Light
Light sat on the couch, half-buried in cushions, eating chips straight from the bag. Still in shape, but lazy. The TV flickered with static and reruns. He groaned.
"This is boring," he muttered. "Since the new world, I've been reduced to a boring and nonexistent role in this New World I thought at least it be more fulfilling. No missions. No goals. Nothing."
He sighed, sinking deeper into the couch. "I kinda miss the old world."
Albert, his servant, entered the room. "Sir, you have a message."
Light didn't even look up. "No more 'come save me, Light' messages, Albert. I'm retired."
Albert hesitated. "They've been… horrific."
Light nodded. "Yeah. I know."
Albert stepped closer. "But this one's different. It's from your father."
Light froze. The chips dropped from his hand. He sat up, eyes sharp. "What did he say?"
"He said he needs your presence. Urgently."
Light stood, energized. "We go now. We can't keep him waiting."
Albert blinked. "Sir, don't you want to think about it first?"
Light shook his head. "What's to think about? He's the Supreme. He has plans for me I know it. I told you, Albert. He's had me in the nosebleeds for a year. But now? My call is here."
Albert nodded and left to prepare the car.
Light looked out the window, the sky bruised with dusk.
I knew you hadn't forgotten me, old man, he thought. I know you've got big plans. And I can't wait to find out.