Zeroth kept ignoring her.
"Thank you, thank you, Zeroth!" she shouted again, louder this time, her voice echoing slightly through the palace corridor.
He didn't answer.
He kept walking.
Each step felt heavy, not because his body was tired, but because something inside him was. His fingers tightened around the notebook in his hand, the worn leather creaking under the pressure.
"I said thank you!" Mirai insisted, jogging a little to keep up with him.
Zeroth stopped.
Only for a second.
He turned his head just enough to look at her from the corner of his eye. His cold expression shifted—barely—but it was there. A crack. A hesitation.
"I didn't do it intentionally," Zeroth said. His voice was flat, controlled. "So don't thank me."
But deep down, his thoughts were screaming.
That's a lie.
Until now, every single time he had managed to control his magic, there had been intention. Purpose. Hunger. Rage. Desire. Survival.
So what was that?
When he protected Mirai… what was the purpose?
Was it instinct?
Was it weakness?
Or was it something worse?
Something human.
"Tch," he added after a moment, looking away again. "You're welcome."
The words came out quieter than he wanted.
Mirai blinked.
Then she smiled—softly, genuinely.
"What magic are you using?" she asked, curiosity glowing in her eyes instead of fear. "I've never seen anything like that before."
Zeroth clenched his jaw.
He hated that question.
Because he didn't have an answer.
"I don't know myself," he said.
It was the truth, and he hated that even more.
Mirai frowned, clearly dissatisfied. She took a small step closer. "Hey, come on. You have to know something."
He stayed silent.
"Please?" she added, her voice quieter now.
Something snapped.
"I. DON'T. KNOW."
His voice cut through the air like a blade.
Mirai froze.
She took a step back, her hands clenching together nervously. "It's fine," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to— I'll see you later, Zeroth."
She turned and left.
Zeroth watched her go.
For longer than he wanted to admit.
Then he turned and continued toward his cabin.
For now, he just wanted to rest.
But rest didn't come.
The voices did.
"You saved someone from the bloodline that hurts your mother."
"You disgrace."
"What are you doing?"
"Is this really what you're doing to achieve power?"
Zeroth pressed his hands against his ears, teeth grinding.
"Shut up," he whispered.
They didn't.
Mirai's face flashed in his mind.
Then his mother's.
Tears streamed down his cheeks before he even realized he was crying.
"I miss you," he whispered into the darkness. "I just want you to stop suffering."
"Please," he begged. "Please stop. I don't want to hear you anymore. Please. Just please."
Laughter echoed through his mind.
"Hahahaha. I will never stop, Zukiro Zeroth. Have you forgotten who you are?"
"The weakest."
"The disgrace."
"I don't listen to something of such low value."
The night passed slowly.
Painfully.
Even in his sleep, Zeroth found himself standing in the same place again.
War.
Death.
Screams.
Bodies piled upon bodies.
And there it was.
The figure.
Standing in front of him.
Waiting.
"Welcome back, Zeroth," the figure said calmly.
"No," Zeroth whispered, stepping back. "No, this can't be happening. Why are you here again? Please. Get me out of here."
The figure tilted its head slightly.
"You want to give up already?" it asked. "Should I show you what your mother is experiencing right now?"
Zeroth's heart stopped.
"Maybe then," the figure continued, "you'll stop crying over my little voices."
"I hate you," Zeroth snarled. "I will kill you."
The figure chuckled.
"Well, you don't even know who I am, do you, little brat?"
"I don't care," Zeroth said, his fists shaking. "I will destroy you."
"Do you believe in fate?" the figure asked suddenly. "Or do you believe that everything you do is something new?"
The word fate sent a chill down Zeroth's spine.
Kaelor's voice echoed in his mind.
A God of Fate.
Fear wrapped around his heart.
"What do you want from me?!" he screamed.
"Nothing," the figure replied. "And that's why you're the weakest."
Zeroth frowned.
"You always say you'd do everything for your dream," the figure continued. "So let's test that."
"Kill ten people."
Zeroth froze.
"For no reason," the figure added lightly.
"What?" Zeroth shouted. "That's insane!"
"Having no reason is a reason," the figure said.
And the words… made sense.
That terrified him.
"Who?" Zeroth asked quietly.
"Anyone."
