Chapter Text
As the pieces all fell together, Rem couldn’t have been angrier.
She glares scathingly at the smirking brunette in front of her, realizing that he had planned for her murder-suicide attempt on Ryuzaki long before he had even given up possession of the Death Note. Now, it was only a matter of time before Misa was captured and convicted for being Kira, and all she can do to prevent it is die.
Rem decides she hates Light Yagami. She hates him more than she hates the vast waves of meaningless matter that build the universe, more than the life she is forced to live.
She also decides that she will not willingly make herself, nor Misa, pawns in Kira’s schemes. At any cost, there had to be a way out of this.
If Light Yagami dies, nobody will be on Misa’s side… and if Ryuzaki lives, he will most definitely imprison her… Worst of all, Misa wouldn’t be able to live on without Light…
Was it worth the risk? The Shinigami felt hopeless.
So, she pays a visit to the one thing in the universe that gave her hope.
Rem phases through Misa Amane’s walls, welcoming herself back into the gothic haven the blonde calls home. The woman is lounging on her bed, eagerly writing names into the Death Note as she listens to American pop on her bejeweled radio.
“Misa.”
The woman springs up, smiling as her eyes catch the looming Shinigami in her room. The newly emerged God attempted to ignore the other presence in the room, who was chowing down on an apple with an interested glint in his eyes.
“Remmy! I thought you were staying with Light at the HQ?” Misa leaps up to pull Rem into a hug.
“I was… but I learned something.”
She sweetly tilts her head; Ryuk does the same, but it’s a monumentally less cute look on him.
“Hm?”
“He’s using you, Misa. Using us.” Rem grits out.
“...I know that, Remmy. I know, but I already said it’s okay! Misa Misa will get Light to see reason one day!” She exclaims, clapping together her hands in excitement.
“ No. You won’t.”
“Huh? What’re you saying?”
Misa easily tears up, looking at the other woman in distress. Rem knows that the girl is fragile, so enthralled in the worlds of others that she never found a home in her own. The blonde lives for attention, and feels meaningless without it.
“Do you really want this? To be used by a vicious man when there’s much better out there for you?” Rem tries.
“...You’re wrong. Light will love me. He has to.” Her voice wavers toward the end.
“His love is a poison, Misa. Please, see reason.”
“I don’t care!”
“ Please.”
“Light is all I have! With Kira, rotten criminals will disappear forever! Then, we can be happy, and be a normal couple!”
Rem feels an unfamiliar tugging at her skeletal chest, something reaching up through her ribcage and out through her mouth.
“ I love you, Misa Amane.”
That makes the girl pause, and Ryuk bursts out into wheezing laughter.
“...Huh?”
“I love you. Don’t let that man ruin you, and please continue on living despite everything. You are the loveliest woman in the world.” Rem sighs the words out, resigned to her fate.
Shinigamis are not affectionate creatures. They are jaded, weary, and downright immoral; typically the antithesis of humanity. Throughout her many unfortunate years, Rem was the epitome of her breed. She killed as she should and watched humans idly, the only indicator of any feeling still festering inside her being the growing confidence in allowing her lifespan to peter out. She was just as tired as the rest of them, but much more self-controlled than that nuisance Ryuk.
Misa Amane sparked her back to life.
The beautiful young woman was absolutely tragic, destined for calamity wherever she went. The number floating above her head exposed the terrible truth of the girl’s ephemeral existence, like a rose blooming days before a devastating winter. Upon meeting her, Rem could see exactly what had made Gelus so starstruck. She was gorgeous and kind in spite of her fate, bubbly and determined when it mattered most. Misa Amane also happened to have a few screws loose, forming a disposition akin to a beautiful cannon made of stained glass; adorned with murals so exquisite that a thousand ships would sail to have it. Despite a flicker of interest in the young lady’s wellbeing, she never would have expected to meet the same fate her fellow Shinigami had.
