Archive of Our Own ^beta

“The Grid. A digital frontier. I tried to picture clusters of information as they moved through the computer. What did they look like? Ships, motorcycles? Were the circuits like freeways? I kept dreaming of a world I thought I’d never see. And then, one day…”

“You got in?”

“Correct,” he smirked. “I got in.”

L Lawliet was the CEO of the most successful technology company across America—Wammy Inc. After humble origins as an English orphan, he was brought to the US by a man known as Quillish. From there, Wammy was born, and from its humble origins grew a superpower that took the world by storm. Everyone knew the name L Lawliet.

But for Mihael Lawliet, better known as Mello, L was just Dad . L was busy, even in his prime, but he had always made the time to tell Mello stories from his work. His favorite to tell, however, was of the Grid.

“The world was beautiful, yet dangerous,” L continued. “Bed, Mello, please.”

Mello shuffled into bed obediently as L continued the tale. “I met what I considered my equal, a brave program known as—”

“Light!” Mello cheered.

L sighed, but nodded. “Yes. Light.”

“He fights for the users.”

“He does,” L trailed off, fondly. “He showed me many extraordinary things, brought me from one edge of the world to the other. There were battles of data stored on discs, like a CD, and motorcycles that raced through beams of visible light. It was… amazing. And together we built the Grid.”

“Woah,” Mello breathed.

“A new Grid, specifically. And because I was unable to be within this new Grid all of the time, I created a program meant to copy my likeness, with the same ability for intellect as you or me. I called this program B.”

“Beyond?” Mello guessed. “Like beyond myself?”

“Correct again, Mello,” L praised. “And the three of us forged a system of unlimited shared information, all free and able to be used by anyone. But the most fascinating part of all was the miracle.”

“Miracle?”

L smirked, before he glanced at the clock and sighed. “That is a story for another night. I need to get to work.”

“Dad, I want to go with you!”

“One day, you will be able to. I promise. But for right now, why don’t we go to the arcade tomorrow? I’ll show you the new game, first round on my money, hmm?”

L smirked and tossed Mello a coin. “Not that you can beat my high score.”

“Wanna bet?” Mello challenged.

“I suppose we could play doubles, if you are scared you’ll do poorly.”

“You’d let me on your team?” Mello’s eyes widened.

L offers a genuine smile, a small thing with an ounce of sadness coloring it. “We are always on the same team, Mihael.”

L never returned that night. A few days later, he was reported missing. Everything covered it, from the most prestigious news programs to the most back-shelf tabloid magazines. The disappearance of L Lawliet became iconic, but as months drew past, even that faded to obscurity. Wammy moved on, as did the rest of the world. Control of Wammy was seized from Roger, a close associate of L’s. 

Eventually, L’s disappearance lost its relevance.

The only person left with the aftermath was his son. Mihael, who grew so resentful and despondent at his father’s disappearance and the downturn of Wammy, turned from the hope of a new era of the tech industry into a rebel who was responsible for some of Wammy’s worst economic moments.

Whatever the case, Mello never really put stock into the “digital frontier” that his father had promised, and certainly not the Grid. It was a bedtime story, forged from the mind of the man who had left him chasing glory. L Lawliet was gone. And that was that.

…Or, well. That’s how the official story goes. The truth is a lot stranger. Because the Grid is real. Very real. And L Lawliet has been trapped there for cycles.

•••

It was night. The portal closed in only a 0.1 millicycle—too soon. Light had been bugging him about returning in time, and at this point was nearly dragging him to force him to meet his departure time, lest the portal closed while L was still inside. There was no way out once the portal closed—to keep programs out of the real world. He could tell Light had mixed feelings about that particular fact that the security program seemed to repress quite valiantly. Nevertheless, he dutifully reminded, and at times forced, L to return to the portal on time.

This time, however, they were joined by B, whose orange eyes had shone with a particular passion that day.

“Lawliet! Am I still to create a perfect system?”

“Yes, B,” L replied irritably, still put off by Light’s rough treatment of him.