"I'll kill you," Zeroth snapped.
The pressure hit instantly.
Pain unlike anything he'd felt before crushed him from the inside. His knees buckled. His vision blurred.
"Okay," he gasped. "Okay. I won't. Please. Stop."
Silence.
Then—
"Good," the figure said coldly. "Now go. Get stronger."
"And remember—"
"Every decision has its own consequences," Zeroth finished.
The figure smiled.
When Zeroth opened his eyes, he was still asleep.
Inside his mind.
Battles raged everywhere.
People fighting.
Dying.
Screaming.
He hit his own head. "Wake up. Wake up, you idiot."
Nothing.
Then he saw it.
A man's head rolling across the ground.
Blood everywhere.
He swallowed.
If this is my mind…
Then this is my training ground.
"HEY!" Zeroth shouted. "FIGHT ME!"
A man turned toward him, trembling. "I—I don't want to—"
Zeroth rushed him.
Too fast.
Too reckless.
The man raised his hand.
Wind magic exploded outward.
Zeroth was lifted into the air, spun violently, then slammed into the ground.
Pain.
Real pain.
Bones screaming.
Zeroth screamed too.
But he stood up.
Again.
His eyes went blank.
The ground cracked beneath the man's feet.
Black aura swallowed Zeroth.
Lightning struck.
The man died instantly.
A voice echoed.
"Nine."
Zeroth laughed.
Not happily.
Not sanely.
"One more," he whispered.
And deep inside, something smiled. –
Zeroth noticed the same pattern again.
His magic only worked… when he had a purpose.
That realization didn't comfort him.
It terrified him.
Because now, the question was no longer how his power worked.
It was why.
The battlefield around him shifted.
Smoke twisted unnaturally. The ground cracked and reformed as if the world itself was breathing.
Then he moved again.
His second kill was not a fight.
It wasn't even a confrontation.
A woman lay on the ground, her body already broken, blood soaking into the soil beneath her. She was breathing—but barely. Her eyes widened when she noticed him.
Zeroth stopped.
Just for a moment.
Then he grabbed a blade from the ground.
He didn't announce himself.
He didn't look her in the eyes.
He stepped behind her.
And struck.
The blade sank in far too easily.
Her body jerked once.
Then went still.
"Eight."
The voice was emotionless.
Zeroth staggered back, his breathing uneven.
His hands were shaking.
Not because he felt guilty.
But because… part of him didn't.
He ran.
Not away.
Forward.
He searched desperately—opponents, victims, anything.
But before he could find another—
Everything vanished.
The battlefield collapsed into nothingness.
Silence.
Then—
He stood in front of someone familiar.
Too familiar.
His mother.
She stood there exactly as he remembered her. Her tired eyes. Her worn clothes. The gentle way she looked at him, as if apologizing just for existing.
"Death shall be hers."
The voice echoed through the void.
Zeroth froze.
"NO." His scream tore through the space. "THAT'S UNFAIR!"
"I CAN'T KILL MY MOTHER—EVEN IF THIS IS MY MIND!"
The figure appeared before him.
Calm.
Unmoved.
"Listen carefully, kid," it said. "You promised yourself something."
"To do everything, and anything."
"At any time."
"No matter what."
"For your dreams."
Zeroth shook violently. "No… no… not this… I won't."
"Death shall be inevitable in your hands," the figure continued coldly.
"What," it mocked, "you don't want to become stronger anymore?"
Something inside Zeroth screamed.
Then—
His hands moved.
Not fast.
Not violently.
Almost… naturally.
The blade cut deep.
Too deep.
Zeroth stood there, frozen, staring at what he had done.
Silence.
Then it shattered him.
"MOTHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER!!!"
His scream was raw, animalistic, completely broken.
The world snapped back into place.
"Seven."
Even though it was only inside his mind—
It felt real.
Too real.
Zeroth turned toward the figure, his eyes hollow.
"I didn't move my arms," he said quietly. "You did."
The figure chuckled.
"No," it replied. "I can't control your body here."
"That was you."
"A part of you that is far hungrier than the rest."
"Why don't you follow him?"
Zeroth snapped.
"SHUT UP!" he screamed. "IT CAN'T BE— I WOULD NEVER!"
But even as he shouted—
He knew.
Something inside him had already crossed the line.