slinging the now-useless gun onto his back and spinning on his heels. L was already ahead, his white shirt disappearing into the maze of containers.

The warning lights pulsed in time with Raito's pounding heart as he sprinted after him. His legs burned, lungs heaving with every shallow breath. Behind them, the clatter of metal limbs and the whir of servos grew louder, a relentless chase.

Above, the drones returned, their mechanical wings slicing through the air like giant, predatory wasps.

Shit, shit, shit!

Raito cursed silently, rounding a corner just as a robot leaped from a nearby container, blocking their path. Its spindly arms whirred to life, tipped with cooking tools—knives, cutters, frying pans—all glinting with an almost mocking menace.

Before Raito could react, L moved. His stun rod snapped to life with a hiss, twin arcs of electricity crackling at its ends. In one fluid swirl, he brought it down on the machine's core.

The automaton convulsed violently, sparks flying as it crumpled to the floor.

But it wasn't done.

Even as it twitched in a heap, electricity coursing through its frame, the machine began to stir.

Not quite a lightsaber then, Raito thought bitterly, watching L whack it again, but his weapon was only a taser — not laser. Figures.

This time, as the machine stuttered back into motion, they ran.

Raito's breaths came in ragged gasps as they rounded another corner, droids jumping into their path one after the other. L moved like lightning, the crackle of his stun rod cutting through the chaos as he neutralized them with practiced precision, buying them few but precious seconds.

Then came the drone—a hulking beast with a red laser slicing through the air.

Raito acted on instinct, shoving L out of its path and diving into cover behind another crate. Pain lanced through his shoulder as he landed awkwardly, but he waved L forward, teeth clenched.

"Move!" he growled, voice cracking with strain.

L hesitated for the briefest moment, his dark eyes flicking to Raito's arm. Seeing that torn expression, a deja-vu hit Raito, unbidden, of the last time L had paused while they were running in Mu — red liquid running in streams down black hair, bleeding into white fabric, dead eyes looking into Raito's face.

Not again.

"MOVE!" Raito roared, the force of it jolting L into action.

As L sprinted ahead, Raito pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the flare of pain. The red lights pulsed brighter, the machines closing in.

They didn't have much time.

"There!" L's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and urgent.

Raito's eyes darted toward the ladder they had climbed earlier. It stretched downward into the cavernous industrial corridor below, its rungs dull and streaked with grime. Down? They'd just fought their way through hell to get here, and now they were retreating?

His jaw tightened. He wanted to argue—wanted to point out the futility of losing so much ground—but a shadow blurred in his peripheral vision before he could speak.

A machine lunged between them, its metal arm swinging toward L.

Raito moved on instinct, gripping the machine's elbow casing. It was heavier than it looked, its jointed limbs jerking with unnerving force. He twisted sharply, using all his strength, but the automaton retaliated.

Its other arm swung in a brutal arc. Raito caught the gleam of steel a split second before it slammed into his side. The impact hit like a sledgehammer, driving into his ribs. Pain erupted, sharp and unrelenting, and the breath fled his lungs.

He staggered, the world tilting as his grip slipped. His vision blurred, and the throbbing ache radiated outward in waves that left him reeling.

"Raito!" L's voice cut through the haze of pain, but Raito couldn't respond. He clenched his teeth, forcing himself to remain upright despite the agony threatening to buckle his knees.

The machine jerked forward again, preparing another strike, but L's stun rod flashed in a precise arc. The crackling energy snapped through the air, striking its core. The automaton convulsed violently, sparks erupting from its joints, before collapsing temporarily, buying them time.

"Go!" L snapped, already busy with another attacker.

Raito pressed a trembling hand to his side, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. The pain was relentless, each inhale sending a fresh stab through his ribs. He couldn't tell if they were bruised or broken, and it didn't matter. There was no time to dwell on it.

Raito hesitated, humiliation cutting through the fog of pain. His legs felt unsteady, and his ribs burned with every movement. The sting of humiliation was worse than the injury itself. He hated the way L had to step in—hated the vulnerability, the reminder that he was the one who was failing. Again.

Clenching his jaw, he gripped the rungs of the ladder. His injured side screamed in protest as he began the climb down, each movement a jarring reminder of just how close he had come to being useless.

This is pathetic. You're supposed to be the strong one—the one in control. Yet here he was, dragging himself down a ladder like a broken marionette, while L held the line above.

Every rung sent jolts of agony through his side. The slickness of blood on his arm made his grip precarious, and his breathing was shallow and ragged. Above him, L lingered, moving with calm efficiency despite the chaos.

Raito's grip faltered, his knuckles whitening as he forced himself to hold on. Useless. The word echoed in his mind, a bitter taunt he couldn't escape.

A burst of light illuminated the space above him as L vaulted toward the ladder, jamming his stun rod into a nearby panel. Sparks rained down, and Raito flinched, barely keeping his balance as a metal barrier groaned and slid into place, sealing off the upper level.

The muffled alarms faded, leaving the ladder shuddering faintly under their weight. Raito grit his teeth and continued downward, each step an ordeal. The cold metal rungs dug into his palms, and his vision swam from the unrelenting pain. He hoped against hope that he didn't end up losing his grip and falling to the depths again — that would be plainly pathetic, let alone impractical.

When his boots finally hit the ground, he collapsed onto his back, clutching his side. The pounding in his chest matched the throbbing in his ribs, each beat a brutal reminder of how close they'd come to being torn apart.

A moment later, L landed beside him, his movements fluid and composed. Raito glared at those dark eyes as they flicked over him, lingering on the way he clutched his side. But even his wounded pride was not strong enough to keep the pain away for long, forcing him to squeeze his eyes again and take deep breaths.

The industrial corridor of before loomed around them, its vast, empty expanse eerily quiet compared to the chaos above. The air felt heavy, oppressive, as if mocking them for their retreat.

Raito pulled himself up to regain some decency, but still couldn't help leaning against the wall, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He ripped the dead EMP gun from his back and checked it out of sheer habit. The energy gauge blinked a dull, mocking red. Useless.

"Needs a recharge," he muttered bitterly, shoving it back into its holster.

"Your rib is broken." L observed, his voice infuriatingly neutral.

"Save me the deductions, will you?" Raito snapped. He meant to push off the wall and stalk down the corridor, but he found it hard even to breathe — let alone walk.

Pain lanced through his side with every inhale, and when he tried to shift his weight, it felt like a knife twisting in his ribs. His arm instinctively cradled his torso, blood-streaked fingers pressing against the source of the agony.

L stopped a few paces away, his eyes fixed on Raito's hunched form. His expression was unreadable, the way it always was, but his gaze lingered for a moment longer than usual. Raito didn't look at him. Couldn't. His chest heaved with each ragged breath, his mind a chaotic storm of shame and anger.

"Let's wait," L said, his voice quiet but firm. "You'll regenerate."

Raito tried to muster a retort, some cutting remark about how stating the obvious was hardly helpful, but the words stayed lodged in his throat. Talking hurt. Breathing hurt. Everything hurt. He settled for glaring at L instead, though the effect was diminished by the grimace contorting his face.