Instead, B’s eyes darkened with some sort of glee, and he brandished his disc. Soldiers, all lit with orange lights (not the bright blue of everything else on the Grid), surrounded the trio, and suddenly several things came together at once. This was not a goodbye. This was a coup. Light, digitally made and crafted with deft hands, spared not a moment of shock. He bounded into action at once, grabbing his disc as the soldiers descended upon him.

“L, go!” he yelled.

L did not go. He made it behind a corner, to hear the pained cry coming from his ally… his friend. The streets flooded with the telltale orange of B’s supporters, and L, outnumbered and alone, fled to the outlands as the portal closed in the distance.

•••

L thinks of Light a lot, nowadays. Perhaps since he had nothing left. B was a tragedy, a misformed duplicate of a misformed man. In retrospect, such a successor was doomed to fail in such a way. L is not so blind in his hubris that he cannot admit that to himself. L, in his youth, believed in success. Believed in doing something so perfectly that he was the very best at it. B, as L’s poorly designed reflection of his naïve self, clung to success. He just saw success differently. If L was to be the User, a near god among programs, then B was to be the one to bring all Users to their knees. And so, the coup.

Light, though…

Light always was well aware of his role as a program. He took it to heart, but even more so to ego. He believed himself to be the best security program on the Grid. Granted, he was. But his true pride arose in his connection to Users. He knew what made humanity so powerful, how people ticked. He knew Users like L knows code. Yet, in spite of his awareness of others, Light never quite saw his own humanity. He was just as susceptible to emotion as any human. Ego was meant to be Light’s downfall, if anything. He was never supposed to face deresolution—death—for L.

So, yes. L thinks of Light a lot. That doesn’t mean he dreams of him often. 

So getting a dream of Light, for the first time in many cycles is unusual. Pairing that with the vibrant light in the sky, the telltale sign of the portal being open for the first time since the coup, the unusual starts to become a bad omen.

But omens couldn’t prepare L for the sight of Near arriving back home with none other than Mihael in tow. His son, who he hasn’t seen in about 13 real-world years. He looks older. Longer hair, more tired eyes, an angry scar on one side of his face. He’s dressed for the Gaming Grid, disc on the back.

He’s different. But this is Mello. This is L’s son.

What followed was a tense conversation. Near, bless her, tried to maintain the atmosphere, but Mello clearly had different ideas. After a brief “how’s life” where Mello managed to break every checkmark, the conversation turned into the reason for L’s absence. After recounting the tale, Mello insisted that the best strategy is to leave, and stop B from the outside. L, however, knew this to be a reckless action that only would result in B getting the final piece to reach his plans of touching the outside world—L’s disc. Mello soured at L’s denial, storming away and into an empty room. Near glanced at L, for just a moment, before following Mello. 

He did not inform Mello that recompletion—the only way to defeat B within the Grid—would likely be explosive. He did not mention how recompletion would likely be fatal to himself. He didn’t think he’d have to.

L senses the quiet before he senses the problem. Despite his son’s explosive anger earlier, the house is near silent. Not even the ambient sounds of the Grid could drown out Mello, even when he was a child. The silence means trouble—and the discovery of Mello’s absence more so.

“I sent him to Kiyomi,” Near admits quietly.

“Kiyomi?” L echoes. “Kiyomi has enough influence in the city, that maybe it is reasonable that she would assist him. But B has sentries everywhere. He must know where we are by now, and if not now, then soon.”

“Then what do we do?”

“Ready the Lightrunner, Near. We must go downtown.”

•••

He is Kira.

Kira has one task as B’s head of enforcers—enforce. Stop the Resistance. Track and kill the Users. Fight whoever B wants him to fight. He is B’s attack dog. He does as B demands, for that is his purpose that was written into his code.

He cannot serve another purpose. Any programs outside of their intended function are to be terminated.

His purpose says he should tell B everything. Yet, he has not. For one, B does not like it when he speaks. He has been punished for unnecessary usage of his vocal processors many times before. Kira has no need for words.

So he has not informed B of a new corruption in Kira’s code. 

