03 [text]
It's funny how well you think you can know a person; how one day they are simply there, breathing, speaking, thriving, and gone the next -- reduced to nothing more than an image flickering in and out of view, barely a record. But perhaps that does not apply to our lovely city, does it? I have been told that death is not a permanent state of being
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May read strange matters. To beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower,
But be the serpent under't.
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I know what you are. I know who you are. I know what you've done
You don't know the rules of this game. Trundling in like an overzealous child isn't going to get you a victory, it's going to get you killed.
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Is that the frustration of a killer, or the fear of someone who is seeing their carefully crafted empire fall to pieces? Fortunate for us that your "reign" was not short enough. Even better that I have lived long enough to see it put into effect.
Oh. Is God threatening me?
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[Put it together, Light. He could have made it look like Kira, but he didn't. He's shutting this down on you because he suspects what you are. But does he know? If so, why isn't he crowing about it? Why? Because it's about destroying L's game not winning it. He doesn't want people to know that he's Kira. So anything that he says... No. He mustn't do that. Recorded is recorded, and this can fall into anyone's hands.]
You have some strange ideas about this, don't you? Who do you think you're dealing with?
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