Alone in his bedroom, Light watched as the first rays of dawn peeked over the horizon outside his window. This was the day.

The day that he would win, and finally become God of a new world.

As long as everything went according to plan, that was. He had spent the whole night going over in his mind every detail with agonizing scrutiny, to assure himself that he had not missed a single thing. That he would not fail again, despite the unexpected hiccups which had occurred along the way.

Such as Takada and his father both dying. True, he approved of the former's passing due to the circumstances, and he had been prepared for the latter's death at some point. With Takada, he had actually discreetly written her name himself onto the scrap of Death Note paper hidden in his watch, while on the very car ride over to "rescue" her. Along with her name he had written one other, single kanji character—"fire." Had he not been restricted in movement due to the rest of the Task Force being there in the car with him, he would have written down more specific details, which was no doubt what Mikami ended up intuitively doing for him. His "hand of justice" had done very well, beating him to the punch and ensuring that any evidence left on Takada's person was completely eliminated by the time they had arrived.

However, Light was wary of whoever it was who had kidnapped Takada. Was it one of L's agents? He certainly wouldn't be surprised if that were the case; although given the notoriety of Kira's name at the moment, the chances of it being someone else were fifty-fifty. If it was an associate of L's, however, could it be at all related to the mysterious new ninth person who would be joining them at the warehouse today?

He hadn't argued when L volunteered to replace Soichiro Yagami with one of his own associates. Honestly, it saved Light a whole lot of trouble. Matsuda had already been moaning that they were all dead because Kira's email specifically said nine. Mogi had seemed in agreement, and Aizawa had that look on his face that implied he was about to suggest dramatically altering the plan. L's suggestion had gotten Light out of being stuck between a rock and a hard place. After all, he couldn't be the one to tell them that they didn't have to worry about it. He could only play along with their anxiety. And they'd been on the verge of reaching out to Kira to propose an alternative meeting. If that had happened, then he'd have to come up with an entirely new plan, with a whole new set of factors at play that may or may not guarantee his victory. And Light was too close to that victory to want to change course now.

Still, a sliver of doubt niggled at him. This new person was also a new, unexpected factor. An arguably negligible one, but what bothered him was that there were multiple unexpected, arguably negligible factors that had been introduced all at once. Takada's kidnapping, his father's premature passing, a new person. It all made him decidedly nervous, which he hated. He wanted to feel confident, to know that he would win. That's how he had felt on the day L had died. On the day he was supposed to have won already. And he would have too, if not for the existence of Julie Amachi. Or rather...Miss Jenkins.

Light gnashed his teeth. It was irrational, perhaps, but now that his father's death had occurred outside the parameters of his expectations, he pinned the cause of his grief on that girl. He had been prepared for his father to die today, along with the others, in a mass death that could have been framed as heroes falling in battle—a tragic event which would have, for him at least, been overshadowed by the sealing of his own victory. But instead, his father had been taken out by a stray bullet in an unplanned event that had severely threatened his own plans—and he hadn't been ready for it. As such, he did feel grief, and he wanted someone to blame for it. And he was sure that somehow, one way or another, that Jenkins woman had something to do with the chaos raining down on his plan.

Speaking of his father's death, there was something else that had been bothering him about it...

"What's this?" Ryuk's gravelly voice rasped from the window ledge where he had suddenly alighted. "You look...sad, or something." The notion seemed to delight the shinigami. "Are you about to cry? I usually like to have apples to snack on while I watch and enjoy the show of human tragedy, so could you—"

Light sliced a hand sharply through the air to cut him off. "Shut up, Ryuk."

Ryuk tsk-ed. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood. You just might regret being that rude to a shinigami one day," he said cheerfully.

Light narrowed his eyes at the demon and turned away. "We've already established that you'll write my name in your Death Note when it's time for me to die. But you wouldn't want to miss out on any fun until that time comes, would you?"

"Heavens no, God forbid," said Ryuk mockingly, then laughed at his own joke. Light, on the other hand, stiffened. "Now, what's this?" said Ryuk curiously, cocking his head at Light and sniffing the air. "There's something about you, I don't like the smell of it. It's almost like—" He wrinkled his nose and took a step back. "You having second thoughts, human?"

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"What makes you think that?" Light snapped. "I was just thinking about something, that's all. My dad dying, if you must know."

Ryuk gave another haughty sniff. "Is that all? I mean, far be it for me to judge you on having such measly human emotions as grief—honestly, I think you're more mad about your plan not going perfectly than anything else—but there's something else that's oddly...contemplative about you."

Light gave a deep sigh and crossed the room back to his desk, where he sank into his chair and folded his arms. "It's something my dad said, right before he passed," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's been bothering me ever since. He shouldn't even have been conscious, let alone able to talk."