Strange echoes of data have begun to surface ever since Kira encountered the User MELLO. Primary functions have been impacted. Secondary functions range from low efficiency to completely nonoperational. It is sending him into feedback loops, lines of code without completed phrases.

He is supposed to be ruthlessly efficient, the loyal and mindless right hand of B.

That is what he was told.

That is what he was told.

That is what he was told.

…

Perhaps a reboot would negate the issue.

•••

Kiyomi was not who Near had believed. She reinvented herself into a new program—Takada. Worse yet, she tied her hands and the fate of the Grid to B, for the sake of her own calculated success. 

This became abundantly clear as L stepped into the carnage of the End of Line club. B’s enforcers, resistance fighters, civilians, and Takada’s own sirens all involved in all-out battle, as Takada herself laughed from her overlook of the club, alongside a blonde siren with blue eyes that seemed to reflect orange in the light.

L, Near, and Mello managed to escape the battle, but not without heavy casualties. Near’s arm was completely derezzed, and at the last moment, an enforcer managed to connect their grappling hook to L’s discs, rendering it in the hands of B. And it was his son, his reckless fool of a son, that caused it. After being told that he couldn’t fight B, not on B’s own terms, not when B had clearly engineered a plot to open the portal, Mello just decided to go off on his own towards the portal anyway. Now B is able to finally leave through the portal, and Near is not even conscious. If she wasn’t an ISO, she would be dead.

L should blame Mello. He wants to. But, as much as anger desires an easy target, he can’t find blame in his son. Not when B constructed this whole plot. Not when he constructed Beyond. Not when Light’s plea echoes in his ear still.

So he sits down with Mello, and explains the truth about Near. He pulls her disc from her back, igniting it to reveal her face. Each disc of a program behaves the same. Code is ignited into a digital replica of the program’s face, and code can be altered from possession of a disc. ISOs, however, work differently. Some code strings into a sort of digital DNA. An evolution of programs—but not efficient enough for a successful system.

B killed them all, except Near.

Slowly, Near’s eyes flutter open, and she greets L and Mello with a characteristic small smirk. L watches them—his greatest successes—fondly, before making an excuse to leave them to themselves for a while. Something was sparking there, and L didn’t want to be the one to ruin it.

Instead, his eyes turn outwards, towards the portal. L cannot blame Mello for any of this, either. This was his fault. Mello deserved to live, and he decided he wanted his father with that. He tried to do what he thought would fix things. Even against L’s own advice.

L is torn between being proud as a father of his son coming into his own, and angered at the disrespect of it. Ultimately, he settles on both.

Finally, L comes face to face with B’s flagship, the Rectifier. Thousands of programs that B amassed so casually, shoving them through a recycling program to strip them of their will and identity and making them conform to B’s plans. It is glorified enslavement. 

He didn’t know things were quite this bad. Not even with Near’s consistent surveillance reports. Not even with the circumstances that lead to Near being in his care. Not even with everything he knows about B—nothing truly prepared him for this.

But perhaps he should have known. L waited, and waited, and waited. Cycles were lost that way, and this is the reason programs lost faith in the Users, more so than even B’s propaganda. It was so effective, because he proved B right. B earned the support of the Grid—and that makes him all that more deadly.

The trio slowly disembarks the hijacked train they entered on, ducking through corners until they come to a halt by a set of stairs. L hears Near gasp, then unhook her disc. She spins around to face L, and gives L her disc, before whispering.

“Goodbye.”

Near darts out from behind the nook, and Mello startles.

“Near! What’s she doing?”

“Rolling the dice,” L breathes.

She continues to dart forward, as a program crashes to the ground. 

“Kira,” Mello growls.

L quickly observes the newly dubbed Kira. The program is covered in a sleek, black, metal suit, and is emitting a distinct purr that sounds too similar to a harddrive crash. Orange lights cover small nooks in the suit, centering in a distinctive L-shaped pattern on his chest. A pattern he had only seen on one program before.

…On Light, before.

