PROLOGUE

There's a world unlike our own where the sky is always gray and bones scatter the land, untouched. Where no man walks and no animal sings. Where no water runs and no plant grows. This is the world of the gods.

And in this world sits a hierarchy of many formidable beings. Some tall and lanky, others short and round, but each more powerful than any mortal. Some cultures call them many creatures of folklore, but they seem to prefer the term Shinigami, an East Asian word meaning "death spirit."

At the peak of this hierarchy rests the Shinigami King. Like his kin, he doesn't take the form of a human. Not many underlings know the truth about his sex or his being. Those who have seen him describe a skull with its mouth gaped wide, as if stuck in an obscene yawn, and another skull's head wedged between its teeth, a massive, blob body suspended by chains, and four arms with claw-like extensions for hands. One of these extensions opens a hole the king has been using as a makeshift pool to spy on the memories of the infamous Kira. A mortal god the humans feared and worshipped equally for six years until his reign came to a screeching halt nearly three years ago.

The king circles one claw-like finger around in the pool. The memories shift from before the mortal god was born to when his name had first been spoken through someone's lips. The principle object that belonged to the world of gods—a Death Note—had fallen into the hands of the mortal and given him power. He watches Kira scribble name after name through pages of the same notebook, and each person with the associated name perish. If Kira had been born a god this number of victims could have gifted him eternal life, perhaps. The king observes the mortal's life through over six years as a prisoner to the notebook. Kira proclaims himself a bringer of justice not evil, a harbinger of a utopia not a dystopia, a god among mortals not an antichrist. But it's not all the madness and killings that interests the king. It's the lengths in which this human, absent any significant power aside from the Death Note, manages to go to become what he so desperately seeks to be. The god king watches the memories until the mortal's very last breath, and then all that sits in front of him is an empty pool.

"Kira," he muses. The name sounds forbidding, almost as powerful as the god king himself. He scoffs. No creature could ever compare to him, especially, a human. But the more he thinks about this mortal's actions, the more intrigued he becomes. Perhaps, as Ryuk had explained during his trial, humans are far more interesting than they appear.

Ryuk. He's the one who caused such a mortal being to come into power. The god king hadn't seen his underling since after Kira's death. Not since the trial, when he removed Ryuk's eyes and the Death Note from his possession.

The king looks out at his domain. His underlings sit around, ambling their way from place to place, occasionally engaging in hobbies like gambling. Is this the world worthy of gods? Fearsome? Competitive? Entertaining? Is this what he's created? It looks like nothing more than a dry, monotonous wasteland.

He removes his finger from the empty pool and calls for the one who he had punished.

Flapping sounds like a great bird fly overhead, and Ryuk lands gingerly in front of his ruler. With his Shinigami power ripped from him, his eyes are a pair of empty, yellow orbs.

"Wassup, Gramps?" the lesser god says. "You need to take something else from me? My head, maybe?"

While the words come out in a mixture of sarcasm and disrespect, the god king forgives them. "Not this time, Ryuk. I only ask for information."

"Information?"

"The mortal you followed during your stay in the human realm. Did you intentionally drop the Death Note for only him to find?"

"Nope. Had no idea who'd pick it up. Kind of funny how things happened, isn't it?" Ryuk cackles.

The god king makes a sound similar to a groan. "Ryuk, do you miss this mortal?"

Ryuk cocks his head to the side. "Why do you say that, Gramps?"

"Our kind sit day after day, year after year, delaying their deaths by playing tedious games and observing the human world. I fear moral has become low. We are gods, are we not? Surely we should have some form of entertainment. I wonder if the humans are more entertaining than we are. Do you believe this?"

Ryuk scratches his chin and nods. "Yeah. That's why I left."

"I see."

Silence wedges between them.

"What would you think if I brought that sort of entertainment here?"

Ryuk wonders if he misheard his creator. It has been nearly three years since he wrote Kira's true name in his Death Note. When he told the story at his trial, some of his kind couldn't fathom such a being existing in the human world. A being that committed murder and called it justice. A being that overcame almost every obstacle in his way for the sake of his desires, his lust for immortality. Then again, humans are driven by desire and lust. Things Shinigami normally don't possess. That's what makes them so thrilling.

"It would have to be the right kind of entertainment," Ryuk replies. "Enough to make Shinigami impressed."

"What kind of entertainment do you propose?"

Ryuk considers. "One with high-stakes."

"Then it's decided," his creator says. "I'll need a champion."

"Champion?"

The god king raises one claw-like appendage and reaches into the pool. He pulls out a Death Note. Ryuk's Death Note.

Ryuk raises his head as his creator sifts through the notebook's pages. The god king stops on a page, and Ryuk could have sworn he saw a glimmer in the skull's eye. He turns the notebook around.

Ryuk's grin extends. "This'll be fun."

The name reads Light Yagami.

A/N: Welp, here it is ladies and gentlemen. The beginning of my very first longer work. This'll be updated on a weekly basis, so every Saturday, unless said otherwise. Please let me know your thoughts!