A poetic tale

Meanwhile, Somewhere Within Athena's Realm

Athena sat upon her throne, her fist pressed lightly against her cheek as she exhaled a soft sigh. The weight of unseen burdens flickered behind her golden gaze, but her voice remained measured, regal.

"I never thought you'd reveal yourself..." she murmured, her tone carrying the faintest trace of amusement. "If you've appeared before me, then I assume you've already met Dazai. Isn't that right... L?"

The mist coiling around the chamber stirred, shifting in rhythm with the slow, deliberate tilt of L's head. The crimson haze that wreathed his form moved like a living entity, ebbing and flowing with his very presence.

"Oh, you catch on quick," L chuckled, his voice smooth, almost playful. "I had no intention of slipping past anyone to enter my realm… yet suddenly, I see what you've sent. You are quite the cunning goddess, aren't you?" His grin widened ever so slightly. "Mmm… I wonder—how is my creator faring? I imagine he'd be rather intrigued to meet one of his alternate versions."

Athena let out a dry, sarcastic chuckle, her narrowed eyes scrutinizing him.

"Don't be foolish," she said coolly. "And what of you? You granted him an ability. I don't recall you being the generous type—nor particularly talkative. I wonder… could it be because—"

L cut her off with a soft, knowing laugh, his amusement evident.

"Ah, of course. Because he is the creator's other self," he mused. "Fascinating, isn't it? The so-called 'Child of Prophecy'… is also the child of future chaos. My creator… his days slip away, yet his power continues to rise. I sense it… and I'm sure you do as well." His tone carried an unsettling satisfaction. "A poetic tale, no?"

Athena sighed, her expression unreadable.

"Yes, I suppose so…" she admitted, almost to herself. Then, a shadow of a smirk played upon her lips. "My dear husband… I imagine he would take a liking to Dazai."

---

Meanwhile, Within the Carnage Estate

Ryomen stood by the window, his gaze cast toward the endless stretch of sky beyond. The blue expanse was vast, boundless—yet it did little to quell the weight pressing upon his thoughts. A heavy sigh escaped him.

Behind him, steady footsteps approached. Ryuko, his father, let out a low chuckle as he passed.

"So, you've finally decided to show yourself, my dear son," Ryuko remarked, his voice carrying both familiarity and knowing amusement. "I must admit, I'm surprised—you've never been one to remain hidden for long." His smirk deepened as he folded his arms. "Well, I won't indulge myself by saying 'I told you so'... but had you listened to me back then, you would have put an end to Coy when you had the chance."

Ryomen exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you, old man," he muttered. "My fault and all that. But I'm here now… not that it made much of a difference. Even without me, Coy still had his own damn problems." He scoffed. "Whatever."

Before Ryuko could offer another quip, their exchange was interrupted by the soft sound of approaching footsteps.

Touka entered the room, poised as ever, prepared to greet them—but before she could utter a single word, Ryomen swiftly closed the distance between them. In one fluid motion, he lifted her off the ground, cradling her as though she weighed nothing.

Her eyes widened in startled disbelief.

"Ryomen—?! What are you—!"

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, the warmth in his tone a stark contrast to the man he had once been.

"My dear wife," he murmured, his grip tightening around her. "I have missed you far too much. Being away was unbearable, my precious darling."

His embrace was suffocating—literally.

Touka's face turned slightly pale as she struggled against his overwhelming strength, her breath nearly stolen from her lungs. "Y-You're… c-crushing me…!" she wheezed, desperately tapping his shoulder for release.

Ryuko sighed at the familiar sight, shaking his head as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

"Even after a year, he still has a soft spot for her," he mused. His expression, unreadable for a moment, softened just slightly. "Well… that's my son."

And for all his chaos, for all his bloodied past—Ryomen Carnage, it seemed, had finally found something he would never let go of.