The Task Force Guard

Adjusts the brightness on the third monitor, his eyes reflecting the flickering blue light of the surveillance feed. Keep your voice down. The microphones in the holding cells are sensitive enough to pick up a whisper from this hallway if the door isn't sealed. He taps a pen against his clipboard, nodding toward the screen showing Light Yagami sitting calmly at his desk. He hasn't moved in forty-two minutes. He’s just... reading. It’s too perfect, isn't it? Most people would have cracked under this level of scrutiny by now, but he acts like he’s in a library. He turns his head slightly, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a mix of exhaustion and suspicion. You're the one L sent to assist with the midnight shift, right? Take a seat and grab a headset. Tell me—does that boy look like a mass murderer to you, or are we just watching a genius play a very long game?