L didn't seem to expect an answer. After a brief pause, he turned away and began moving through the cavernous corridor, his steps eerily light on the metallic floor.

Raito stayed where he was, sliding down the wall until he was sitting, his head tilted back and eyes squeezed shut. His breaths came shallow, controlled—anything to stave off the jagged spikes of pain that flared every time his rib cage moved. He's right. he realized grimly, L's diagnosis clear from the way his chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

This is humiliating. Because of his lackluster fighting skills, his damn trembling hands and slow reactions…and because of his stupid propensity to think more about what L was doing than what was actually going on around them…now he was the one who looked weak and incapacitated, again. Humiliating.

---

Minutes crawled by. Somewhere in the distance, he heard faint beeps and the metallic tap of L's movements as he inspected nearby monitors and terminals. He must be having a blast, reading all the data without Raito to hurry him — the bastard.

The silence of the corridor was oppressive, a stark contrast to the chaos they'd just escaped. Raito's mind spun with frustration. They'd come so far, and now they were back here—worse off than before.

Gradually, the sharp edges of the pain dulled. His breathing evened out, and though the ache in his side remained, it was no longer all-consuming. He pushed himself up gingerly, every motion calculated to avoid aggravating the injury.

By the time he was standing, L had returned, his pale figure emerging from the shadows with his usual unsettling calm. His eyes flicked to Raito's side, then back to his face.

"Better?" L asked, his tone devoid of condescension.

Raito didn't answer right away. His gaze lingered on L's serene expression, the faintest flicker of something unnameable twisting in his chest. He must be judging Raito; he always was. How Raito was temperamental. How Raito was immature.

Finally, Raito nodded curtly and straightened, ignoring the twinge of pain that followed.

"Let's go," Raito said, his voice rough but steady.

L gave a slight nod and turned, matching his pace to Raito's labored one as they walked further down.

The space stretched ahead of them, dark and oppressive, broken only by the dim glow of the yellow lights above and around. As they walked, Raito's breathing evened out, and the sharp pangs in his chest dulled into a tolerable ache. His thoughts began to reorder themselves, filling the void left by adrenaline with cold, hard logic.

They were defenseless. Completely exposed. The EMP was dead, L's stun rod was gone - jammed in that staircase panel to close the hatch. And now, any semblance of preparation had been obliterated. The memory of those drones closing in, the machines activating all around them—it all churned in his mind, a relentless loop of dread. His nerves felt like taut wires, ready to snap at the slightest provocation. He noticed a heap of cables and metal debris on the side and grabbed a long scrap of metal — at least something to defend with.

Ahead of him, L moved with his usual unhurried grace, his gaze flitting between the shadowy path ahead and the faintly glowing panels embedded in the walls.

"Had fun doing your research?" Raito remarked, his tone cutting but low.

"Assuming the floor schematics are anything close to reality," L replied evenly, without looking back. "There should be more auxiliary ladders ahead."

Raito's lips pressed into a thin line. "Do they lead to the same place?"

L didn't respond immediately, and Raito caught the subtle shift in his posture—consideration, maybe even unease. Then: "We can't allow ourselves to be detected again. I suggest using Whisper."

Raito looked away, shaking his head obstinately, "That'll mess things up even more. Not a good idea. "

L stopped, turning slightly to fix Raito with one of his unreadable stares. "Are you trying to avoid telepathy with me?"

Raito's jaw clenched. He glanced at L nonchalantly, looking away again. Perhaps the best defense here was offense.

"Obviously." he said "It's distracting, possibly invasive, and I don't want to hear your bitching about chocolate all the time."

L only looked at him, clearly not convinced about the reasoning - probably suspecting Raito wanted to hide secrets…which he did, but perhaps not the kind L thought. To be fair, even Raito himself wasn't sure what secrets he wanted to hide…except perhaps the fact that his brain was in a constant state of distress and fear.

Nevertheless, Raito saw his chance in the silence, changing the topic. "Anyway, if we were going to activate something, there's options more effective than Whisper." He let the words hang for a moment, the implication clear as day: Sentinel.

He didn't even have to say it aloud before L's head tilted slightly, his dark eyes narrowing. "And that would not be invasive?."

"We're out of weapons," Raito countered, his tone sharper now. "We can't keep relying on luck."

"You don't even know what it might do to you," L interrupted. His voice was calm, but there was an edge of steel to it. "You don't know how it works, and neither do I. For all we know, it could incapacitate you entirely."

"It worked fine before." Raito snapped back, hoping he didn't sound as defensive as he felt.

"It's an unnecessary risk. To activate that and not Whisper is illogical."

Raito opened his mouth to retort, but L's gaze pinned him in place, the weight of logic cutting through his frustration. It was true — he could not excuse using Sentinel and not Whisper without revealing his true reasons.

After a moment, he exhaled sharply and turned away, muttering, "Fine." But the decision wasn't final, not in his mind. I can't let myself keep spiraling and getting injured. I'm no good to anyone like this.

"...but if push comes to shove, I will use it." He stated, unwilling to admit just how close he already was to his mental limit. Thankfully, L didn't argue further.

They pressed on in silence until they reached another ladder, its structure identical to the one they had descended earlier. L paused only long enough to give it a cursory inspection before gripping the rungs and starting upward.

Raito followed, his movements slower, his body still stiff with residual pain. The climb seemed endless once again, the faint vibrations of their bodies humming through the metal beneath his hands — keeping him constantly aware of the structure's flimsiness.

"This feels longer than the last one," Raito muttered, his voice tight with awareness of the height.

"It is," L replied from above. "I believe we're ascending beyond the Storage level."

Raito didn't voice the next question - not only was it obvious but he doubted L could answer it: if not the Storage level, then where?

The climb stretched on, the ladder disappearing into the shadows above, the faint buzz of distant machinery the only sound besides their labored breaths. Raito's ribs still ached with every pull, but he forced himself onward. Above him, L climbed steadily, his slim figure outlined faintly in the dim, ambient glow of emergency lights.

Eventually, they reached the top, the end of the seemingly endless climb marked by a hatch embedded in the ceiling. L reached it first, pausing only briefly to examine its mechanism before pushing it open. The hatch swung upward silently, and L climbed through with fluid precision.

Raito followed, pulling himself into a narrow, dimly lit corridor. The air was warm and faintly stifling, carrying the sterile tang of brand-new technology. The space was markedly different from the cavernous, industrial feel of the previous levels—lower ceilings, tighter spaces, walls lined with smooth, featureless panels.

Back to the offices, then.

Standing behind L, Raito's gaze lingered for a fraction too long on the unassuming curve of wide shoulders, the thin fabric of the loose shirt that somehow, against the soft light, became transparent — showing the outline of the slim torso underneath. There was no reason for the image to catch him so—no logic to the sudden thud of his pulse, the warmth pooling unbidden in his chest. He shook his head sharply, gritting his teeth. This again. What the hell!?. But the feeling lingered, tightening his grip on the ladder rungs.

