L perched on the edge of a boulder, gazing out at the ruins of the Shinigami realm. A vacant smile stretched across his face as an opaque layer of smog crawled across the desiccated terrain, carrying on its noxious current whispers from the human world.
“Kira is dead,” they hissed over and over, the words empty of character, a cycle of hollow echoes. “Kira is dead...Kira is dead.”
L shut his eyes and recalled the moment of his heart attack. It was littered with flashbacks of his childhood - a cathedral's ceiling, a crying toddler, an iron fence, a springtime sky, rusty cogs, two childhood friends exchanging secrets and finally the sunlight peeking in through the tangle of branches that made up the roof of the forest.
Lurking in the background of his dying memories was Light's triumphant face, his mouth upturned into a winner's smirk that only L could see. His eyes burnt with a crazed passion as his fingertips clenched onto his nemesis's white pullover, feeling the life ebb away.
"Light," L murmured, as the whispers died away.