He isn’t sure, but he faintly registers the sensation of his heart pounding in his chest. Perhaps it’s just the sound of Near and Kira— Light , trading blows.

“Light?” he whispers. “He’s alive?”

“That’s Light ?” Mello whispers astoundedly. “Like—hero from all the stories you used to tell me, Light? Protector of the Grid, Light?”

“I thought he got de-rezzed. I thought… oh, Light .”

“Dad, we have to help Near!”

L tears his face away from Kira, just for a moment. He looks at Mello. His foolish son, who has put L in more trouble in less than a millicycle than L has been in for hundreds. He looks at Near, who is the key to everything he has worked for and more. And he looks at Kira, who L had thought had sacrificed his life just to protect L’s. And he thinks of success, and for once—comes to a different conclusion of what it could be, and who could touch it.

“Get my disc, get Near, and get out.”

“Dad?”

“Mello,” L says, rigidly. “Promise to live.”

“I promise, but—.”

“Then do as I ask. Please.”

Mello searches his face for something, anything. Perhaps he finds what he’s looking for, or something enough to convince him, because he nods and hides deeper in the shadows, waiting for his moment to flee. L watches him, with a strange mixture of pride and regret brewing. His son—not foolish, but brave . He’d been the fool for leaving. But Mello has learned to live without him. Light cannot live like this, and so he makes his choice.

“Light,” he calls, across to the program that was once his closest friend.

“User,” the program answers, voice gruff with lack of use.

Kira drops Near, and dashes to L. The two collide, and Kira uses that momentary surprise to pin L against the wall, nearly a chokehold. L ignores the discomfort, desperately tracing the ridges to the notches where Kira’s helmet connects to his head. Finally finding them, he disconnects the helmet, casting it aside to look into the program’s eyes. Stained orange, just as reworked as every other part of him B had managed to dig through and rewrite. Yet still so painfully human, despite every effort to pretend his superiority as a program.

Perhaps L’s hands meet Light’s face, or perhaps they meet Kira’s. But this is a program who risked and sacrificed his life in some way for L’s. It is, at long last, time to repay the favor. So flesh lips meet coded ones, and L hopes that this communicates everything anyway.

Static, or maybe surprise, passes through Kira-Light’s system, shocking L a bit. It is pleasant in a way that kissing a circuit board shouldn’t be pleasant, or perhaps in spite of it, because he is kissing Light . Speaking of Light, he begins to tremble, and L instinctively runs a comforting hand along the circuit lines of Kira’s suit, causing the program to tremble more and stumble backwards.

“User,” Light growls, pained.

“Light,” L repeats, tenderly.

A flicker of recognition passes through Light’s face, before he makes a pained expression, and turns away. The lights on his suit flicker blue, before turning back orange.

“L?” the program breathes, so fragile. “N-no, kill the user , I can’t, must , I, I , I, I , I I I I I—”

The horrible purring sound from earlier returns in violent force. His suit flickers through orange and blue, pulsing in shades as he seems to war with his code. With himself.

“Light,” L whispers, more tender than he thought he had in him. “I missed you. I miss you. It was so lonely… it was so lonely parting ways.”

“L,” he chokes. “L, what’s happened to me?”

“B happened, Light. B happened to all of us.”

Light looks down at himself, observing. His lights still flicker, but stronger and longer, they begin to hold a vibrant blue. His hand clenches.

“I was meant to be the best program the Grid had.”

“You are, Light. You saved me, even when your logic processors should have focused on the Grid’s security. Any other security program would have identified B as the threat, and focused on him. You should have focused on him. But you saved me instead. You made your own choice, and that is why you are better than any program else.”

Orange eyes meet his, and despite the change in color, oh… how L has missed those eyes. Missed him.

“I fight for the Users,” Light tastes his long lost words. 

Determination steels in Light’s eyes then, and he takes hold of L once more. Their lips crash together, violently, as if finding something long lost. It’s messy, and there’s a bit too much teeth on L’s end and not enough on Light’s, and neither of them really know where to put their hands because L has more wrinkles and Light’s suit has new circuit lines, but L would count it among his best anyway.

