....
Post-production was in full swing, and Regal's first major task was to hold auditions for the voice actors of Ryuk and Rem.
As expected, Andrew showed up on the scheduled day.
He gave it his best shot, delivering several takes with genuine effort.
But with each attempt, his confidence wavered ever so slightly.
The more he spoke into the mic, the more it beca painfully clear, both to Regal and to Andrew himself.
After a few more tries, Andrew quietly stepped away from the booth.
He let out a breath and gave Regal a brief nod, one that carried resignation rather than hope, before walking off without another word.
Regal didn't stop him.
The man had figured it out on his own.
And that was fine.
It wasn't a lack of talent - far from it.
Andrew's voice simply didn't fit the role.
It lacked the inhuman quality needed to bring the Shinigami to life, the eerie weight, the twisted amusent, the malicious undertone.
And honestly?
Regal had known it from the start.
He had never expected Andrew to be the one.
But he had still given him the chance. Because sotis, it's better for people to see it for themselves rather than being told.
And with Andrew's sharp instincts, it hadn't taken him long to read the room.
And so, Regal moved on.
With his mind already made up, he turned to the na he had intended from the very start.
The one he had always pictured in the role.
And now, standing before him in the recording studio was a man in his late sixties - Peter Cullen.
"Mr. Cullen, it's an honor to have finally t you." Regal tried to maintain neutrality, but he couldn't quite suppress the edge of enthusiasm creeping in.
The man before him was a legend - a voice that had once shaken the world, Immortalized as Optimus Pri.
And though Regal kept his excitent in check, deep down, he was having a bit of a fanboy mont.
Peter raised an eyebrow slightly, catching the subtle admiration in Regal's tone.
There was a faint flicker of amusent in his eyes, but also a asured pause. As if he were trying to decide whether Regal's words carried genuine respect... or were simply empty flattery.
Not that Peter could be blad for the hesitation.
After all, in this world, the legacy of Optimus Pri didn't exist.
The role that had once defined him, the voice that had inspired generations... had never been heard here.
Here, Peter Cullen was just another seasoned voice actor, known for his work in animated series like The Smurfs and a handful of other projects.
His true potential remained untapped.
Regal noticed the brief hesitation, but he chose to brush it off.
Instead, he smoothly shifts gears. "Mr. Cullen, before moving into the audition test, I would like to hear your take on the character."
Peter agreed, finding it understandable. "Alright."
His voice carried the sa steady warmth, the sa calm professionalism that had always defined him.
"Let's see what we are working with."
Regal gestured toward the booth. "This way."
Peter stepped in, his gait relaxed, unhurried, the mark of a man who had spent decades in the recording booth.
And as the door closed behind him, Regal's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression sharpened. Because the reason he had sought Peter out wasn't for the noble, commanding presence of Optimus Pri.
No.
This ti...
It was for sothing entirely different.
Ryuk.
The God of Death.
A creature of mischief and malice, reveling in chaos.
Regal's gut told him
That Peter was the one.
In his past life, many had boxed Peter Cullen into heroic roles, never realizing the full range of his talent.
But Regal was certain.
If Peter could embody the ultimate symbol of - Justice.
Then he could just as easily beco the perfect voice of - Evil.
....
Regal led Peter into the recording studio, his pace steady, but with a faint edge of restraint.
A subtle sign of the excitent thrumming beneath his calm exterior.
The two of them entered the soundproofed room, the heavy door clicking shut behind them.
The studio itself was modest but ticulously arranged, a large glass window separated the recording booth from the control room, where the mixing console, monitors, and waveform displays glowed softly.
A single mic stood at the center of the booth, waiting.
Peter glanced around the room, his eyes sweeping over the familiar setup, the recording booth, the mic, the console, the mixing board.
He had spent decades in studios like this.
But this ti, sothing felt different.
Regal didn't speak imdiately. Instead, he walked over to the console, and with a few quick keystrokes, the screen flickered to life.
For a mont, it was just a black screen.
Then - Ryuk appeared.
The god of death filled the monitor. His fra towered, hunched at the shoulders, his limbs long and jagged, fingers curling into bone-like talons.
His grin stretched too wide, filled with serrated teeth that seed almost uneven, as if they had been carelessly jamd into his mouth.
The piercing yellow eyes glowed like twin suns, wild and unblinking, beneath the ssy curtain of his tangled black mane. His skin was pale and cracked, textured like porcelain fractured by ti, giving him an almost brittle yet sohow impervious presence.
And then - his eyes narrowed slightly, fixing on the screen with a malevolent glint.
The visual froze.
Just Ryuk's face, filling the fra.
Letting the sheer visceral presence of the character sink in.
"...."
Peter stared.
For once, he was speechless.
There was no need for words.
He could tell instantly, the money that had been poured into building this character was enormous.
But more than that... he could feel it.
The love, the care, the absolute obsession the team had put into creating him.
The attention to detail.
The way the textures on Ryuk's skin seed to catch the light just right. The subtle way his eyes twitched ever so slightly, making him feel unnervingly alive.
It was more than CGI.
It was craftsmanship.
"This..."
Peter finally muttered, his voice low, almost disbelieving.
"...is him?"
His eyes remained locked on the screen, as if he were still processing the character before him.
Regal's eyes narrowed slightly, watching him carefully.
"This is him."
Then, almost deliberately, he added. "Ryuk."
He let the na linger in the air.
Peter didn't look away.
His eyes stayed fixed on Ryuk's predatory grin, scanning every minute detail, the subtle tilt of his head, the unevenness of his grin, the faint yet gleeful malice in his eyes.