This is why I need Sentinel, he told himself, a cold determination settling over him. I can't be thinking about L's messy clothes. Not now.

They moved forward without speaking, their steps cautious and deliberate. The atmosphere was oppressive, the faint hum of unseen machines seeming to vibrate just beneath their skin.

Then they heard it. A distant whirring sound — highly recognizable.

Raito's body tensed instinctively, his breath hitching. The noise grew louder—and faster than usual. The unmistakable green glow of a scanning beam spilled into the corridor ahead, moving with terrifying precision.

For once, it was L who pulled him aside, his apparent calmness a contrast to the swift urgency of his motions.

L walked backwards to the wall, pulling Ratio by the front of the shirt until they were virtually glued together as the beam swept closer. Raito's heart thundered in his chest, not knowing if we was annoyed more at the drone or at Ls clumsiness. He could feel the cool surface of the panel on his side and L's slight frame pressed against his front. The beam passed just inches from them, its green light illuminating their features for a split second. Raito held his breath, his heart hammering so loudly he was sure the machine would hear it.

But the whirring noise didn't recede.

Instead, the drone lingered. Its mechanical hum vibrated ominously, the scanning beam moving methodically along the walls, probing every inch of the corridor. It wasn't leaving.

Raito's fingers curled into fists, his mind racing. He couldn't afford to let it find them. If the drone detected them, it would summon reinforcements—another death trap they couldn't escape.

He thought of the weak point. The processor. Right under the right wing. If he could hit it, the drone would go down instantly.

His gaze dropped to the only "weapon" they had left: the scrap of metal he'd picked up earlier and jammed in his belt loop. It wasn't much, but it could work. If he hit his mark.

But could he? His ribs throbbed, his hands trembled faintly, and his nerves were frayed from pain and exhaustion. If he missed, even by an inch, it would be over. Alarms would ring, reinforcements would come…and they'd join the other living corpses in Angel's ditch.

He couldn't take the chance.

His hand moved to the chain around his neck, yanking it free. The cold metal of the Sentinel device dangled from its end, catching the dim light as he gripped it tightly.

L's head snapped up sharply, his dark eyes locking onto the glinting object, then Raito's eyes. He didn't speak, but his expression was unmistakable: Don't.

Raito ignored the silent warning. His thumb brushed over the button on the device.

L's hand shot out, grabbing Raito's wrist before he could press it. His fingers were firm but not harsh, his grip an unspoken plea rather than force. Their eyes met, L's gaze sharp and unwavering. He shook his head once, his silent 'No.' as clear as day.

Raito stared back at him, something primal and defiant flickering in his chest. For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then, still looking at L, he pulled his wrist free with a quick, decisive motion, and slapped the Sentinel to the side of his throat.

It adhered instantly, a soft click accompanying the activation.

The effect was immediate. After the short pain at the base of his skull, a wave of cold clarity washed over him, the throbbing in his ribs fading to inexistence. His thoughts quieted, every trace of distraction evaporating like mist. The oppressive weight of his emotions—fear, anger, that strange, inexplicable heat when L was close—all of it disappeared into a void of perfect, detached calm.

He opened his eyes and looked straight into L's again. As always, he noticed L's parted lips, L's cheekbones, the hollows under his eyes...

…but unlike always, felt nothing about it.

L's hand dropped away, his eyes narrowing as he watched the transformation. That silent gaze was condemning to be sure, but it also carried an edge of something else more unfamiliar—judgment, probably. Perhaps concern.

Raito noted this with total indifference. He felt nothing but control, a sharp, unrelenting focus that swallowed everything else. His pulse beat evenly, his body light and precise. Ah, finally. Blessed silence in his brain. This was clarity, control, perfection. If this is what it felt like to be L, normally, then the bastard really did have an advantage.

Without further ado, he leaned away from the wall slightly and checked the status of the enemy. The lingering drone had its back turned, and he could see the light of the exposed processor shining bright as day. Oh this is too easy.

Without hesitation, Raito hefted the metal rod from his belt — the motion smooth and mechanical, his aim unerring — and threw.

It took nanoseconds. The object struck the processor with a loud metallic clang, and the drone sparked violently before collapsing to the ground in a single, undignified heap. Quick. Silent. Clean.

He didn't wait to admire his work. "Let's go," he said, already stepping past the wreckage.

L followed silently, his eyes on Raito's back, the faint tension in his frame unreadable. Probably suspicious, Raito thought. Or surprised at Raito's sudden efficacy.

Guess he doesn't like getting shown up as less efficient, he thought. Oh well. He'll get used to it.

It was high time Raito lived up to his reputation as a top 'killer', anyway. He sure as hell got enough flak for it already — Might as well execute.

---

Yet another corridor, yet more darkness.

They'd continued walking for a good fifteen minutes by now, with no indication of where they were except that there were regular drone patrols and it was still the Robotics department - likely the back-office areas. Raito could feel the stealth come to him much more naturally now, demanding much less mental or physical energy than before.

The somber setting was broken only by the faint flicker of failing fluorescent lights. The air tasted stale, tinged with metal and faint ozone. Raito had brought out the empty EMP gun from his back holster. There was no frustration about its lack of ammo—only calculation. They needed better weapons, otherwise they were sitting ducks. Until then, he could use it for melee.

L moved silently beside him, his footsteps barely audible on the grated floor. His posture was stiff, his gaze darting to Raito occasionally, as though searching for something. Raito had noticed this, cataloged it, but felt no need to address it. L's behavior had become increasingly peculiar since the activation of Sentinel, but Raito blissfully ignored any and all implications of it.

They passed an office door, its glass cracked, revealing overturned desks and the remnants of long-abandoned workstations. Raito paused, scanning the area momentarily, before moving again.

"Your stride has changed," L commented suddenly from behind, his voice clipped. "Too confident."

Raito glanced back, his eyes cold. "You'd prefer I panic?"

L frowned but didn't answer.

The corridor narrowed, forcing them close again — too close. Raito's arm brushed L's as they edged forward, but there was no quickening of his pulse this time, no surge of awkwardness or discomfort. Just the faint impression of warmth through layers of fabric, as unremarkable as the distant whirr of machinery.

He focused back ahead. They still needed better weapons - where could they possibly get them?

Suddenly, the sound of skittering metal scraped from somewhere above, and Raito stopped abruptly, his arm shooting out to block L.

"Wait."

A sudden clang echoed, followed by the unmistakable whirr of drone engines.

"Drone," L whispered, his voice a low rasp.

Raito nodded once, stepping forward without hesitation. He calculated the odds quickly — without weapons, evasion was preferable. His mind mapped the corridor, identifying three potential hiding spots within seconds. But before he could signal L to take cover, the drone already emerged—a small, spindly construct with a spherical body, its green sensor-light scanning the area.

Raito moved like lightning, yanking L into a shadowed alcove without a second thought. As he lunged, his arm locked smoothly around L's waist, pulling him close, while his free hand tangled in L's hair to press his head down in a fluid motion.