Namely because he hasn’t had a great many kisses, despite his fame and fatherhood.

“For my User,” Light amends.

A breath, and a small smile passes between them.

“Master key disengaged,” informs a female voice.

L’s eyes widens. Mello did it.

“Light, we have to go.”

“Where?” Light replies, a little snarky.

“Is there a hangar? Some sort of dock? I can commandeer a vehicle, but I do not know where they would be.”

Light’s eyes widen into a confident smirk, and he breaks off into a sprint. L struggles to keep up with the program in his age, but makes a valiant effort. They dodge rectified programs and the shouts of B and his enforcers to reveal themselves. Finally, they dash into the hangar. L ducks into the shadows, sneaking around a guard to reprogram them into letting the duo enter one of the planes.

Mello crashes through the hangar ceiling only a moment later, Near in his arms. The two stumble into the jet quickly, and Light ascends out of the hangar just as fast. A moment passes, before the four find themselves in flight above the Sea of Simulation, approaching the Portal.

“So, Kira…?” Near prods, deceptively conversational.

“Light,” the program bites back.

“His name is Light,” L intervenes. “B had rectified him, too.”

Light’s face, somehow, sours more. He puts on a show of turning around, affronted, before plastering on a serious look, and fakes looking around for threats.

Noticing this, L continues, “Besides, I don’t suppose Near would like to discuss her actions involving my son.”

Mello splutters out a string of expletives while Near dons yet another small smirk. Light doesn’t move, but his shoulders relax ever so slightly. For a moment, L lets himself indulge in the foolish hope that everything will be okay.

Unfortunately, B has an army of Lightjets. Suddenly open fire descends upon the plane. Near’s face hardens, and she spins to the turret attached to the plane. It’s digital chaos. Streams of light flutter around, coloring the black of the Grid’s skyline in orange and blue. Laser shots fill the sky, colliding with exploding jets. All the while, Light maneuvers the plane so it ducks and weaves through the gunshots and light streams, narrowly avoiding death each time.

“Cutting it close, Light,” L mutters through his teeth.

“I’d like to see you do it better, L,” Light retorts back.

“I can fly a helicopter in my sleep, Light knows this.”

“I know that your User vehicles are nothing like Grid ones.”

“Well I have never actually flown a helicopter, so Light does not need to concern himself with that.”

“How can you fly a helicopter in your sleep then?” he scoffs, before jerking the controls hard left.

Mello grunts from his place in the backseat, before screaming, “Can you two stop that and fucking kill the bastards?”

“I think it is a form of coping mechanism,” Near observes.

“Shut up, Near,” Mello and Light both growl, before scowling at each other.

Another jet explodes in the background.

“They’re gaining on us,” Mello yells.

“I have an idea,” Light grins.

“Oh no,” Near winces, as the plane suddenly dives down in front of a large spike of land.

Two jets collide with the spike, and Light cheers. Even Mello gives an enthusiastic “fuck yeah” before rejoining the group as they fly off towards the portal.

“So what was being B’s lapdog like?” Near asks, a little snidely.

“I don’t have to discuss this with you,” Light growls, coming out in harsh clicks reminiscent of the ones Kira would make.

He seems to realize this fact, and looks down at his hands, expression so completely lost. It’s nothing like an expression Light ever had before, and for the first time since their reunion, L really processes the implications of all Light has been through.

Torn from his own system to assist in L’s creation of the Grid, then forcibly had his identity and will stripped from him, creating shoddy programing and worse—a complete lack of self. L looks at Light, really looks at him. Even Near, who has all reasons to be hostile considering B’s, and subsequently Kira’s, genocide of her people, softens her gaze.

“Light,” L says, just a touch too tender.

“Don’t—,” Light forces out. “Don’t pity me. I’m fine .”

“For a protector,” L observes quietly. “Light is very adamant about recklessness when it comes to himself.”

Light’s grip tightens on the plane controls.

“He can be honest, this time,” L continues, softly. “I have not made that the easiest, before.”

“There’s nothing to be honest about,” Light replies, covering the fragileness of his voice with false confidence.

