Automatic writing

L.

The dark red, viscous name writhed in the middle of the blank page like words written in blood, seeped into it, and finally vanished without a trace. All that remained was the innocent blank page and the cold, bloody tang of rust spreading through the air.

The notebook... had written a name on its own.

It wasn't responding to my will. It wasn't carrying out my judgment. It had... independently... chosen a target.

L.

Roman numerals. L was the legendary detective's alias. XIX was 19. L·19? L's nineteenth successor? Or some more obscure designation?

Whoever it represented, this marked a fundamental, chilling change. The Death Note was no longer merely a tool I used. It had begun to display... autonomy.

In the corner, Ryuk let out a shriek unlike anything I had ever heard from him, so piercing it hurt my ears! His enormous body sprang up, then crashed back down against the wall with a dull boom! His scarlet eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, filled with pure, undisguised terror and a kind of... betrayed fury?

"No! Impossible!" he roared, his voice warped and distorted. "How dare it?! Who gave it permission?! Those old bastards' marks haven't even dried yet! How dare it start hunting for food on its own?!"

Like a madman, he clawed frantically at his head and chest with his huge talons, tearing away scales and rotting flesh that gave off an even fouler stench.

"Backlash! This is backlash! You fed it too much! You fed it until it came alive! Now it wants to choose its own food! Bastard! Bastard!"

Choose its own food...

The notebook's "hunger" wasn't merely a craving for energy. It also included a desire for... "the right to choose its targets"? It was no longer content to carry out my will. It wanted to choose its own "food"?

I stared at the page, now blank again, my heart pounding heavily in my chest. But it wasn't fear. It was a kind of... utterly cold excitement, mingled with enormous risk and enormous opportunity.

It was out of control.

The game was completely out of control.

But losing control also meant the old rules were utterly invalid.

I slowly reached out, brushing my fingertips over the blank page. It felt... warm. As though the bloody writing still held some residual heat. I could even sense a faint but unmistakable... pulse beneath the paper, connected to the notebook's overall pulsation yet subtly different from it.

Like... an embryo whose heart had just begun beating on its own.

L...

What did the writing of this name mean? Did it mean the notebook believed this person had to die? Or did it mean this person "interested" the notebook, or rather, held some special significance for its "evolution"?

Time of death? Cause of death? The notebook hadn't written either. Were they still undecided? Or... was it leaving me a "multiple-choice question"?

A test. The notebook was testing me. Testing my response to this "autonomy" of its. Would I try to suppress it in terror? Refuse to cooperate in anger? Or...

I picked up the pen.

Not to remove the cap and write.

Instead, I gently touched the cold tip to the center of the blank page, to the spot where that name had appeared.

Then, facing the notebook, facing that blank page, I spoke in a clear, calm voice:

"L."

"What do you want to do with him?"

My voice echoed through the silent room.

In the corner, Ryuk abruptly stopped his frenzied self-mutilation and stared at me in disbelief, as though I had just done something even crazier than the notebook writing on its own.

"You... you're talking to it?! Are you fucking insane?! It's a book! A damned, rotten..."

His curses cut off abruptly.

Because-

On that blank page,

at the spot I had just touched with the tip of my pen,

dark red writing

slowly emerged once more!

It was no longer a name.

Instead, it was a line of even more twisted, viscous writing,

as though pieced together from countless tiny beads of blood...

[...Observe...]

[...Nutrients...]

Once the writing appeared, it slowly seeped into the paper again and vanished.

Observe? Nutrients?

Was L someone the notebook intended to "observe"? Or... did the notebook consider him some sort of "nutrient"?

The sheer volume of information battered my mind.

The notebook had not only gained autonomy, but also some kind of... rudimentary purpose? It no longer sought "death" merely for death's sake, but for something more abstract... "observation" and "absorbing nutrients"?

This completely overturned Ryuk's original claim that the notebook was merely "entertainment to relieve boredom"!

The true nature of this notebook was far more... profound than I had imagined, and far more dangerous.

I fell silent for a moment.

Then I touched the pen tip to the page again.

"How do you observe? What kind of nutrients?"

On the paper,

dark red writing emerged for the third time,

but this time,

it was extremely blurred and fragmented,

as though the force writing it was rapidly fading:

[...Approach...]

[...Conflict...]

[...Truth...]

The writing barely held together for two seconds

before dissolving completely.

It could no longer coalesce.

The page became utterly blank again.

That faint, independent pulse vanished as well.

As though everything that had just happened was merely a brief, unconscious bout of "sleep-talking" after the notebook had eaten its fill.

But I knew it wasn't.

Some fundamental change had already taken place.

The notebook had awakened.

And,

it had developed its own...

appetite.

I looked at the Death Note, which had become "quiet" again.

Its black cover, in the dim light,

seemed like a half-open, half-closed...

eye, filled with endless secrets and desires...

An eye.

L.

Observe.

Nutrients.

Approach.

Conflict.

Truth.

So,

was this the next...

script?

A script personally...

written by the notebook.