….
As Ryuk appeared again.
Not suddenly. Not as a cheap jump scare.
Slowly.
A shadow stretching unnaturally. A voice, gravelly, amused, ancient. "I Have been waiting for you, Light Turner."
Cassius noticed someone in the audience grip their seat.
He smirked. They have got them.
As the film progressed, Light's transformation was slow. Calculated.
Stephen Hawking. Jr.'s performance didn't portray him as an immediate villain. He wasn't evil, he was convincing. Every decision, every justification, felt eerily reasonable.
L - played by Timothée Chalamet - introduction drew an audible reaction from the crowd.
A lone genius, hidden in shadows, piecing together the impossible.
Cassius watched how the battle of minds unfolded, not through exposition dumps, but through subtle glances, shifting body language, the slightest flicker of uncertainty behind Light's composed exterior.
He had seen a lot of detective movies.
This wasn't just a crime thriller. It is nothing compared to what he has seen until now…
This was chess with human lives.
Cassius couldn't help but be a little breathless, as the protagonist transformed into something both brilliant and monstrous.
But the real revelation was the detective. Sharp, eccentric, almost unworldly in his methods - a perfect counterpoint to the chaos unfolding.
Their battle of wits escalated with each passing scene, every move and countermove raising the stakes to an unbearable pitch.
He leaned forward, the edges of his seat digging into his legs, but he didn't notice.
His pulse thudded in his ears.
Each twist felt earned, each revelation a gut punch.
There was no hand-holding, no lazy exposition to kill the pace.
Just relentless, unflinching tension.
At some point, he realized he wasn't alone.
The entire theater had gone silent, the collective breath of hundreds held in suspense.
He could feel it in the air, the raw energy of a room so captivated it forgot to exist outside the screen.
….
The scene played -
It was late evening when Naomi Misora returned home after a long day.
The once bustling days as an FBI agent were a distant memory now - replaced by her life with Raye Penber, her fiancé.
But that night, things would change forever. She barely had time to set down her purse before she heard the sound of footsteps behind her.
Raye's voice, usually comforting, was tense, laced with something Naomi couldn't place.
She turned to see him standing in the doorway, disheveled, pale.
"Raye?"
He shook his head. "I—" He exhaled sharply. "I was on a bus today. There was a jacking, Naomi."
She froze, her heart skipping a beat. "A bus jacking?"
"Yeah." He nodded, his voice tight. "The man who did it—he is the same one who hit the bank two days ago. I... I don't know how to explain it, but I think he knows who I am."
Naomi's brow furrowed. "What do you mean he knows who you are?"
"I showed him my badge." Raye said, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I didn't want to, but he was getting violent, and I had no choice. I thought he might leave if he saw I was with the FBI, but... I don't know. Something about him didn't feel right."
"Raye." She started slowly, stepping toward him. "You need to be careful. I don't want you getting involved in something dangerous."
"Promise me you will stay safe."
Raye gave a weak smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I will. But... don't get involved, Naomi. This is dangerous. Please, for both of us, just stay out of it."
Naomi watched him, not buying it. She could see he was trying to protect her, but she wasn't going to just sit back.
Days later, Naomi returned from a quick errand. The news hit her hard.
Raye was gone.
It wasn't an accident. It couldn't be. Kira was behind this - she knew it.
She had to do something. She couldn't let this be the end. Not like this.
Raye had trusted her, and she would honor that trust. She moved fast, no longer following Bureau channels. This was personal.
She would find Kira herself.
She knew there were people who could help. She knew she had to get to them, no matter what.
And then, that fateful meeting.
Her eyes flickered with suspicion when she saw him.
Light Turner - calm, collected, with that almost-too-perfect smile.
He had introduced himself as a member of the Task Force, the connection she needed to expose Kira.
….
The rain-drenched streets of Manhattan glistened under dim neon lights.
Inside a small café, Naomi sat alone at a corner table, her sharp gaze fixed on the glass door.
Outside, a man approached. His reflection in the café's foggy window merged briefly with hers - a fleeting illusion of confrontation before it even began.
The doorbell chimed as he stepped inside.
She didn't rise, didn't smile, just gestured toward the chair across from her.
"Mr. Locke." Naomi began. "I appreciate you coming."
As the conversation between the two of them goes on…. The audience could feel it.
Something big is about to happen.
Really big.