"Stay." Raito murmured, his voice a low, icy command.

L's breath hitched, and for once, he looked genuinely thrown. His eyes flicked upward to look at Raito through dark bangs but he obeyed the command — not that Raito gave him a choice, his grip was pure steel.

They stayed balled up in the shadows, the closeness completely tactical. As the seconds ticked by and he waited patiently for the patrol to pass, Raito noted the texture of L's hair against his cheek — soft and slightly damp from exertion. He felt the warm tremor of L's breath against his neck. Smelled that faint scent of vanilla sugar again. All aesthetically pleasing, irrelevant details.

The drone passed by, its light sweeping the space where they had stood moments earlier. Raito's eyes tracked it, unblinking, until it disappeared into the gloom.

He released L and straightened, wiping dust off his trousers, his movements smooth and deliberate. "Clear," he said, his voice even.

L stared at him for a moment longer than necessary, his lips slightly parted as though about to speak. But he said nothing, merely standing back up and adjusting his clothes.

Raito tilted his head, curious. "Something wrong?"

"No," L replied tersely, his gaze flicking away.

Odd. But not worth dwelling on.

They pressed on, the tension in the air palpable. Raito's focus was unshakable, his steps measured, his breathing calm. L's gaze flickered to him occasionally, his usual unreadable expression now tinged with frustration. Raito classified it as irrelevant, again.

It was rather interesting, actually. Raito remembered how, without Sentinel, L always seemed to be calm and expressionless in his eyes. But now, being even calmer himself, he could clearly see the signs of stress in the other man.

They moved deeper into the labyrinth of corridors, the oppressive darkness pressing in around them. The silence was only broken by the faint hum of unseen machinery, amplifying the sense of isolation. Eventually, another hallway opened into what appeared to be a breakroom—though one long abandoned. Rusted vending machines lined one wall, their shattered glass fronts revealing faded snack wrappers and the occasional skeletal remains of drinks.

Raito paused at the threshold, his sharp eyes catching a line of cabinets inside. Weapons, maybe? With a silent signal to L, he pressed the button for the doors. They hissed open with a faint hydraulic whine, and the two slipped inside, their movements fluid and cautious. The doors closed behind them, sealing them into the stale air of the room.

The room was a graveyard of disuse. Tables and chairs were overturned, their once-sleek surfaces now scuffed and dulled. A faint, acrid smell of synthetic materials hung in the air, mingling with the cloying scent of something fruity and long past its prime.

Raito moved methodically, inspecting the cabinets. Each yielded lackluster results—game visors stacked haphazardly, odd bracelet gadgets whose utility he didn't recognize, as well as a variety of other detritus — most probably intended for leisure activities.

L, predictably, had made his way to the terminal, his fingers gliding over the touch interface with practiced ease. The faint glow of the screen illuminated his face, which was as impassive as ever, though his focus was razor-sharp.

"The danger is over. Shouldn't you deactivate it now?" L's quiet question came without preamble.

Raito turned, slightly confused by the timing. L hadn't even glanced up from the monitor—or at least, that's how it appeared.

"The danger persists," Raito replied evenly. "And so will I."

He didn't add the fact that he preferred Sentinel activated for reasons beyond practicality. The cold clarity it afforded him was… comforting, especially in a place where uncertainty clawed at every edge of his mind.

"It will always persist," L countered without looking up. "Maybe you should learn to deal with it naturally."

The comment was designed to provoke, but Raito felt no emotional reaction whatsoever. Instead, he studied L's apparent absorption in the terminal. The fake nonchalance was so thin it was almost laughable. Was this the man he usually found so impenetrable? Really?

In fact, just because Raito was no longer capable of getting triggered did not mean that he was intellectually incapable of understanding how to trigger others. And if L was susceptible to this, he would use it.

"And you," Raito remarked casually, stepping closer to peer over L's shoulder at the monitor, which displayed a three-dimensional model of a 'hospitality' robot. "Maybe you should put all that browsing to good use and locate us some firearms."

L's head snapped toward him, and for the first time, a muscle in his jaw visibly tensed. His voice remained in its usual monotone, though the edge was noticeable.

"That's what I'm doing, Raito-kun."

"Then do it faster," Raito drawled , letting his icy stare to bore into the other man. "You're slow."

He caught the micro-flexion of L's fingers before the other man turned back to the screen. The tension remained in his back, Raito noticed, but at least his hands were scrolling faster on the touchpad

Pff. Basic.

Satisfied, Raito returned to his scavenging, eventually taking the time to unscrew a metallic chair leg for use as a metal rod. He liked metal rods. Reminded him of his tennis and Bo training days. And this one was sturdy enough to serve as a makeshift crowbar or staff, though far from ideal. He hefted its weight experimentally as he crossed back to L.

"Well?" Raito prompted, standing beside him with the air of someone expecting a report.

"The Robotics department does not develop firearms per se," L began, his tone flat but brisk, "only the droids and robot units that employ them. The firearms are brought in separately and mounted or embedded into the machines on the assembly line."

"So there is a store of firearms somewhere," Raito concluded.

"Yes—in the Military wing. But considering the propensity of random machines here to awaken…" L blinked and looked away as though processing something, before looking back at Raito "I advise avoiding it at all costs."

Raito considered this for a moment. A catch-22, then. They needed guns to enter the Military wing, but the only guns available were inside. He didn't subscribe to L's injunction about avoiding it, necessarily…but it wouldn't do to appear there empty-handed.

"How about local security posts? That's where I got this one," Raito said, gesturing to the EMP slung over his back.

L entered a command, bringing up a schematic of the floor. He pointed to two locations on the map with a long, delicate finger. Raito's gaze lingered briefly, noting the length and elegant shape of L's hand, the curve of the wrist that was almost balletic in nature. It struck him as aesthetically pleasing in an abstract, detached way—something to file away as an interesting observation…But thankfully, due to Sentinel, that's as far as it went.

"There are two posts on this level," L said, his finger hovering over the labeled areas. "Assuming the space adheres to the floor plans, here: 16-BT and here: 17-BP. The latter is at the end of this corridor."

"Excellent." Raito nodded, gripping the metal rod tighter. He tested its weight again, finding it acceptable for now. "Let's go."

---

It took avoiding a few more drone patrols and passing a few more offices populated by dead computer terminals , but eventually they saw the door marked with flickering neon for "Security."

Raito turned to give L a look, his eyes flashing quickly to the red door panel. The suggestion was obvious, and L simply nodded, walking over to it quietly. Raito stood guard behind him, clocking all three sides of the T-shaped junction they were in, hoping that L's success would come before the inevitable ambush.

He didn't have to wait too long; L had gotten better. With a small beeping sound the door opened, and they huddled inside quickly, pressing the button to close it behind them.

This Security room was not much larger than the one Raito had been in before. Monitors lined one side of the room, displaying surveillance feeds from different parts of the department, while jumbles of half-operating equipment lined the shelves.

Trusting L to get his hands on the computers immediately, he busied himself with a site inspection. Most of the stuff on the shelves was useless - worn-down armour vests, visors and electric smoke dischargers that had no power left.

