This wasn't a dream.
He was really back.
Light slowly loosened his grip on the notebook and took a deep breath, forcing his pulse to slow. Now wasn't the time to panic. He needed to think—needed a plan. Every second counted.
His gaze drifted back to the lower right corner of the computer screen.
[October XX, 2003 — 8:42 PM]
Memory flooded in like a tidal wave.
If everything was happening again, then tonight—just minutes from now—
Light snapped his laptop shut, closed his homework file, and cleared his browser history. Every motion was smooth, practiced—like he'd done it a thousand times.
And in a way, he had.
Nine o'clock, on the dot.
A sudden chill spread through the room. It wasn't from the air conditioner or the night breeze drifting through the window. It was something else. Something unnatural.
"Heh heh heh…"
That laugh—so familiar it made his skin crawl—echoed from behind him.
Light forced himself to stay composed. He didn't turn around right away.
He listened to the faint rustle of wings and felt the heavy pressure that came from something that wasn't human.
Exactly like before.
"I'm the notebook's original owner. Ryuk."
The voice was mocking, lazy, almost amused.
"I'm a Shinigami."
Light finally turned to face the creature.
"A Shinigami?"
He let just the right amount of shock and doubt color his tone—enough to sell the act—but the fear that had consumed him the first time was gone.
Ryuk went on, his grin wide and sharp.
"Up until now, no human's ever killed so many people in just five days. You're the first."
"Most humans get scared. They don't write this much."
Light kept his expression confused, thoughtful—but his mind was racing.
Every word, every gesture—exactly the same as before.
What did that mean?
He decided to test it.
"So, you've been watching me?"
That question hadn't come up in his previous life.
Ryuk tilted his head, clearly surprised, but he answered anyway.
"Just got here. Shinigami don't stare at humans all day. Too boring."
Light's pupils tightened slightly. That was it—confirmation. Ryuk didn't remember.
This Ryuk had no idea what had happened before. No memory of their previous encounter, their partnership, or how it all ended.
Light pushed a little further.
"And if I don't use the notebook?"
"That'd be boring."
Ryuk let out a theatrical sigh.
"I'd just hang around until you die. Or until I get bored and decide to kill you myself."
Identical words. Identical tone.
Light almost smiled, but kept his composure.
No memories. None at all.
That meant he was the only one who remembered the past. The only one who knew.
The only god.
"I see."
Light's voice was calm as he turned back to the desk and opened the Death Note.
His pulse quickened—not from fear, but from excitement.
Absolute power was in his hands again. But this time, he had something far greater: knowledge of the future.
L.
The name flashed through his mind. The man who'd once cornered him.
He could still picture him clearly—messy black hair, dark circles under his eyes, always crouching, always watching.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember L's real name.
Some of his memories were intact, sharp as ever. Others were blurred, like ink washed away by water.
Near. Mello. He remembered their codenames—but their true names were lost in fog.
It didn't matter.
Light tapped his fingers against the desk, a faint, knowing smirk tugging at his lips.
He knew how they thought. How they worked. How they'd act.
This time, he'd end it before they even realized the game had begun.
"You gonna start using it already?" Ryuk leaned closer, eyes gleaming, sharp teeth flashing in the lamplight.
Light didn't answer. He flipped open the notebook, grabbed a pen, and began to write.
Name after name—criminals he'd judged once before, the filth of society he'd already condemned. The pen scratched quickly across the paper, a steady shff, shff filling the quiet room.
But unlike before, he didn't pace himself. He accelerated. He went all in.
Not weeks—one night.
The world would feel God's presence immediately. And L would take the bait sooner than ever.
"Heh heh heh… interesting," Ryuk chuckled, eyes narrowing with delight. "You're even more fun than I thought."
Light's hand moved faster and faster. Every name he wrote was one more heart that would stop beating. His mind overflowed with data from his previous life—years of information, now unleashed in a single burst.
Across Japan, dozens of criminals died at once, their hearts ceasing mid-breath. News agencies would explode with the story by morning. The world would tremble again before the hand of God.
And L—the self-proclaimed greatest detective—would notice. Earlier than before. He'd start his investigation sooner. Step into Light's trap sooner.
"Come on, L," Light murmured, his pen dragging a deep line across the page. "Let's see who laughs last this time."
He finished the final name and set the pen down, leaning back in his chair.
A rush of power surged through him—pure, unfiltered satisfaction.
This was the path he was meant to walk. His destiny. His purpose.
Ryuk watched, yellow eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"You don't look like an ordinary human student."
Light turned to meet the Shinigami's gaze, a slow, confident smile spreading across his face.
"Of course I'm not."
He stood and walked toward the window.
"I'm the God of the New World."
In his mind, plans unfolded like clockwork—perfect, flawless.
He'd erase every mistake from his past life.
Exploit Misa to her fullest potential.
Strike before L even suspected him.
Everything was already in motion.