It was around the time that Misa met Light when she realized she had fallen for the girl, and that the girl had fallen for something harsher than death. She went along with the boy’s numerous schemes in hopes of protecting Misa’s fragile heart, but she had an inkling it would lead her to the precipice she stands at now.
With a final rake of her gaze over the blonde’s figure, Rem turns to leave for the last time.
“...Wait.”
The Shinigami stands listlessly.
“You love me?” Misa continues cautiously.
“Yes. Always.”
“...I’m scared, Rem. I don’t wanna be alone.” She whimpers, bringing her hands to her face.
“I can make it all better. I can make it all go away.” Rem can’t stop herself from pleading with the woman again.
The room feels more silent than it should be, in spite of the slowly fading sound of a nearly-finished sad love song and Ryuk’s laughter filling their ears.
“Rem. Remmy.”
Misa Amane cracks, sobbing into her hands. Her mascara runs down her cheeks the same way it has countless times before– and Rem has made her decision.
“Live, Misa. Trash that accursed thing and live.”
The Shinigami flies away from the girl’s room: her Death Note clutched protectively in her hand.
–
“So… are we closing the Kira case?”
Nobody had the heart nor patience to respond to the fidgety Matsuda Touta, all too winded by the events of the previous eight months to spare a single thought for the twisted case that befell them.
It’s been eight months since Kira died and his murders ceased, and eight months since the onset of L’s depression.
He knew Light Yagami was the culprit– he always had– but the fun was in trying to prove it. The other man was an expert at tampering with vital evidence and covering his tracks, fooling all the people he had to in order to get away with his egregious crimes. The hunt was thrilling, more thrilling than any murder mystery that L had ever been assigned to.
That’s why, when he found Light Yagami’s corpse bent over the front desk at the HQ, his heart hammered in his chest.
He hadn’t foreseen this. Not in the slightest.
His thoughts were almost, almost drowned out by the mourning wails of Soichiro Yagami and the rest of the task force, who were frantically trying to calm the older man down and search for any clues.
L couldn’t take his eyes off the deceased man in front of him, a ball of anger surging to life in his chest. How had their game been cut so short? What was he to do now? How dare Light Yagami leave him hanging off a cliff like this?
There’s absolutely no way in hell Light planned this, he thought. The other man wouldn’t have even taken the eye deal, so there was no reason for him to commit suicide at this point in the investigation– not when he was so close to winning that even L could feel it.
Was it the Shinigami? Where is she?
He stood at the door restlessly, biting the nail on his thumb clean off.
Who killed Kira?
L stomped out of the room, leaving the grieving men to the cleanup of Light’s body. He was out for answers, and maybe blood.
In the few days of waiting for Misa Amane’s inevitable reappearance, he had relentlessly searched for any sign of the rogue Shinigami– Rem, he remembered– hiding elsewhere. Of course, searching for a God of Death was no easy feat, and he turned up empty-handed every time.
His desperation was temporarily sated by the rigorous questioning of a broken-hearted Misa Amane, who appeared on the HQ’s doorstep completely oblivious to her boyfriend’s untimely death.
When she was informed of the happenings, L watched the girl burst into tears unsympathetically. He searched the falling salty droplets for any trace amounts of deceit, combing through oceans of grief all around him for a single seashell of justice. Perhaps closer to injustice, in this case.
Finally, this was his chance for closure.
“Misa Amane, did you orchestrate the murder of Light Yagami?” L relentlessly interrogated the girl.
“No! I would never!” She wailed.
“Then, were you aware of any events that may have led up to the murder of Light Yagami?”
“No! No, no, no, no!”
“Pay attention. You know I had suspected the two of you as the first and second Kiras, so why go out of your way to kill him?” He pressed.
“I didn’t! It was Remmy!” She broke.
Remmy? Does she mean the Shinigami?
L poured over the new information the girl disclosed, pulling on his bottom lip habitually.