"...You weren't kidding." His voice was barely above a murmur, but there was a genuine note of surprise in it.
Slowly, Peter exhaled through his nose, his arms crossing loosely over his chest as he continued to study the character.
For a brief mont, the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"He is creepy, isn't he?" Peter's voice was dry, but there was a distinct note of approval beneath it.
Regal's gaze didn't waver from the screen. "A death god. A monster. But more than that..." His gaze turned back to the screen. "...a spectator."
He paused for a brief second, then added softly. "Bored... cruel... amused by the chaos he brings."
Peter's eyes narrowed slightly, the sharp lines on his face etched deeper, as he studied the still fra.
The longer he stared, the more the faintest of smirks tugged at the corner of his lips. There was sothing inherently fascinating about the playful cruelty in Ryuk's eyes.
He slowly nodded.
"...Interesting."
Regal stepped closer, his voice lowering slightly, more confidential. "But here is the thing." He glanced at Peter again. "Ryuk... isn't just evil."
Peter's brows lifted slightly, but he remained silent, letting him continue.
"He is - detached." Regal gestured faintly toward the screen. "He is not driven by hatred or malice. He is just... entertained."
Regal's lips barely moved as he added. "He finds humans funny."
Peter's eyes narrowed slightly. He slowly crossed his arms, his gaze flicking from Regal to the screen, absorbing every word.
And then, he finally spoke. "Like a child..."
His voice is contemplative. "...pulling the legs off of ants. Not out of hatred. Just to see them squirm."
Regal's lips curved faintly into a subtle smile. There was a glimr of satisfaction in his eyes.
"You could say that..."
....
For the next thirty minutes, the two of them talked.
And talked.
They exchanged thoughts on Ryuk, debated the finer details of his personality.
Peter offered his own insights, his experience as a seasoned perforr adding unexpected nuances to the character. "He is amused... but you don't want him to sound entertained. He should sound... emptier. Like he is laughing at a joke he already knows the punchline to."
Regal nodded slowly, letting the description sink in. "Yeah... detached but knowing. Like he is already bored of the ga, even while he is still playing it."
The longer they spoke, the more Peter realized.
This young man wasn't just so overly eager director, flattering him with empty words.
No.
He genuinely respected him.
And the more they spoke, the more Peter felt it, the subtle weight of trust Regal had placed in him.
Finally, the mont ca.
Regal glanced toward the booth. "Ready?"
Peter's brows lifted faintly, but he didn't hesitate.
"Yeah." He stepped toward the booth, his gait slow but deliberate, his eyes briefly flicking to the mic before he entered.
Inside the booth, he tugged off his jacket, leaving it hanging on the back of the chair.
He adjusted his stance slightly, planting his feet shoulder-width apart, his posture straight but relaxed.
He took a slow breath, his hands loosely brushing his thighs before he reached out, adjusting the mic height with a calm, practiced motion.
Regal watched through the glass, his arms still loosely crossed, but his eyes were fixed on Peter's face, watching for every shift, every micro-expression.
Peter cleared his throat softly, then exhaled slowly, letting the tension leave his chest.
For a brief mont, he closed his eyes.
The room fell still.
Regal didn't move. He didn't breathe.
And then, Peter's eyes snapped open.
In that instant, he was soone else entirely.
His eyes were sharp, slightly narrowed, the once warm and casual glint in them now replaced by sothing predatory.
His gaze was piercing, cold and playfully cruel, as if he were already toying with his prey.
The corners of his lips curled slightly, but not into a smile, it was more of a lazy, knowing sneer, mocking without a word.
He took a slow, deliberate inhale, and then - He spoke.
His voice was low, slow and deliberate, drawing slightly with a mocking, gravelly lilt.
"...Humans are so... interesting."
The words hung in the air, thick with mockery.
There was a slow, deliberate sneer in his tone, a cruel amusent coated with a twisted sort of glee.
The voice was gravelly but smooth, like silk dragged over broken glass.
Then, in a mocking sing-song tone, he added, almost idly:
"...How many nas, I wonder..." He let the words trail off slightly, as if lost in thought, before his voice dropped lower, gravelly, conspiratorial.
"...before you start to feel it?"
His lips twitched faintly, the mockery in his tone now tinged with sothing almost teasing.
"Ten? Twenty? A hundred?"
He let out a soft, almost giddy chuckle, but it was flat and cold, devoid of any real amusent.
"...Or will you be too far gone... to even care?"
In the control room, Regal exhaled faintly, his eyes locked on the screen.
For the first ti in hours, he smiled.
He didn't even have to call a cut.
Because he knew, right then, without a doubt - He had found his Ryuk.
....
The sound engineer cast a quick glance at Regal, subtly watching his expression out of the corner of his eye.
For a mont, his fingers hovered slightly over the fader, ready to make an adjustnt, just in case.
The look on his face was clear, even without words: "Is this... what you were aiming for?"
"You sure this is how it's supposed to sound?"
But when he saw the faint grin tugging at the corner of Regal's mouth, he didn't ask.
Because it was obvious.
There were definitely two crazy people in the studio today.
One behind the mic.
The other behind the glass.
And the worst part?
The engineer was starting to like it too.
Without even realizing it, he found himself leaning slightly closer to the console, his fingers subtly tightening around the fader, as if he wanted to hold on to the mont a little longer.
He exhaled, his lips twitching into a faint, almost reluctant grin.
"...God help ." He muttered half amused, half in awe.
"I am turning into one of them."
.
....
[To be continued...]
★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★
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