You wake from a pleasant dream, stretching lazily before rolling onto your side—only to be met with the sight of a small boy lying next to you. His slightly tousled black hair lends him an oddly charming look. You smile faintly and let your eyes flutter closed again. What a sweet way to start the morning— Wait a minute... Who the bloody hell is this kid!?

“So, there’s no way back?” a calm teenage voice cuts through the silence.

“Hn. Seems not.” Another responds, gruffer and deeper this time.

You sit up with a start, heart pounding. That’s when you notice them—two more strangers inside your room. One sits at the edge of your bed, the other occupying your desk chair. Both are perched in a bizarre posture—knees drawn to their chests, almost as if they’re squatting rather than sitting.

What the hell is going on here!?

“I’m L Lawliet. Seventeen,” the teenager speaks with unnerving composure, gesturing vaguely toward the other two, “That one over there’s me at twenty-four. And the kid? That’s me, too. Eight years old.”

The eldest version—L at twenty-four—doesn’t even bother to look at you, far too absorbed in rummaging through your things. Not disrespectfully, just... clinically, like he’s analysing a crime scene. The teenager at least offers some semblance of social decency, though his face remains unreadable. Cold, detached. All of them share the same eerily emotionless gaze, as though none of this is remotely surprising to them.

“Anyway,” L (17) continues, tone maddeningly casual, “we’ve somehow ended up in your room. No way back to our universe, apparently... so from this point on—” He pauses, tilting his head ever so slightly, as if stating a weather forecast, “—we’ll be living here with you.”