“What do you mean– the Shinigami?! Why would it kill my son?!” Chief Yagami bellowed in rage, knocking over the chair he was sitting in.
“Chief– please, calm down! We can’t find anything out like this!” Aizawa rationalized with the man with his hands on his shoulders.
The pondering man ignored the din around him, reimagining all the interactions he had with the Shinigami in order to piece together why it would have snapped and murdered Kira.
Clearly, it didn’t have a problem with Kira’s motives, otherwise he would’ve been dead long before the investigation had reached the point it had.
Something preceded the murder, something that he must have been present for. The Shinigami had been with L for the majority of the time following the murder notebook falling into the task force’s hands, sans a few intervals.
Since Light Yagami was Kira– he had to be– he must have threatened something dear to the God. What could that thing be? It had to be mortal, since Kira’s only speciality was inflicting death on his victims.
It had to be human.
His eyes locked onto Misa Amane’s, sharp black voids meeting glassy brown seas.
“Misa Amane, did the Shinigami known as Rem have a certain… affection… for you?” He treaded carefully with his words.
At this, the girl wailed once more, and L knew he had hit the jackpot.
He swiveled his chair around to petulantly sweep his gaze over the disheveled task force, speaking bluntly.
“Rem killed Light Yagami. He was a threat–”
Matsuda cut off the detective.
“What? It killed him over a crush?!” He screamed, face drawn up in a scorning look.
Soichiro Yagami yelled out in frustration and pounded the desk, spitting blasphemous curses at various Gods before being hurriedly silenced by Watari and Aizawa. L scrunched up his nose at the interruption and blatantly false deduction.
“No, not exactly. It was predominantly because Light Yagami was Kira.”
The room goes silent for a moment before bursting into noise once again; with the older Yagami loudly threatening the head detective in rage and the others rebuking him for his claim.
“The boy just died, L! Are you really gonna disturb his memory like this?!--”
“--Light was the perfect son! You rotten, dirty scoundrel of a detective, why–”
“Please, sir, settle down! You’ll startle Misa–”
Watari approached L, settling a hand on his shoulder; the man’s calm presence was a soothing balm for the irritated detective’s short temper. He was no happier about this than any of the other men.
Misa slammed her palms on the desk, tears spattering over its surface.
“He’s right. Light was Kira, and I was the second. Here’s my Death Note to prove it.”
Her voice was chillingly soft, wavering as she reached into her purse and threw the notebook across the desk. Silence engulfed the room once more at the revelation; a largely quiet Ryuk finally cackling at the absolute despair it was drenched in.
L kicked the table over, and history was made at the Japanese Task Force’s HQ.
–
Much to the horror of the task force members, in the following weeks and months, Kira’s killings had completely ceased. It grew obvious that Misa Amane had told the truth, and that Kira had been with them right from the start.
L eventually publicized the death of Kira and authorized the congregation of evidence found during the investigation, choosing to illegally withhold Light’s notebook and surrender Misa’s in its place.
The reason for this decision isn’t one he would ever admit, but there was one.
He couldn’t let it go just yet.
The thing that gave both him and Light Yagami purpose.
It was corrupt, he’s aware, but corruption never mattered to him in the first place. Dirty schemes always got him his way in the end.
As for Misa Amane, the second Kira, she was secretly placed under witness protection until the task force could confirm the complete cessation of Kira-related deaths. During this time, she was placed into mandatory mental health services and prepared for potential imprisonment– not that it seemed to matter to her.
L had multiple talks with the girl during her confinement, openly discussing the plans Light had conjured up to get the task force off his tail. The detective never ceased to be baffled by the untold truths that hid right under his nose, and it was his only source of thrill since the man’s death.
In return for these conversations, he formed an agreement with the woman.
Misa Amane, once rehabilitated, could go free. She would not have to relinquish control of the Death Note in order to keep her memories, but she would be provided no access to it.