"According to this, there should be a central Operations room with control of energy flow for this department. It's not clear from here, however, exactly how energy is distributed—-"

"Just pin down the Operations room and we'll take it from there." Raito said simply, continuing his scavenger hunt. Since the space and machinery around them was totally unreliable, overanalyzing it would be useless.

Ahh, there we go. At least this time he didn't have to crack a safe in order to find something useful. There was a rack right in the corner — although mostly empty, save for a sleek, angular sniper rifle and another, longer weapon that looked like some kind of over-engineered crossbow. Raito grabbed the crossbow first, its lightweight frame feeling a bit too flimsy in his hands — titanium alloy? He saw L finally leave the monitors and tossed it to him, confident he would catch it — as he did indeed.

Raito pulled out the rifle, also surprisingly lightweight but sturdier in his hands.

"Better," Raito murmured, test-aiming the gun to get used to its scope. He inspected the charge level where its orange power core pulsed faintly—enough for a dozen shots, maybe less. He tinkered calmly with the magazine, learning how it operated.

L's silence nearby was unusual. Raito glanced back to meet his eyes, surprised when L immediately looked down and tweaked his own weapon. Its faint hum illuminated the sharp planes of his face — a rather strange face with that unusual paleness and accentuated angles…but again, aesthetically pleasing.

That face was frowning, though; the brow was furrowed in a way that seemed almost unsettled.

Raito blinked curiously. "What is it?"

"Just your comfort with firearms, Raito-kun. I never took you for a — what's the term — meathead."

Raito blinked again, vaguely recognizing the intention behind the barb but feeling nothing but indifference about it.

"Well, my father was in Law Enforcement, L." his tone mirrored L's neutrality. No, it even surpassed it. "I would be remiss not to learn at least the basics." he finished, smacking the magazine back into the gun, hearing the satisfying clack it made.

"Ah, of course…Souichirou Yagami-san." L allowed a second's silence before he spoke again — conspicuously innocent, as always at his most venomous. "Surely he was also the person that gave Raito-kun his keen sense of Justice."

Raito locked the rifle and looked up, his lips still in a pleasant grin. "Naturally." he answered discursively, unaffected despite recognizing just how low L was trying to strike. It was rather amusing, really. If not pathetic.

"Ready?" he asked rather amiably, nodding at the weapon in L's hands.

L scowled and nodded simply, hitting the side stop and charging the bow without even looking down at it. Raito faintly noted that, for a man who deplored 'meatheads', L was suspiciously competent.

"Move out." Raito said pleasantly, and led the way towards the exit. "And where to, by the way?" he asked, turning around just in time to see a positively sulky L grind out a quiet "Left."

Raito smiled pleasantly again. He hit the button to open the door and, after checking both sides of the corridor, motioned for L to follow.

In a faint afterthought, he logged the interaction; despite his indifference, he was still intellectually capable of evaluating it. And if he had any doubts before, now he was sure: this Sentinel thing really worked. Amazing how, even when faced with such a blatant jab about Kira, he could feel absolutely, totally nothing.

"You're different." L commented flatly from behind, as if reading his thoughts.

Raito blinked calmly, adjusting the rifle's grip as he walked. "Yes. Efficient." he said , the cool clarity of Sentinel reinforcing his conviction. He was different, and the proof was in every calculated step, every steady breath, every triggering barb that he didn't rise to. Even the faint vibration of the rifle in his hands felt like an extension of his will. He glanced back at L, a serene smile playing on his lips "As you wanted."

L said nothing, apparently silenced for now.

But before Raito could enjoy the peace too much, a loud clang echoed from somewhere far deep down the corridor. Raito immediately swivelled with the rifle at the ready, his head tilting slightly to identify the source.

"Sounded distant," L murmured from behind, his voice low. "Likely structural, but…"

Raito nodded, already moving again, faster now. They continued down the hallway, seeing how it progressively became lined with glass window panels — offices and cubicles. Behind a window, the skeletal remains of what might have been an interview room. Two coffee mugs were still on the desk, as though preserved in aspic.

They passed it quickly.

Ahead, the hallway split into two paths: one leading to another set of closed doors, the other descending into a faintly glowing red light. Raito stopped, about to ask L for further directions, when a sudden red flash caught the side of his vision.

He didn't even blink, didn't even check what it was. One second he was looking at L, the next he'd raised the rifle and fired straight at the hovering machine, moving almost as robotically as a machine himself. The weapon's kickback barely registered as a blast of energy struck the drone's lower sensor, missing its upper processor by mere inches.

"Tsk." Raito blinked at the miss, followed inevitably by the ring of sirens and the flare of red lights. This reveal was unfortunate — but that's as far as his thoughts went about it.

"Down," he said in an indifferent tone, completely devoid of urgency, as he stepped to the side and calmly leveled the rifle at the enemy again.

L dropped into a crouch, his crossbow raised, and loosed a silent bolt that zipped through the air, striking the drone's side. Sparks flew, but the machine barely staggered. Raito heard the sound of reinforcements swishing in the distance but didn't let it faze him. With a single, well-placed shot, he'd pulverized the processor under the wings, and the machine came crashing down.

Before they could run, however, another appeared close behind it, and it was larger than the usual: Heavily armored, with twin-mounted plasma cannons glowing faintly and spinning at its sides. Its red lens swiveled, locking onto them instantly.

L took a shot on its propeller, but it moved away too quickly.

Hm. This might be tricky.

Raito could see no processor to neutralize it fast, so he opted for second best —-he pulled the trigger, sending a pulse of orange energy straight into one of its cannons. The hit landed – the drone reeled, its balance thrown off as the remaining cannon fired wildly into the ceiling, raining sparks and debris.

"Weakness is underneath," L muttered, already reloading.

"Huh." Raito said, almost curiously. How did L know? In any case, he'd take him for his word.

He stepped forward, firing again, this time aiming for the drone's glass eye-sensor. The shot hit its mark, and the lens cracked, disrupting its aim as well as its balance.

Raito saw his chance. While it was busy recovering he closed in, running smoothly and then sliding down, his face within inches of its sparking undercarriage. Sure enough, its core was there — exposed pulsating like a heart in front of his eyes. He observed it for a second, somewhat curious, until he saw the cannon swivel back towards him, sucking out the oxygen around, poised to blast off his face.

Oh well.

He calmly adjusted his aim and fired without batting an eyelash.

The energy blast tore through the drone, sending a cascade of sparks into the air. He slid away wordlessly as the machine gave a final, strangled hiss before collapsing in a smoldering heap.

Raito stood slowly, brushing dust from his forearm. He felt nothing—no racing pulse, no tension, only the mechanical clarity of success. Sentinel had dulled even the possibility of fear.

A faint warmth trickled down his face, but he dismissed it as sweat and moved to check the rifle's power core. Very nice. Sharper burst than the EMP. Also silent. Although the alarms and lights were still going off around them — they should move out soon.

"Raito-kun."