“I had a feeling Light would say that.”

Light falls silent as Mello and Near continue chatting softly in the back of the plane. L looks out towards the beam of light ever approaching, and makes a choice.

•••

The plane sets down outside the portal with a soft clack. One by one, the four exit the plane, and slowly ascend the stairs leading towards the portal. Vibrant cyan floods L’s vision as he approaches, a tiny walkway extended straight to the exit. And there, watching him, is B. Light steps forward, as does Mello, but L stretches out a hand.

“Wait.”

He steps forward, out into the light and onto the walkway.

“The cycles haven’t treated you well, have they Lawlipop?” B yells snidely.

“Beyond does not look so wonderful himself,” L replies, just as loudly.

“I did everything,” he screams. “Everything you ever asked, and then some!”

“I know B did.”

“I executed the plan! Took the system to its maximum potential, created the perfect, most successful system!”

“As you saw it,” L sighs. “Success—it’s not a measure of how good something is. How efficient. How positive. Success is doing better than the day before, and the day before that. This is not success, B. It is arrogance.”

B’s face cracks, as L’s shoulders drop. They stride towards each other, meeting in the center of the walkway. L can feel Light’s gaze on him.

“I did not realize it then, but I do now,” L continues. “I was wrong. B should know I do not say that lightly.”

“Sorry? Oh, he’s sorry! Oh, he’s terribly awfully sorry!” Beyond cackles, before slamming a leg into L’s chest. 

L stumbles backwards, crashing into the walkway. Mello screams, enraged, before hitting B with a punch. B snarls, and flips Mello, sending him towards the portal. Light rushes forward, preparing to fight. Near glances at L.

“Go,” L coughs. “Take Light with you.”

She nods, whispering quietly, “Goodbye, L.”

B storms towards Mello, as Near grabs Light’s hand and jumps. She extends a grappling hook, and swings so they both land in front of Mello. Light tenses, impulsively   reaching for his disc. B reaches for his own.

“Beyond!” L screams. “They are not the target here!”

B lowers his hand, turning around and storming towards L. As he walks, the pathway slowly rescinds on both sides, leaving a chasm between the trio, and L and B. B slams a kick into L’s face, turning him over. The program reaches for the disc on L’s back, grabbing it.

“You knew I’d win. That I’d prove myself to be the greatest.”

The disc ignites in B’s hand, revealing Near’s head in cyan code. As B realizes the deception that just occurred, his face morphs from glee, to shock, to anger.

“No,” he snarls. “No, no, no, no. Why?”

“What does Beyond think?” L replies, coyly.

B screams once more, slamming Near’s disc into the walkway beside L and sprints towards the trio, jumping the chasm and catching the walkway’s edge.

“L!” Light calls.

“Dad!” Mello screams at the same time.

The Rectifier reaches the portal at that moment, and L knows what he always suspected—his time is drawing to a close.

“Miheal!” L yells. “Prove to the world that Mello can be successful in his own way!”

Mello’s face pales. “No, Dad!”

“Light! Be free.”

Light’s face crumples, but he nods resolutely.

“Thank you, L.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Mello screams.

Light grabs Mello’s hand, and Near whispers something to him to soothe him. The three enter the light of the portal, as tears rush down Mello’s face. Light takes L’s disc from Near’s hand, and raises it to the sky.

B wiggles his way onto the platform, and L’s expression turns determined. With a single thought, L kicks off reintegration. Shockwaves of air ripple out from him, dragging B towards L. They collide, orange and cyan particles dispersing from their bodies and swirling together.

The trio ascends through the portal.

Everything is enveloped in an explosion of light as L smiles.

•••

Light emerges from Lawliet’s Arcade, stepping out onto the nighttime street of a quiet, nearly abandoned neighborhood. He takes in a breath, and then another, quietly observing the sight of the User world. Near steps in place beside him, as they look over the city.

“What do we do now?” Light asks, quietly. “Now that…”

“I thought the solution was obvious,” Near cracks a small smirk. “We live.”