The information that there ever was a second Kira was withheld from the government, and L was officially finished with the Kira case.
He wasn’t enthused at the new addition to his undefeated record. Not even when Watari tried to coax him out of his depression with sweets.
L was woefully bored, and he sulked about this fact all on the way to his final conversation with Misa. The blonde had requested another meeting with him before her release, and it’s not as if he had anything better to do.
He slipped out of the car and thumped his way inside the rehab building, treading past rooms filled with various sensory equipment and monitoring devices. It was a top-class facility, providing solace to numerous ex-criminals.
Misa was a patient on the highest floor, requiring the utmost care and attention due to the severity of her case. The details of which weren’t disclosed to the practitioners, but at L’s suggestion, they treated it as such.
Exiting an elevator, he saunters up to the girl’s door, knocking politely. One of the staff had gotten onto him a few minutes prior for neglecting to wear shoes; quoting the ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service,’ policy at him; and it took some serious evasion to get her off his back. His chest heaved a bit from the chase.
The model opens the door with a cheery smile, greeting L politely as she waves him into her room. The space looks exactly how he expected it to be judging from his psychological profile of Misa Amane.
She had numerous posters of My Chemical Romance and Deftones stuck to the walls, imagery of gothic skulls and roses, and various fashion articles strewn about. The amount of lacy curtains in the room baffled him, but he always appreciated the dark.
”How are you, L?” The girl says, plopping herself down on her bed.
”Mm.”
”Hm…”
Misa’s attention is drawn to something on her tablet while L continues to inspect her room, adding to her psychological profile as he does. They sit in comfortable silence.
After a bit, Misa breaks it.
“The International Cult of Kira is meeting soon to attempt his resurrection, have you heard?” She shifted to look him in his eyes.
Incredibly, L felt his heart swoop a little at the killer’s mention. Misa sounded like she was prompting him for something.
“I’m privy to these rumors, yes. Why mention it?”
”I just thought it was scary, y’know.” She shrugs.
Online forums blew up after Kira’s demise became public knowledge, especially in pro-Kira spaces. Many people denied the evidence and believed that the government was being blackmailed into concealing his existence, but nobody could ignore the absolute cessation of the murders eventually. If Kira really was alive, he pussied out of doing his job.
After this realization became commonplace, it didn’t take long for rumors to begin circulating about a cult of Kira gathering followers to perform a resurrection. L had actually rolled his eyes at his screen when he read the internet chatter, completely disbelieving. These people were going to attempt to reverse the effects of death? Like it had been done before?
It was a desperate hail-mary, L thought, calling Watari over to share a laugh at the idiocy of Kira’s proponents.
However, that belief fell to pieces upon opening Misa’s door. The girl continues chattering about other topics, but his mind is focused on the mention of Kira.
”Misa. Speak.”
”Eh? I’m not a dog!” She whines.
He locked his onyx gaze on her by way of answering, rattling her defenses. After a few moments, she lets her shoulders slump.
“Fine, yes, I’ve been deceitful toward you, L…”
“How so?” He’s not surprised.
“I requested this meeting as a distraction. Ryuk is bringing Kira’s notebook to the cult as we speak in hopes of aiding in a possible revival.”
“Hm. What are the chances of it being successful?” He looks up, thinking.
“You’re not upset?”
“No. I’d appreciate an answer, though.”
“Nobody knows. It’s a last-ditch effort, if anything.”
If even a Shinigami didn’t know about the possibility of resurrection, it must mean that it’s never been done before. If that were the case, then Kira’s odds didn’t seem too likely. Many religious and occult organizations who were far larger and more resourceful hadn’t managed to revive nor summon their deities, what made these people think they’d be the exception?
Of course, Kira is the only higher power of sorts that can actually be proven to exist. Perhaps there was a chance, even if it was absolutely moot…
“You’re hiding something else from me, Misa Amane.” He brought his attention back to the other girl, cutting into her once more.