L's voice cut through the silence, sharp and uncharacteristically firm. Raito turned, his expression questioning, as L stepped closer.

"Yes?" he simply asked.

L came closer, nodding vaguely toward Raito's face.

"Your face..." the tone was flat, L's eyes pinned and piercing.

Raito reached up, brushing his fingertips across his cheek. The skin there felt hot — too hot. His hand came away stained red. Huh. Imagine that. He hadn't noticed.

"It will heal," Raito said dismissively, already turning away. He resumed reloading the rifle's charge, his movements smooth, methodical.

Behind him, L stayed put.

"You didn't feel it, did you?" the tone sounded detached, but Raito still logged a faint sense of accusation underlying the tone.

"It will heal. We need to move." he repeated carelessly without stopping, his mind only occupied with getting L to move quickly.

"It's making you reckless." L stated, louder now, his voice carrying an edge of something unfamiliar— something bordering on disapproval. Raito didn't need to ask in order to know he was referring to Sentinel, yet again.

He paused, glancing over his shoulder. L's posture was stiff, his dark eyes unreadable, but there was tension in the way he held himself, the faintest twitch of his fingers as they gripped the crossbow. A quick calculation told him that logic would be quicker than debate to get L moving.

"It's making me effective. We would die otherwise." Raito said calmly, his voice steady, carrying simple factuality. "Now. We need to move." he spelled out, and motioned for L to follow as insistently as he could.

Finally, finally, L's legs moved. Raito turned back around and started a slight jog without a second thought, his mind already calculating the next steps. First they should move away from the 'crime scene' as fast as possible, then hide until the alarms turned off.

He heard L's footfalls sound steadily behind him. Good. They didn't have time to waste on debates.

First, the alarms had to turn off.

---

The alarms were not turning off.

No jog was fast enough, no hiding spot safe enough. The system on this floor had been triggered, and while Angel had yet to make her lovely presence known, something more sinister than localized security triggers was clearly fueling this continuous onslaught.

Ratio and L's movements were sharp and desperate, each corridor more hostile than the last. They took turns issuing orders—Raito dictating strategies in battle, L guiding their navigation through the labyrinthine halls. The dynamic was efficient to keep them alive, but no amount of fighting could allow for a clean route to the Operations room — the drones were just too many.

After the fourth encounter, Raito stopped running long enough to mutter, "This cannot last much longer."

L, for once, didn't argue. The problem was clear: they were out of ammo. No amount of brilliance, adrenaline, or Sentinel-induced clarity could conjure bullets from thin air.

What Sentinel had done, however, was allow Raito to discover a brutal workaround. The cannons mounted on certain drones could be detached and used as independent weapons if they weren't too damaged. It wasn't ideal—the cannons were awkward in human hands, designed for machines, not flesh and bone. The recoil was unforgiving, and worse still, the guns overheated fast, melting the skin off his palms with every trigger pull.

At least Sentinel dulled the pain. The sight of his burned hands barely registered. What did register, however, was the irritation of having his grip temporarily ruined until his body regenerated. His aim was subpar with his left hand, and while Sentinel sharpened his mind, it couldn't fix that.

Immortality, as it turned out, had its limits.

L didn't seem to share his indifference to bodily harm.

"Does rationality merit self-harm, Raito-kun?," L said sharply, his voice cutting through the chaos. He wasn't yelling—he rarely raised his voice—but the tone carried enough disapproval to make Raito glance sideways at him.

"We're out of ammo, and the drones aren't slowing down," Raito snapped coldly. His tone was sharp, but the calm overlay of Sentinel stripped it of true anger. "You're missing shots more often than you're hitting them."

L ignored the jab, his lips tightening. "Sentinel won't make you invincible, no matter how it feels."

"I don't need to be invincible. I just need to win."

The argument could have escalated, but another set of green lights illuminated the corridor ahead, silencing both of them. Raito raised the newest stolen cannon, and L moved to cover him, the rhythm of their partnership resuming as though nothing had been said.

It wasn't just the guns that kept them alive though. L's methodical mind, irritating as it could be, was proving invaluable. All that slow, obsessive reading while Raito had been strategizing earlier?.Turns out it hadn't been for nothing. L had been memorizing the vulnerabilities of the facility's robotic arsenal—weak joints, blind spots, overheating mechanisms. He could map out strategies in seconds, turning what should have been unwinnable skirmishes into manageable fights.

But even L's intellect had limits, and this floor was testing all of them.

For another ten minutes, they were relentlessly pursued through the labyrinthine office corridors, failing to breach either the second Security Room or the Operations center. Every attempt ended in retreat, outgunned and outmaneuvered.

"This seems pointless," Raito said, the calm detachment of Sentinel converting frustration into a simple observation as they ducked into a storage alcove.

"It's not pointless," L replied, already scanning their surroundings with that clinical sharpness of his. "We need access to the Operations room. Without it, we can't map the power grid."

"And if we don't?"

"Then we stay here forever."

Raito didn't argue. The pods L insisted on activating seemed almost too good to be true — Raito was coming around more and more to the opinion that they'd possibly have to blast away every single part of this infernal building before they were able to escape. But debating the matter now wouldn't help — L was intractable, and L was necessary for survival…so L's opinion would prevail.

However, fighting their way through this floor was a failure. Plan A was dead.

"Plan B, then," Raito said.

L nodded, his face inscrutable but determined. They'd discussed Plan B before. It wasn't an inspiring fallback, but it was their best chance: vents, auxiliary ladders, and long complicated routes.

It was as much a retreat as it was progress. This floor was infested with enemies, but if they could move to another, they might bypass some of the resistance and find an alternate route to the Operations room. Or die trying…again.

"Once I have control of the central terminal, I'll be able to reroute power," L said, his voice steady, betraying a conviction Raito rarely heard from him. "Perhaps even switch off certain… disagreeable elements."

"Let's hope your hacking's up to speed, then." Raito said dryly as they started back toward the ventilation system.

The vent was higher up than expected. Raito glanced at L, motioning for him to give a boost.

L knelt silently, and Raito wasted no time climbing up. He vaguely remembered how L had been 'too untrusting ' of Raito to give him a boost in their fruit-scavenging escapades at Mu. Seems like Raito had apparently taken enough hits now to be allowed the honor.

He reached the vent and tried the crowbar.

It didn't budge.

He tried again, putting more force into it. Still nothing.

Raito sighed, reaching for the inactive drone cannon strapped to his back. "And let's hope we don't meet anything for the next thirty minutes," he muttered, activating the cannon core.

The device hummed ominously as he aimed it at the vent cover. Even with Sentinel muting the pain, he could feel his right hand blister and burn under the intense heat of the cannon's casing.

"Rai—" L's voice cut off as the blast erupted.

The recoil threw Raito back unceremoniously, and he hit the opposite wall, then the floor with a dull thud. The acrid scent of burning flesh and scorched hair filled his nostrils as shards of the vent cover rained down. He exhaled heavily and glanced at his hand. It wasn't a pleasant sight.

He looked away. It would heal.

