Kid's perception of balance had always been skewed. But what happens when insanity's grip twists the definition to make complete annihilation the perfect symmetry?

Author's Notes: What is this? After over four years of not posting any fanfiction, a whole new fic from a whole new series! My new obsession, Soul Eater. And my favorite character, Death the Kid! Though I've read the manga up to this point, this fic takes after the anime. I waited until the anime was over to make sure this didn't actually happen before writing this. This story is inspired by what my roommate and I predicted was going to happen in the anime. Enjoy!

Had she not known better, Liz would have identified the warped shinigami hovering before them as the head of Shibusen and her technician's father. But even with the cloak and mask, his too-small stature made his identity obvious.

And the laugh…that hollow, high pitched laugh echoing through the death chamber…That couldn't be him. That wasn't Kid. That wasn't her Kid.

But it was him.

The torn pieces of Asura's remains scattered and hung on the bent crosses like clothes on a line. There had been no blood, no organs, even his outfit had warped back to the stretchy flesh they had originated from. The surrealism of it sent a pang of nausea through the eldest Thomson sister.

The ripped black strips of the former shinigami unwound like ribbons across the battlefield. His cracked mask laid discarded on a large piece of a shredded black cloak. She couldn't tell from this distance if there was any life in him at all. After seeing Kid's near invulnerability, it was hard to imagine that anything could kill the Grimm Reaper.

But he sure wasn't moving.

Somewhere in the room was Asuza and Spirit's unconscious forms. Unlike Maka, Liz lacked the soul perception to pinpoint their locations in the rubble without seeing them. Ironically, the only ones awake (alive?) were her, Patty and Kid. The three of them. Liz's team. Her family.

Yet…there was a rift between the laughing Kid and them, as wide as the physical distance between them. For the first time since their first soul resonance, she couldn't feel his soul.

From behind, she could hear small sounds from Patty that were somewhere between a chortle and a whimper.

This had all happened so fast. Liz's mind raced to keep up with the few minutes that led up to this.

Shinigami and Asura were in a stalemate.

Asura had said something about the fruitlessness of Shibusen's rules – it was hard to hear their conversation from her place at Kid's fingertips, with the godly battle waged so high above them. She and Patty watched from their vantage point, with Kid and Asuza.

Perhaps she was a fool to have never entertained the thought that the demon god wasn't going to notice them. Then again, where would they have run to?

She sure never saw the beam coming, until it was a flash so bright that it may have blinded her if she had stared at it through human eyes.

Kid had just enough time to throw them out of the way before the beam struck.

The explosion had been loud enough to steal her scream.

Through the smoke she could see Kid's haggard – but otherwise unharmed – form raise to his feet. She heard the tremors in his voice as he called for his father – how she wanted to transform and run to him. Maybe she should have. Perhaps if she had done so, she could have stopped the series of events that occurred after Kid's two-toned eyes stared into the empty depths of his father's cracked mask – beheld his twisted, torn form. What remained of the Grimm Reaper looked more like a torn sheet of paper than anything that had once resembled a god.

After that, everything was a blur.

Liz could only remember the echo of desperation in her meister's soul as he turned to the one thing that had caused Kid to question the intentions of Shibusen.


The BREW grants wishes, Liz could remember Shinigami explaining. The wishes of your soul.

Eibon's most powerful demon tool was known to be both a great and terrible thing. Now Liz knew why.

The wish in Kid's mind had to have been to defeat Asura. Save or revive his father. Maybe both.

And now the Death Room – and Death City – were a wreck, and scattered death god and demon god scraps littered like confetti.

In the midst of it all was Death the Kid. The white lines circling his head – 'sanzu lines' if she remembered correctly – now completely wrapping around. Ironically, it gave him the symmetry he always longed for.

And she couldn't help but come to the frightening conclusion that might have been the wish BREW granted, whether or not that was what Kid intended at the time. With it, he had the power – and used it – to destroy Asura. To avenge his father.

He did. And it was over.

So why was he laughing?

And why couldn't she stop shaking?

"Don't you see, Elizabeth?"

There was something very frightening about hearing his voice call her by that name. A name she hadn't heard since their first introduction, what felt like a lifetime ago.

Kid met her gaze with eyes somewhere hidden behind the stylized skull mask. He was floating, right in the air where his father and the Kishin had been battling what felt like both minutes and eons before. Was Beezlebub underneath him? She couldn't see through the cloak billowing in the wind generated from the sheer energy her technician was producing.

"This is why gods of death are created!" Her meister extended his hands out, palms up, as if the Death Room provided his example. "This whole world is wrong, Elizabeth! Everything is unbalanced! But, see? This room is getting there. It's almost fixed. It's almost beautiful. But it still needs fixing. I will fix this world."

"Kid, what are you talking about-" Liz's question was swallowed as Kid raised his hands and dispersed a wave of energy through the room. She only had enough time to turn around and throw her arms around Patty to shield her before the entire room was engulfed.

She felt Patty hugging her tightly in return as the floor crumbled beneath them, and in a moment of panic Liz realized that this just might kill them!

No! He couldn't! He wouldn't! Not her Kid! Even in his moments of obsessive-induced madness had he ever, ever raised a finger to them.

And then the explosion ended. Liz lifted her head. The debris, the cross-shaped tombstones, the shredded bits of Asura – and Shinigami? She couldn't tell – everything was demolished. Crumbled to sand beneath her feet, blowing in the wind, like fine grain.

She turned around and beheld the sight, a sharp gasp escaping her parted lips.

Liz could now see Spirit and Asuza, and realized that they had been spared. She looked down to see Patty lifting her head and staring up at her with the same fear and dread that Liz felt. They had been spared. Shinigami – what remained of him – also laid stretched across the ground. But the Death Room had been completely demolished, with nothing but grains and a shattered mirror left behind.

She looked up to where Kid had been floating, but he was gone. Exited from the same hole Kishin had come from. Shakily, she released Patty and slowly staggered until she was just underneath the hole, looking up through it. But it was empty.

Uncertain of what she expected to see, Liz slowly sank to her knees. This had happened so fast. Too fast. Her mind couldn't keep up with what her eyes saw and ears heard.

Liz could just barely grasp the fact that, somewhere along the line, Shinigami was likely dead, the Kishin was likely dead, who knew if Spirit or Asuza were alive, who knew where anyone else was, Kid had lost himself and she and Patty were now alone. As alone as they had been in the streets.

No, more so.

Alone with the realization that they were alone. Alone when Liz wanted nothing more than to be at Kid's side. To grip his shoulders, give them a good shake and demand to know where the hell did he think he was going? And what the hell did he mean when he said he would make the world beautiful, in that frightful, un-Kid-like tone!

"This room is getting there. It's almost fixed." He had said.

Liz slowly surveyed the Death Room. No…this place could hardly be called a Death Room anymore. Kid's attack, if it could be called that, selectively destroyed everything. Everything but them.

Was this his definition of beautiful?

I will fix this world.