“Ha! I knew you’d guess it! I am.”
She brandishes a Death Note with a twirl, winking and flashing a finger-heart in the model way she does.
“It's Rem’s… and before you ask, I'm not using it. I need to see if they actually revive Kira… because if they do, I might be able to bring back Rem, too!”
Misa tried to cut right back into him, seemingly to convince him of her honesty. L allowed the information to be sorted in his brain.
“I see.”
“Still not mad?” She blinks.
“No. How did you get it, though?”
”Ryuk found it in her ashes… He gave it to me in exchange for luring you away from HQ.” She said truthfully.
”I should’ve known that idiot Matsuda wouldn’t watch the cameras.”
”Spicy…” Misa smirked.
“Mm. Why are you telling me all this? Don’t you love Light?” He continued.
“...I don’t know. I don't know if I should.” She demurely replies.
“Then why?”
“As a ‘thank you’ gift. I thought you would want to know.” Misa perks up a little.
“How so?”
“You ask too many questions, L,” Misa giggles. “I know you’re as crazy as Misa Misa is! That's how!”
The blonde woman smiles before pivoting on her feet, making a grand exit with a wave and leaving behind a newly perplexed detective.
–
The resurrection of Kira…
The world’s greatest detective was now pondering a new mystery: whether or not to tell the still-grieving task force about their friend’s potential revival. Soichiro Yagami had long since locked himself and his family away in a rural cottage to grieve their son and their reputation— being Kira’s family was a tough pill to swallow.
The other men weren’t as poorly off, but still not fantastic. Matsuda irritated the detective to no end with his musings and pleading for assignments, clearly unsettled by the results of the case and needing something to keep his mind off it. L wishes the man would just drink himself into oblivion.
Watari was already preparing for their return to Wammy’s house, intending to put an unwilling L to work in tutoring the younger children at the orphanage. The lanky man didn’t work well with children, always either making them cry with his owlish looks or being too blunt for their little souls to handle.
Luckily, the children Watari found are usually too smart for their own good, and not too startled by his mannerisms. That was one good thing about child prodigies, L thought.
He dreaded his return to England, though. The Kira case still enraptured him.
His mind is brought back to Misa’s information about the cult gathering, wondering what would happen if Kira was truly resurrected. Would Light Yagami just… come back? Would he bring another Death Note with him? Would he be the same?
L finds himself hoping the cult succeeds— and that’s how he makes a decision.
He recalls the remaining members of the task force, citing an important meeting regarding the Kira case and requiring utmost confidentiality.
WIthin an hour, all the men are in front of him and awaiting his orders in anticipation.
“What happened? Is there another Death Note?” Matsuda shuddered.
”Shit.” Aizawa responded.
L allowed the men to share their meaningless assumptions and hypotheses, gradually freaking themselves out more and more with every theory. He tried not to smirk at the irony of the situation, knowing that he would unravel the most horrifying theory yet.
”Enough, listen.” L cut them off, and all eyes snapped to him in an instant. “It seems the hunt isn’t over yet, boys.”
A chill shot through the room.
“What do you mean…? Kira’s dead.” Aizawa’s voice wavered.
”He is. However, I’ve just been informed that a cult of Kira is attempting to revive him.”
“Oh, thank God! That’s what this is about!” Matsuda leaned back, breathing out heavily. “Those are just rumors, sir!”
“I didn’t finish. They are in possession of his Death Note, and are in contact with the Shinigami.” L corrected.
This time, there was no interruption. Just a mutual, bone-chilling realization.
”…Fuck.” Mogi delicately put.
Every man seemed to be lost in their own world, pondering what this meant for society as they knew it. L let it sink in for a few moments and looked all around the room, growing confident in his plot.
”…Now that that’s settled…” L began. “I plan to infiltrate the Kira cult.”
It’s quiet for a few seconds, and then the room bursts into noise: the unfortunate detective plugs his ears.