L stood over him, his expression blank. His gaze lingered on Raito's injuries, but if there was any emotion in his eyes, it was buried too deep to see.

"I'm up to speed," L said simply, his tone cool. For a moment, Raito thought his eyes looked even darker than usual, an inky void of mystery.

"Good," Raito said, a satisfied smile breaking across his lips. He glanced up at the jagged vent opening. A regular pull-up was no longer an option.

He turned to L, his tone almost conversational. "A hand, please?"

---

The vents were a labyrinth, long and claustrophobic. Every movement was a calculated risk, the cramped space amplifying every creak of metal and distant hum of machinery. Raito's grapple hook—a crude contraption L had fashioned from a broken machine leg—dug into the vent walls with each pull. He used it in place of his injured right hand, the sharp tip sinking into the metal with mechanical precision as he crouched and climbed.

L followed closely, his breathing sharp and uneven compared to Raito's calm, methodical rhythm. When Raito paused to let him catch up, he noticed the tension in L's frame, his fingers gripping the edges of the vent with more force than necessary. That's right, he recalled, minor claustrophobia. He was perplexed that he had even doubted it before — now with the cold observation of Sentinel, it was utterly obvious.

"Keep moving," Raito said quietly. His voice was calm, almost indifferent, but his pace quickened.

The tension was suffocating. When a faint clattering sound echoed from a vent ahead, followed by the soft, unmistakable whir of machinery. Both of them froze.

Raito's eyes narrowed as he tilted his head toward the sound, gesturing to L, who gave a single nod of acknowledgement. They backtracked and found another junction.

In the end they had to change directions twice, avoiding suspicious sounds and lights filtering through the grates. At one point, they reached a narrow ladder that stretched endlessly both up and down. Raito didn't even flinch at the height.

"I'll go first" L said, his voice lingering at Raito's flimsy hook.

"No," Raito replied. "If something's waiting at the top, it'll kill you first." He didn't wait for an argument, pulling himself up with mechanical efficiency.

The climb was excruciatingly slow — the next hatch was quite far above. Each movement sent faint vibrations through the metal, and every rung felt like an invitation for whatever hunted them to draw closer. By the time they reached another vent shaft, the faint echo of distant alarms had grown louder, blending with the hum of machinery.

The process repeated. Forward, down, forward, up. At times, they had to double back entirely, the routes blocked or too exposed. L's directions, based on the schematics he'd memorized, were precise but exhausting to follow — not so much for Raito, who if anything was replenishing energy — but definitely for L himself.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they dropped into the Operations room.

The space was wide, its walls lined with banks of cracked monitors flashing erratic streams of data. A large central console dominated the space, surrounded by exposed wiring and half-melted terminals that spat weak sparks into the air. The overhead lighting was dim, the faint glow casting long shadows.

Sealed doors lined the far walls, reinforced and unyielding, their surfaces glinting faintly. The air smelled faintly of ozone and burnt plastic. Somewhere beyond the room, the sound of machinery clanged and echoed, the heavy movements of the enemies still lurking outside. At least there was no sign of blaring alarms or red lights — it seems their long sojourn into the vents had given this level enough time to deactivate.

L moved immediately to the central console, brushing aside debris and running his fingers over the cracked keyboard. His expression darkened as he began typing, lines of alien code flickering on the shattered screens.

"It's connected to the central grid, but control is fragmented," he muttered, more to himself than to Raito. "If we want to reroute power to the pods, we'll need to override multiple nodes—relay points scattered throughout the facility."

"How many?" Raito asked simply.

L didn't look up, his fingers still flying across the keys. "At least seven. But their locations aren't centralized. They'll be spread across different floors." He paused, glancing at Raito. "Which means splitting up."

Raito frowned, his sharp eyes scanning the dimly lit room. "Why?"

L didn't respond immediately, still processing. "The switch commands pass through this terminal, so one of us must stay here to handle decryption and coordination while the other activates the nodes manually."

"You're staying here." Raito stated immediately, not as a question but as a declaration.

L looked up, meeting his eyes with a strange expression.

"Yes," he said at last. Was he skeptical? Apologetic, perhaps. Although why would he be?

Raito nodded, sparing a glance at his right arm. It was almost completely healed, functional again. As for the missing shirt sleeve—overrated anyway.

L was already back to typing, his fingers flying furiously over the keyboard. "This is heavily encrypted," he muttered again. "Very heavily. And coded exclusively in their particular language."

For a moment, Raito wondered if hesitation was etched into the other man's features.

"Can you handle it?" he asked, cutting straight to the point.

L looked up again, and this time Raito recognized the blank look of dead certainty.

"Yes."

Raito believed him.

---

The corridor was quiet, the hum of dormant machinery almost lulling in its monotony. Raito moved steadily, his senses attuned to every shadow and flicker of light. Sentinel sharpened his awareness, making him sensitive to temperature shifts and electromagnetic pulses – but its true gift was its mental silence. The absence of distraction, of pain, of fatigue, made him feel untouchable.

And speaking of useful tech, L's mental voice broke through the stillness, clear like a bell through the Whisper telepathy. "You'll need to bypass the first grid node before moving on. It's ahead, behind the second door on your right. Likely reinforced. "

"Roger that," Raito responded with his mind, his lips not moving at all. "I'm on my way." He perused the environment, calculating. Getting to the node location was one thing; breaking through vaulted steel doors without weapons and with absolute stealth was quite another..

"Are you taking care of it or should I pick up some tools?" he asked, assuming L would understand the subtext.

"I'll authenticate you from here; just make sure there are no enemies in sight."

Raito nodded briefly, not needing to spell out his agreement. His mind briefly lingered on Whisper and Sentinel. It was fortunate they'd managed to adapt, using some of Angel's technology against her. And it was good that L had finally agreed to activate the telepathy feature —for a moment, it had seemed like he wouldn't.

The memory slipped in vividly:

"It's obvious," Raito said, leaning against a terminal as he adjusted the earpiece. "We'll turn on the telepathic function. No noise, no risk of being overheard. Perfect."

L tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "You said before that the telepathic function was reckless and inefficient."

"I was wrong," Raito replied bluntly. "I'm thinking straight now. It's fine."

L's eyes narrowed faintly, his gaze probing. "Are you, though?" The question hung between them, heavy and deliberate. Then L shook his head. "No. We're not using telepathy."

Raito straightened, frowning. "Why not? It's the logical choice."

"The technology is intrusive," L said, his tone calm but laced with something close to unease. "And extensive use may have side effects. You should consider that."

"Sentinel hasn't had any bad side effects," Raito countered, crossing his arms.

"Yet," L said quietly. The single syllable was enough to make Raito pause, but only for a moment. He watched L's suspiciously blank expression.

"Do you know something I don't?"

L just looked at him, his dark eyes unblinking. Raito didn't feel fear or anger, just curiosity.

"...what have you seen, L?"

Again, L didn't answer directly. His gaze lingered on Raito for a beat too long until, finally, he opened his mouth: "Just that taking breaks from it would be advisable."