Ryuk went very still, his already terrifying features darkening even further like a storm cloud. "Oh? And what was it he said?"

Light waved a hand, not paying much mind to Ryuk's change in mood. "I've heard of this kind of thing before," he went on dismissively. "Old people seeing a light when the end comes, or talking to a deceased loved one, or what not. Probably their lives flashing before their eyes, that whole thing."

The shinigami's tone was flat. "Probably."

Light leaned back, gazing up at the ceiling. "First time I witnessed it for myself, though," he murmured. "My dad, he was mumbling about—some person in the room with him, or something. Said they were glowing. Don't know who it was he thought he saw. My grandparents and aunts and uncles are all still alive."

Ryuk was silent.

"I couldn't make out everything he was saying," Light continued. "I just heard him say, 'Yes,' and then it sounded like he agreed to go with that person. A couple minutes after that, he was gone." He remained in thoughtful silence for a minute, then swiveled to Ryuk with a scowl. "Well? You obviously know something about it—which makes sense, seeing as how you're from the spirit world. So spill it. It's been distracting me all night, and I could do with some peace of mind before we head to the warehouse."

Ryuk said nothing for a long moment, his expression frozen in its usual eerie gaze, but tight somehow. Then suddenly, he gave a long, loud laugh. It sounded forced at first, before giving way into genuine guffaws.

"Oh, you're sharp, aren't you Light?" he said between sniggers. "There's no use being coy with you. You'll pick up on any little thing, so I might as well be straight with you, and you'll just have to make your own decision. But isn't that how it's always been with you humans, since the beginning of time?" He spit over his shoulder in disgust. "I'll tell you why you're feeling so hot and bothered right now, Light. It's something called holy conviction. What you're feeling right now is what you creatures might call the fear of God."

Light's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Yep." Ryuk crossed his legs in midair and leaned his chin in one claw, giving Light a hard look. "Smells just as bad as true love, burns the nose even worse. Thank the Shinigami King that you've only got about a smidgeon of it right now." He stretched his mouth in an impossibly wide, bitter smile that displayed his full array of sharp teeth. "What can I say? The big man upstairs never does like to play fair. You and I already made a deal, and he still tries to butt his nose into things. One snap of his fingers, one change of your mind, and it could all fall apart right here, right now. Tch." He spread his arms wide. "How is that fair, am I right? And he calls himself a just God."

"Wait a minute." Light rubbed at a temple. "What do you mean, it could all fall apart? Are you saying that I could lose the power of the Death Note?"

Ryuk leaned forward. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

Light's eyes widened. "But how—"

Ryuk chuckled at the look of panic on his face. "Oh, don't worry, little Light. It's all your choice...for the most part anyway. Comes down to whether or not you choose to stick to your plan."

Light gave Ryuk a wary look. "I don't understand. If there's something standing in the way of the plan working, then you better tell me now, Ryuk—and tell me clearly," he added, his voice taking on a menacing tone.

"Whoa, whoa," protested Ryuk, holding up both hands. "No one here is standing between you and your delightfully psychotic plan...not me or the Big Guy, at least. Just those other measly humans. All I'm saying is that the other side—" He pointed one clawed finger upwards. "Is giving you a chance to change your mind."

"How is that?"

"Oh, come on," Ryuk groaned. "Don't make me spell it out. The bright figure, your father testifying about it when he was on death's door, you not being able to get it out of your head...Ugh. It's the oldest trick in the book. But more humans fall for it than we shinigami care to admit, and then all the time and energy we've invested in you insects goes to waste."

Light stared at the demon. "So you're saying...that if I changed my mind now—then our deal would be off, and you'd no longer write my name into your notebook when I die?"

"Yep."

"Which means...I wouldn't automatically go to the shinigami realm once I die."

Ryuk grimaced. "It wouldn't be as guaranteed anymore, yes."

Light's eyes narrowed once more. "Why would you even tell me any of this?"

Ryuk shrugged. "Like I said, there's no use hiding it from you. It's always been your decision. And also..." He leered. "I guess I've grown pretty confident in you being able to make the smarter choice."

Light measured Ryuk. "Oh? And what happens to me in this life if I do back out now?"

"Well, the deal would be off, so you'd lose the Death Note and all of its power, obviously." Ryuk tapped his chin thoughtfully. "And then possibly end up in prison, if those two marked ones are still after you." He grinned. "I mean, it's not like what you've done could be easily forgiven and forgotten at this point. You might even end up agreeing...seeing as how you'll lose your memories again and turn back into that docile little lamb your were."

There was a long moment of silence. Finally, Light swiveled in his seat to face the desk, turning his back on Reap as he opened a drawer.

"To hell with that," he growled, pulling out the gun his father had given him and loading it with a sharp click. Standing, he holstered it to his belt. It was time to go.

Ryuk grinned from ear to ear. "Exactly," he cackled.