“Are you crazy?! Those psycho freaks might try and skewer you!”
“—would ever join a cult?! A cult! A group of the most clinically—“
”Do you expect us to join you?”
L sighs.
”No. As always, the choice is yours.” He finishes.
Their voices peter out as they look suspiciously at one another, dubious glances abound. None of them looked all too enthused at the prospect of joining a hybristophilia-oriented cult.
”…I’ll do it. I have to.” Matsuda piped up first, always too driven for his own good.
The other members of the ragtag task force reluctantly agree with him. They decided they would ride or die on the Kira case train long ago.
“How in the world did they get their hands on the Death Note, though?” Aizawa questions.
L focuses a cutting stare on Matsuda, almost causing the young man to shit his pants audibly. The other men simultaneously sigh in exasperation.
”That explains it.” Mogi facepalms.
The Death Note was most definitely the most lethal murder weapon in the world, so in all seriousness, they should be raising all hell trying to get it back. However, a literal phantom did away with it; they think they can cut some slack for the boy. Supernatural forces were always a pain in the ass to deal with.
L brings his thumb to tug at his bottom lip.
”Get your best occult-wear, men.” He states.
“My what— ow!” Aizawa smacks Matsuda on the back of his head, leading him out of the room.
–
“Y'hah nathrod ph'vulgtlagln…”
The room was bathed in an eerie red light, setting the perfect mood for the valiant return of God.
“Wgah'n bug tsahohhweh nw ee, goka h'shtunggli…”
Ryuk watched the scene unfold with utmost curiosity, watching the hooded humans kneel in prayer all around the salted circle they drew out.
Just a few days prior, while Misa had dragged L away from HQ, he phased his way inside. None of the members were actively keeping an eye on the Death Note, what fools. It was easy for him to slip away with it.
The hard part was convincing the cult to use it, he supposes.
He monitors the occult gatherings until the topic of Kira’s resurrection is discussed, brought up by a bespeckled young man with long, black hair.
“So, are preparations in place for God’s revival?” Mikami questions.
”As well as they can be.” A platinum-blonde woman replies.
”No, we need things to be perfect.”
”This has never been done before, Mikami. Settle down.” Another man reprimands the boy.
He turns away, snarling. Ryuk knew this was the perfect time to drop in.
The Shinigami hovers over the beseeched boy and drops his notebook directly over his head, letting it smack him.
“Ow!” He hisses indignantly, before turning his gaze to the creature above him, paling.
”Oh my God.”
Mikami is met with several questions from the other members, but he can’t pull his eyes away from the towering monster before him. He wonders if this is his God coming to take him as a loyal soldier.
”…Kira?” He questions.
Ryuk cackles.
”Pass around the Note, kid.”
Immediately, Mikami snaps up and hands the notebook to the woman next to him, trembling in both nervousness and excitement, insisting she take it. When she reluctantly does, she’s overcome with the same feeling her fellow cultist is upon seeing Ryuk. The cycle continues until every cultist in the room is made privy to Ryuk’s existence… all according to plan.
He claps his hands together, a bad habit gained from his time with Misa.
“Alright. Listen up, freaks.”
The humans hang onto his every word— they’re well-behaved, he’ll give them that.
“That notebook there was Kira’s, and it was his primary method of exercising his power. I’m giving it to you in hopes that your resurrection works.”
The woman from earlier glances at the notebook in awe for a second, before moving her questioning gaze back to Ryuk.
”Okay… but who are you?”
“The Shinigami known as Ryuk. I was Kira’s… compadre.” He decides.
The jaws of all the cultists drop in unison, their eyes twinkling in awe.
”I can’t believe it! Our God’s servant has come to assist us!” A boy whispers to the man on his side, and Ryuk blanches.
”His what—“
”Lord Shinigami Ryuk, the International Cult of Kira is immensely thrilled to have you! We solemnly swear to resurrect our God by any means possible!” Mikami places a hand over his heart, bellowing.