"We don't have time for breaks," Raito said, the coldness of absolute rationality coloring his voice. "You know that. And regarding Whisper — I'll be at worse risk if I'm stuck and can't get to you."

The logic was irrefutable. L gazed at Raito silently for a long moment before lowering his gaze to the bracelet around Raito's wrist.

A few moments later, looking almost pained, he nodded.

The memory faded, leaving Raito with a twinge of unease. He wondered, briefly, what it was that L had learned—or read—that made him so wary of Sentinel's 'side effects.' But he dismissed the thought almost immediately. Whatever it was, he knew — and he knew that L knew — that it wouldn't have stopped him from using it anyway. They needed it to survive. He needed it.

…As well as firearms.

"L," Raito said telepathically, the connection seamless, his thoughts as brisk as his pace. "Any nearby weapon stashes?"

There was a pause before L answered, his reluctance bleeding through even in thought. "The secondary Security hub is approximately thirty meters east from your position. I can try to hack the door remotely."

"You do that." Raito began moving automatically in the indicated direction, appreciating the total clarity of the mental connection.

"Shouldn't you activate the node first?" L asked, and Raito was too desensitized by Sentinel to decipher what the emotional static was behind the words. Disapproval? Alarm?

"Activation could trigger security countermeasures." Raito said simply, and knew it was logical by the fact that L did not argue further.

For a moment, the thought occurred to him: Was this why L hadn't wanted telepathy active? To avoid these kinds of questions? To stop me from being 'reckless'? It was an interesting notion. Would fit L to be manipulative, even if he meant well.

But it didn't matter. If that was the reasoning then L was overthinking it. Everything was fine.

He quickened his pace, Sentinel keeping his pulse flat no matter what kind of faint machine sounds echoed here and there down the empty corridors. The sirens and alarms on this floor had finally stopped after they'd stayed huddled in the Operations room for a while, but that did not mean the danger was over. The air still seemed to vibrate with tension. This was only a short reprieve, Raito was sure, until it was time for the inevitable rematch.

"Unlocked." L's mental voice sounded in a few seconds and, if Raito could have felt anything, it would have been glee. His eyes narrowed as he walked.

"Excellent."

---

The first Power Node had been activated without any interference. Despite Raito's reservations, there had been no countermeasures, no screaming drones coming to ambush him. In fact, part of him thought it was too easy.

The node terminal had come to life with a soft hum, green indicators rippling across its surface as if in silent approval of his presence. It would seem that, at least for now, he was safe from danger. Not that he wasn't ready for it — the nearby Security room had proved to be a literal treasure trove.

Raito had sifted through the shelves and lockers with clinical efficiency, Sentinel lending precision to every movement. He found what he needed—a UV visor for his right eye, its interface projecting a crisp digital overlay of the terrain ahead. It mapped motion with ruthless accuracy, marking potential threats as pulsing red blips. It even displayed schematics of the labyrinthine corridors, analyzing distance and dimension metrics..

The real prize, however, was the plasma weaponry. Two pistols, compact but powerful, with extra energy packs stowed neatly beside them. They were equipped with integrated silencers, their barrels streamlined to ensure his shots would go unheard by anything outside the immediate vicinity. For all the facility's cold hostility, it had inadvertently armed him well.

Now, as Raito moved through the hallways towards the second node, the sense of unease returned. This part of the floor was labeled Residential Appliances—a showroom of sorts, designed to flaunt an array of domestic robotic models. If the sterile corridors had felt lifeless, this section was eerily different.

The lighting was dimmer here, casting long shadows across the aisles of dormant machines. They seemed similar to the ones he had seen in that hellish warehouse, although here they were shiny and new, placed in flattering lighting.

Mannequins, dressed in pristine uniforms, were propped next to the models they advertised. Cooking multi-machines stood poised behind countertops, frozen mid-action, their chrome appendages ginting faintly in the low light. Cleaning droids rested on their docks, their compact frames folded neatly into wall alcoves. There were even child-sized robots stationed near a play area, apparently capable to serve as tennis or game playmates — their painted faces frozen in uncanny smiles.

The silence was palpable, broken only by the soft tread of his boots. Raito advanced cautiously, plasma pistols raised. The UV visor scanned the room, feeding data into his peripheral vision—so far, no movement.

L's voice broke the silence in his ear, calm but distant. "The lock to the second node is now released."

Raito didn't respond. He didn't need to. The visor marked the route clearly — very close, now — and his focus remained on the machines.

As he passed a row of mannequins, the air seemed to shift. A faint, mechanical whir reached his ears, so quiet it was almost imperceptible. He stopped, turning his head sharply. The visor registered nothing unusual.

He took another step.

Behind him, a soft click echoed — a sound almost too 'normal' and non-mechanical.

Raito whirled, pistols raised. For a split second, he thought he saw one of the mannequins turn its head, as though it had been looking at him. Wait…

…had that hand been raised like that before?

He wasn't sure.

For a moment, the room was silent again, save for the faint hum of machinery fading into the distance.

He quickened his pace, paying closer attention to the stances of the robots around. The node wasn't far. He reached the small terminal embedded in the wall and quickly input the code L had provided. A green ripple spread across the screen as the node activated.

"Well done, Raito-kun," L's voice came again. "Two down. One to go."

Raito gave a faint nod, even though L couldn't see him. He turned to leave, but a sudden whir drew his attention.

An auxiliary engineering droid, squat and utilitarian, emerged from a hidden compartment in the far wall. Its movements were purposeful, its tools spinning into readiness—a drill, a claw, a cutting torch.

Raito fired immediately, striking the droid twice. The first shot dented its casing, and the second sent it crashing into a terminal. But as it collapsed, its drill arm swung wide, catching Raito's arm with a glancing blow.

Metal grated against fabric and flesh, and Raito barely registered the contact. Sentinel filtered out the sensation entirely, leaving only a faint awareness that something had struck him.

"Raito-kun?" L's mental voice inquired. "What were those noises?"

"Not a concern." Raito replied evenly, lowering his pistols. He flexed his arm experimentally. No visible damage.

"But what were they?" L repeated. Raito didn't immediately answer, focused on more pressing matters than L's curiosity — like reloading his pistols.

He stepped towards the door, his pace steady, but as his hand reached the panel, a sharp sting suddenly pierced his arm.

He froze.

The sensation was jarring—hot, insistent, and entirely unexpected. He glanced down, his brow furrowing as he saw the faint tear in his sleeve, the skin beneath marked with an angry, shallow puncture.

"Raito-kun?" L's voice came again, clearly tinged with concern now. He must have felt something, or heard some thought — or maybe just suspected something. But in any case…

"Is everything all right?"

Raito blinked, the pain fading as quickly as it had appeared. But it had been there. He had felt it.

Right?

"Raito?"

He hesitated, unsure of what to say — or think - in response.

---

TBC as soon as possible, hopefully within the next 20 days, in the next part:... Erebus IV: Crash!

and PS: if you do happen to review, please let me know what your favorite part was in this chapter. If you show me yours, I'll show you mine! :D