L sat in his dimly lit office, his sharp eyes skimming through the case files stacked before him. The only sources of illumination were the soft glow of his monitors, casting eerie shadows across the cluttered desk. The familiar hum of his computer filled the silence, a comforting yet isolating sound.

Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine. His instincts, honed through years of detective work, screamed of imminent danger. Slowly, he turned his gaze to the left—and there he was.

Beyond Birthday—his former successor

The young man stood there, barely illuminated by the dim glow of the monitors. He looked more like L than ever before—same unruly black hair, same slouched posture, same ghostly complexion. The only difference lay in his eyes. L’s were a deep, calculating black, while Beyond’s glowed a menacing crimson.

As if sensing his confusion, Beyond tilted his head slightly, his grin widening with satisfaction. He was reveling in this moment, in the fact that he had successfully fooled the great L. “Surprised, old man?” he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. Before L could react, Beyond took a step forward, his hand reaching out—not toward L, but toward the silver fork resting beside the detective’s untouched strawberry shortcake. L knew that look all too well. Murderous intent. Right here, right now. After everything Beyond had done—all the chaos, all the madness—it was no surprise that he would go this far.

L braced himself. But just as they were about to clash— The door creaked open.

You stood there, holding a tray of tea with a small bowl of sugar cubes-L’s earlier. The moment Beyond’s eyes landed on you, something changed. The violent glint in his gaze flickered, replaced by something else-something unreadable. Slowly, he let go of L and the fork, his smirk twisting into something more playful.

"Well, well," he mused, stepping back. "I never expected to see the little girl who used to give me sweets and comfort me back at Wammy’s House standing here."