“Sure, but what did that runt call me—“
”Lord Ryuk, I must inquire, does your appearance imply that resurrection is possible?” The woman pipes up, standing with her hands planted on the desk.
”I don’t know? Anyway, I’m not his—“
”Rebecca! Make alterations to include the notebook in the ceremony, we can collaborate with the Lord Shinigami there!” The ravenette ordered, making several people rise.
Ryuk just stopped talking. These humans were tiring.
At least they were getting to the point, though.
In merely a few days, the resurrection ceremony began after many alterations made at the suggestion of Ryuk.
The Shinigami now sits perched next to a gargoyle in the altar room, watching on in sheer excitement. Light Yagami… Come on, defy all the odds…
“Ah s'uhn ron uh'eagl bug ngfm'latgh kadishtu orr'e…”
The large stone doors open to the altar room, and a man is walked in by a cultist. His hands are bound behind his back, and he’s blindfolded. The man doesn’t make a sound as he’s brought to the center of the circle.
The platinum-haired woman— Rebecca— tilts the man’s chin up and looks over to Mikami expectantly, holding a hand out. He nods at her before passing her a large fountain pen.
“K'yarnak hafh'drn hlirgh Kira ehye…”
All while continuing her chant, she slashes the man’s throat with the pen and holds him over the Death Note, letting the blood spill out over it. He doesn’t scream nor thrash.
Ryuk bursts out laughing.
Again, another man is walked to the center of the altar in a similar fashion, and the Shinigami is starting to get the gist of the ritual now.
These men were all death row convicts, kidnapped by a special ops unit affiliated with the ICK— an acronym that had Ryuk rolling on the floor, much to Mikami’s dismay.
Exactly what Kira wanted. Hopefully, it’s enough to bring him back.
A few days back, Mikami stumbled across something interesting he found in the rules of the Death Note, pointing it out to Ryuk.
”Lord Shinigami Ryuk… It says here that ‘ no human who uses the Death Note can come back to life’… Does that mean…?” He shuddered.
The Shinigami had pondered his answer for a moment.
”Well, the thing is, that’s kind of misleading.”
“What do you mean?”
“Once a human uses the Death Note, they aren’t really human anymore. Not to the Fates, at least. Wielding a supernatural power makes you as good as any God in their eyes, I suppose.” Ryuk explains.
“The Fates?” Mikami perked up.
“Too many questions. Bring me an apple.”
Ryuk knew better than these measly mortals. Not only about the Death Note, but also about the properties of life and death, and everything in between. He knew that what was done in a resurrection ritual didn’t matter, it was all up to the Fates.
The Fates were above all creatures— they were the deciding force of creatures. While free will existed, they were free to arrest that privilege in order to maintain balance of the mortal plane. They could alter the fabric of reality if they wanted.
While Shinigamis and those other guys were technically immortal, compared to the Fates, they were lowly demigods.
That’s why resurrections never worked, not exactly because there was no way revival was possible— but because the Fates never deemed it necessary to deviate.
He could only hope that they had taken the same liking to Light Yagami he had.
Rebecca has now slashed the throats of ten death row inmates, and the ceremony is ready to reach its peak.
“Shtunggli uh'e ah ep sll'ha syha'h, ngha…”
All the cultists lean over toward the drenched Death Note, chanting in unison. They pass around the fountain pen and each slit a wrist, allowing blood to pool in puddles ahead of them.
Then, they draw an agonizing line from each of the puddles to the next until they’re all connected in a circle, and etch lines toward the middle like spokes in a wheel.
“Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Kira Mū wgah'nagl fhtagn!”
They finish the chant with a flourish, and Ryuk waits with bated breath.
A few motionless minutes pass and he starts to feel his excitement ebb away like a last breath, he was really hoping this would work.
Just before he rises to leave— there’s a flash.