"I will need to see your ID." Light said, breaking the silence. "It's a formality, of course. If you want to join the investigation."
She hesitated, glancing at him.
Trust him?
It felt like a leap, but Naomi had no choice.
She slid her driver's license across the table, watching as he took it without a second thought.
Then, his eyes flickered to her name, and a small, unsettling smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Naomi Misora." He murmured, as if tasting it.
Naomi hesitated, then nodded.
She didn't notice the pen he was gripping under the table or the faint twitch of his hand.
The page glistened with fresh ink.
Something shifted in her chest.
No. Something wasn't right.
"Why do you keep looking at your watch?" She asked, her voice steady but laced with suspicion.
Light's smile didn't falter. "Because... I am Kira."
The words hit her like a slap, a cold wave crashing down.
Naomi's breath hitched, and for a moment, the world seemed to tilt.
"No..." she whispered. "You are lying."
But Light didn't blink. "You will understand soon enough."
Her mind spun.
The walls closed in, the world narrowing to a single point - Kira had been sitting right in front of her the entire time.
Naomi stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor.
She had to leave, to get out before it was too late.
"Where are you going? Don't you want to talk to my father?"
"I - I don't want to talk to your father." She muttered, already turning toward the door.
Light didn't stop her.
Instead, he just watched, his gaze unreadable.
She took one last look at him before stepping out of the cafe.
As she walked, her thoughts swirled. She was walking toward her end.
Up the stairs.
The rope.
The quiet finality of it all.
Naomi's silhouette appeared against the rain-streaked glass as she answered a sudden phone call.
The camera cut to the inside of the cafe.
Ryan flipped the notebook open, scanning her notes with unsettling calm.
"She came too close to the truth." His voice murmured in his mind. "Too dangerous. I could walk away now... but if she reaches them, everything I have built falls apart."
….
Naomi turned back toward the café, her expression sharp with realization.
The screech of brakes split the air, followed by a sickening thud.
The screen cut to black, leaving the audience in stunned silence.
When the screen faded back in, Ryan sat alone, gripping the Death Note with a light tremble of his hand.
"Justice demands sacrifice." He whispered. "But when the scales tip, who decides what's fair? Who decides… who lives or dies?"
He added. "The God will."
….
A faint, hollow laugh echoed from above.
Outside, Ryuk perched atop a lamppost, his glowing eyes gleaming as laughter rumbled through the rain-soaked streets.
"I thought so..." He said, his voice a low rumble. "Humans are so interesting."
A flash of lightning illuminated the city, stark and fleeting, leaving the screen to fade into darkness as thunder rolled in the distance.
….
Soon the climax begins to unfold.
Rain hissed against the broken warehouse roof, falling through jagged openings and landing in shallow, oil-slicked puddles.
Beneath a flickering light, Light stumbled backward, one hand pressed to the bullet wound in his side, the other frantically searching his pocket.
The page was gone.
He froze.
For the first time, Light didn't know what to do.
There was no plan now nor a trump card.
The gun had shot through the false bottom of his watch, obliterating the sliver of
Death Note he kept hidden. The mechanism that had saved him so many times had finally failed.
Across the room, the Task Force stood still, weapons lowered. Not because they were uncertain, but because they had already won.
James Turner's eyes were locked on his son's collapsed figure.
His hands trembled.
The pistol he had fired seconds earlier still hung in the air like it was a part of his arm. But it wasn't fury on his face, it was something quieter.
Something sadder. The agony of a man realizing his son had become the very thing he had once sworn to fight.
Light tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. His lips moved, silently forming syllables, justifications, declarations, maybe even apologies, but none reached sound.
He fell to one knee.
Blood poured from his side in rhythmic pulses.
His vision blurred.
He reached out, not toward salvation, but toward his father.
James, played by - Ross Oakley, didn't move.
Behind the silence, something stirred.
High above them, perched in the steel rafters of the warehouse, Ryuk stepped out of the shadows. The Shinigami watched from above like a bird of prey, his glowing white eyes focused not on the group below, but on Light.
And this time, there was no grin.
"Well, Light… I guess this is it." Ryuk murmurs quietly
Light turned his face upward, jaw trembling, rain and blood streaking down his cheeks. "You said you would wait." He rasped. "You said you wouldn't write it."
Ryuk tilted his head, as if confused by the plea. "I said I would wait… until it was over."
His voice, normally light and amused, was flat now. Indifferent. Like a god sealing a tomb.
