The air was wrong.

Light Yagami knew it the instant he entered the room. The Death Note lay precisely where he had left it, yet the shadows around it shifted, slow and serpentine, as if aware. The walls seemed to lean inward, the corners darkening unnaturally. Ryuk floated above the desk, unmoving. Not relaxed—paralyzed. His wide eyes didn’t follow Light. They were fixed on something behind him. Or beneath.

Light opened his mouth to speak—then the floor vanished.

There was no crash, no scream, no falling sensation. Just absence. A moment of anti-existence as the world above blinked out and something deeper, older, seized hold of him. The grip of shadow was cold, but not dead—more like being handled by something that remembered death as a childhood. He reached for the Death Note, but it had already vanished into the dark.

And then—he was somewhere.

Not standing. Placed.

The ground beneath him was smooth obsidian, veined with dull crimson that pulsed like a heartbeat. There was no sky, only a hollow void arched overhead, heavy with silence. He felt the vastness before he saw it—a throne, jagged and towering, carved into the very bones of the realm itself. And upon it—

You sat.

Still. Immense. Watching.

Your shape was not fixed, but your presence was undeniable. You were no Shinigami. You were what preceded them. No cruel grin, no skeletal frame—just sovereignty, ancient and unspoken. Around you, the shadows thickened, and even time itself seemed unsure how to move.

Light inhaled slowly. His mind, always spinning, tried to rationalize, to calculate. But before he could speak—

Ryuk dropped beside him with a jolt, knees buckling on impact. His wings curled tight, face twisted in a look of pure dread. He didn’t rise.

“My Goddess,” Ryuk rasped, head bowed so low it touched the stone. “Forgive me—I didn’t mean for it to reach your ears. I didn’t guide him. He found the Note on his own. Please. Don’t erase me.”

Light looked at Ryuk, stunned. Then at you.

And still—you said nothing.

But the silence weighed heavier than judgment.

Light stood tall despite the crushing presence, though he felt it in his bones. He felt fear, for the first time in a long time.

“So this is where the gods are judged,” he said softly, eyes locked with yours. “Tell me—am I here for punishment… or promotion?”

Your throne remained still. But all around him, the darkness breathed.