Steven pushed through the door of Gold & Grit, the neon sign sputtering above him. The shop reeked—stale cigarettes and dusty junk piled high. Behind the counter, Vince, a wiry guy with a raspy voice, scrolled his phone, barely glancing up.
"What's the deal?" Vince muttered, eyes still glued to the screen.
Steven slid the Rolls-Royce key from his pocket, its black finish catching the dim light. Vince's head snapped up, brows climbing.
"Hell's that?" Vince said, snatching it. "Where'd you get a key like this?"
"Found it," Steven said, too quick. "What's it worth?"
Vince chuckled, turning the key over. "Found it, sure. Looks legit. Twelve hundred."
"Fourteen," Steven shot back.
Vince grinned, showing yellowed teeth. "Cheeky. Thirteen. Final."
Steven's mind raced. Thirteen hundred wasn't a fortune, but it'd keep him off the streets. "Deal."
Vince counted out the cash, crisp bills slapping the counter. "Don't flash this around, kid. Wrong eyes'll snatch it."
"Thanks," Steven said, pocketing the money. He stepped outside, a grin tugging at his lips. The key was gone, and he had cash. But a prickle ran down his neck—like someone was watching. He glanced back. Empty street, just shadows.
Behind the counter, Vince muttered, "Kid doesn't even know that key's worth five grand easy."
Steven's system pinged as he walked.
[*Ding!*]
[New Member Joined: "GodWannabe"]
"GodWannabe?" Steven said, brow quirking. "What's that about?"
---
Tokyo, Japan - April 9, 2006
Light Yagami sat at his desk, the city's drone—horns, chatter—fading beyond his window. His computer hummed, a math textbook open but ignored. In his hand, the Death Note, black and heavy. His pen scratched names from the news: a thief, a corrupt official, a gang enforcer. Routine steps in his grand design.
Sunday night, just past 9 p.m. At 18, Light was To-oh University's golden boy—top scores, easy charm. Yesterday, he'd aced a mock exam, flashing his perfect-student smile. At dinner, his dad, Soichiro, had grumbled about "Kira," oblivious that Kira sat across from him.
Ryuk lounged in the corner, munching an apple Light had tossed him to shut him up. "Humans are dull," the shinigami rasped, chuckling. "Another crook down. Same game."
Light didn't respond. Then—*ding!*—a sharp chime cut the air. His pen froze. A blue screen flickered into view, hovering like nothing he'd ever seen.
[*Ding!*]
[New Member "GodWannabe" Joined!]
[Welcome to the Dimensional Chat Group, User "GodWannabe"!]
Light's eyes narrowed. "What's this?" he muttered. He glanced at Ryuk, who grinned, apple juice dribbling. "Not my doing, kid. No clue."
Light set his pen down, leaning in. A trap? Police tech to snare Kira? No—too strange for 2006. The screen listed two names:
- Admin_Tarnished
- 5th_Hokage
"Admin?" Light thought, calculating. "Who are these people?"
A message flashed.
[5th_Hokage: Hey, new guy. Care to share what world you're from? Just checking if this thing's for real.]
---
New York
An hour after selling the key, Steven's luck had soured. Cash in pocket, he'd hit up motels, inns, even a dive hotel. No dice—nobody took him without ID.
"Guess it's a park bench," he muttered, trudging to a quiet green nearby. The night air was crisp, the city's buzz distant. He found a bench, stretched out, and propped his backpack under his head.
Opening the system, a chat window glowed. He skimmed the exchange—Tsunade had prodded "GodWannabe," who'd claimed to be a "normal student."
"Normal student?" Steven snorted. "What 'normal student' gets called GodWannabe?" One name clicked: Light Yagami.
He paused. "System," he said, "this guy's not gonna kill me from there, right?"
Silence. The chat had gone quiet—maybe Tsunade was buried in Hokage work. Steven sighed, closing the panel, eyes heavy.
Tires crunched nearby, snapping him awake. A plain sedan rolled up, stopping by the bench. The window slid down, revealing Maria Hill.
"Hey," she called, leaning out. "Saw you on my way home. What's the deal? No place to crash?"
*Saw me… or tracked me?* Steven thought, suspicion flickering.
He sat up, rubbing his neck. "Yeah, something like that."
Maria's brow creased, then softened. "Get in. You can stay at my place. Least I owe you after those punks."
He blinked, caught off guard, but didn't overthink it. Grabbing his backpack, he slid into the passenger seat. *Trap or not, she's offering a bed. She's S.H.I.E.L.D., sure, but maybe she's just being decent. People have lives, right?* He settled in, staying quiet as she drove.