"And Light." He added, slowly pulling the Death Note from the air. "It's over."
Light's heart seized.
Not from the pain, not yet, but from the realization that everything he had built, every godlike step he had taken, every sermon of divine justice… had led to this moment.
"I am… Kira. I created a better world. I was… justice." He whispers.
L's voice echoes in his head - "If Kira wins… then he is justice."
Light stumbles again, his legs giving out. He crashes to his knees, gasping. Blood pools beneath him. His once-flawless hair clings to his face.
"You all… You don't understand… I fixed everything… I was going to save humanity…" He struggled to even open his mouth.
He tries to crawl toward the warehouse door. His fingernails scrape across the cement floor, leaving trails. His blood smears behind him like the path of a dying animal.
He pants heavily, dragging himself a few more feet.
"Dad… please. Help me. Just… help me stand…" Finally he begged for his life.
James turns his back.
Light freezes. That was it. The final blow.
Then he moved…
He didn't know where he was going. Somewhere far.
Somewhere not here. Somewhere where he still ruled, where the world still bent to his will.
But every inch forward was slower than the last.
They just watched. A man who had called himself a god, now bleeding, groaning, crawling through the dirt like a wounded dog.
Ryuk sighs. "I always told you, didn't I? I am not on your side. I am not on anyone's side. I am just the one who writes the names."
Light turns to look up at him, a flicker of rage left in his eyes.
He gritted his teeth. "You used me."
Ryuk replied flatly. "You used yourself."
Ryuk flips open the worn, black notebook. The Death Note. He licks the tip of his pen.
And he began to write.
The strokes of the pen were deliberate, ceremonial. L-I-G-H-T T-U-R-N-E-R, each letter marking the death of a legacy that had once imagined itself eternal.
Somewhere inside Light's mind, the chaos of panic broke open. It lets something simpler in grief.
He didn't want to die.
Not now. Not this way. He needed to hear that he mattered.
Even the voice in his head, the one that had once called itself 'Justice' - had gone quiet.
And so he lay there, trembling in a pool of his own blood, gasping, eyes wide as the last seconds drained from his life.
In his final moments, his gaze caught the shattered ceiling. Beyond the broken warehouse roof, the sky above LA was beginning to clear. Patches of stars emerged from behind the storm clouds.
Light saw them, and in some distant, faraway part of himself, he remembered being a child, before the notebook, before the killings, before the power.
He had once wanted to become a man who changed the world.
Not ruled by it. Changed it.
And then his heart gave one last shudder.
His body twitched.
And was still.
And Ryuk began to write.
The strokes of the pen were deliberate, ceremonial. L-I-G-H-T T-U-R-N-ERI—each letter marking the death of a legacy that had once imagined itself eternal.
Somewhere inside Light's mind, the chaos of panic broke open. It leaves something simpler in grief. He didn't want to die.
He screamed. "NO! I WON'T DIE LIKE THIS! I AM KIRA! I AM GOD!
He writhes, trying to stand, to reach Ryuk, to fight against the inevitable. But his strength is gone. All that remains is ego, and even that is crumbling.
Ryuk somberly, as he finishes. "You were just a guy who got bored… and thought he was better than everyone else."
The final stroke of Light's name is written.
Only the sound of rain, and the faint whisper of Ryuk snapping the Death Note shut.
40 seconds.
Light collapses fully to the floor. His body convulses once.
Twice. A wet gurgle escapes his throat.
He gasps. Then silence.
The god of the new world dies like a stray dog in the rain. Tears didn't fall. Mourning never came. He was alone in the end.
Just emptiness.
The silence afterward was long.
Eventually, a Task Force member moved forward.
He crouched next to Light's body, checking for a pulse. He didn't speak, but his face said everything. The god of the new world had died with no one at his side. Not a soldier.
Ryuk stepped back into the dark. The notebook vanished with him. He was gone before anyone could react, just a shadow among shadows.
….
As the final moment played out, Light's fate sealed in the most brutal way possible - Cassius thought that was the end.
However, it wasn't.
There was an additional last two minute scene.
A video of L, recorded before his 'death', plays.
.
….
[To be continued…]
★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★
Author Note:
Visit Patreon to instantly access +1 chapter for free, available to Free Members as well.
For additional content, please do support me and gain access to +10 more chapters.
–> p@treon.com/OrgoWriters