Chapter 1: The Pact

During the chaos of the riots, there was a child, no older than eight years. He had long strands of blue-black hair, and his deep blue eyes empty and cold seemed to betray no emotion. It was as if the war had stolen all sense of feeling from him. He had witnessed death, heard the screams of agony, yet nothing seemed to affect him. The destruction, the suffering, it all passed by him like a distant storm, something he could see but not feel. It was then that a group of Knight Scouters found him in the Outer Ruins of Eldora. Their mission was clear, to search for survivors and bring them to the Upper Layers of Eldora, where the rich and the powerful hid away from the chaos below. They weren’t there to protect the vulnerable or to stop the violence, but to salvage what was left of the city’s lower districts. It was then they crossed Paths with the young boy, they seem not of worried or cared about the young boy but, all they needed to do was bring the boy back to the upper Layers of Eldora, As one of the scouters cautiously approached the young boy, hand outstretched, a sudden crack split the sky. A blinding flash of light followed, and, in an instant, a bolt of lightning came crashing down from above, striking the scouter with terrifying precision. His body was hurled backward, smoke curling from his scorched armor as he crumpled to the ground. For a heartbeat, time stood still. The remaining scouts froze in place, their eyes wide with terror. None could explain what they had just witnessed. The skies above were heavy with clouds, but no storm had threatened. It was as if something ancient, unseen, had chosen to protect the boy… he hadn’t moved. Not a step. Not a flinch. He simply stared, his deep blue eyes dull and unreadable, as if lightning meant nothing to him at all. That stillness shattered the knights. Overcome with panic, they turned and fled scrambling over debris and ruins desperate to return to the Upper Layers of Eldora. The throne hall doors slammed open as a group of scouts burst inside, their armor scuffed and their faces pale, dropping to one knee before the throne where King Kaku sat eyes sharp beneath the weight of a crown forged in war. “My lord! We bring back news!” one of the scouts stammered, and Kaku leaned forward slightly, his gaze cutting through the room like a blade. “What is it?” he asked, calm yet commanding. The lead scout hesitated, glancing nervously at the others before speaking. “We were in the Outer Ruins of Eldora, searching for survivors… when we found a boy.” Kaku’s brows furrowed. “A boy? And this warrants such a frantic return?” “Y-yes, my lord,” the scout replied quickly. “He was alone. Unharmed. Just… standing there. But when we tried to approach, a lightning bolt struck one of us. From the sky with no storm in sight. It was as if something was protecting him.” The hall fell into a stunned silence as Kaku’s fingers tapped slowly against the armrest. “And this child… what of him?” “He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He just stared at us… with eyes like he didn’t belong to this world,” the scout murmured, trembling. “We ran. We didn’t dare get closer.” “And you didn’t get his name?” Kaku asked, his voice quieter but far more dangerous. The scout shook his head. “No, my king. None of us could even ask. There was… something about him.” With a dismissive wave, Kaku sent them away, the great doors groaning shut behind them. Only silence remained. Malik stepped forward from the shadows beside the throne, his voice low and cautious. “My king… you look disturbed. Was it something in their report?” Kaku didn’t respond immediately his jaw clenched, his gaze unfocused, as if peering through time itself. “A child,” he finally said. “Eyes like ice. Untouched by fear. Protected by lightning itself.” Malik tilted his head. “You believe this child is important?” Kaku’s tone dropped to a whisper. “He reminds me of someone. Someone I once knew.” “Who?” Malik asked gently. A long pause followed. “His name is not yours to know,” Kaku said at last, his voice distant and cold. “Not yet.” Malik bowed and stepped back, respectfully. Kaku rose slowly from his throne, ancient power simmering around him like heat from dying embers and approached the tall arched window that overlooked the lands of Eldora. His eyes were drawn to the horizon, lost in memories older than the palace walls. “If it truly is him… then something impossible has occurred.” His voice softened to a whisper. “You were taken by Death himself. No soul escapes him. Not even yours… Zero.” He shook his head, struggling to push the thought away. “That child… no. I don’t think it’s him. It can’t be. He died decades ago…” The words slipped from his lips, almost like a breath, fragile with disbelief. “There’s no way he could be alive… or even reincarnated.” His fist clenched tightly at his side. “But even then… reincarnation is rare nearly impossible. And yet…” His brows knitted as his thoughts spiraled. “Why him?” he muttered. “Why would Death himself choose him?” Silence answered him, but the question lingered like smoke in his mind. “No… maybe I’m overthinking it. Maybe it’s just a coincidence. The hair… the eyes… that stillness.” His voice trembled, almost reverent now. “Long black hair with a blue tint… deep blue eyes like frozen oceans…” He exhaled sharply, trying to bury the hope clawing at his chest. “Maybe it is him. But maybe… not.” A heavy silence wrapped itself around Kaku’s thoughts as he stared out across Eldora’s horizon, the weight of possibility pressing against his chest. Then, his voice cut through the quiet like a blade through cloth low, resolved, with a hint of something ancient stirring beneath. “Malik…” he said, not turning his gaze. Malik stepped forward immediately, attentive. “Go get the boy for me. I want to see who he is... with my own eyes.” Malik pushed forward through the decaying ruins of Eldora, his crimson and violet flames flickering faintly in the heavy air, the remnants of destruction echoing around him. The deeper he went, the more oppressive the atmosphere became, as if the very earth itself was holding its breath. His mission was clear find the boy and return him to King Kaku. Soon, Malik spotted the figure of a child standing alone amidst the crumbled stone and shattered remnants of the city. His long black-blue hair swayed with the wind, and his eyes, deep and cold like frozen oceans, glowed faintly under the dim light. There was something unsettling about him, as if he didn’t belong in this place or even in this world. The boy stood motionless, his expression empty, not a trace of fear or emotion. Malik’s heart skipped a beat, a sudden shiver running down his spine. He had been expecting someone, but not this. "Boy," Malik called out, his voice steady, though an unknown unease gripped him. "King Kaku has sent for you." For a long moment, there was nothing but silence, the wind rustling through the ruins. Then the boy’s eyes shifted, locking onto Malik’s with unnerving calm. There was no fear, no reaction just an unsettling emptiness. "You are the one," Malik muttered, more to himself than to the boy, “the one the king spoke of…” Without warning, the ground trembled, and Malik’s senses flared as a new danger approached. The air thickened, and the once-silent ruins came to life with growls and snarls. Malik’s eyes darted to the shadows as twisted monsters, creatures of darkness, emerged, their glowing eyes locked on the boy. Malik stepped forward, his body tensing in preparation, and raised his hand, summoning his purple flames, ready to defend. His red flames surged at his side. But before he could strike, the boy moved. The child extended his hand, and a low hum of energy filled the air. The monsters froze, their growls dying in their throats as if the boy’s very presence had paralyzed them. They turned and fled, retreating into the darkness without a word or further resistance. Malik stood, stunned. What kind of power was this? The child’s eyes flickered with an unsettling calm before he lowered his hand, then returned his gaze to Malik. Without a word, the boy stepped forward, following Malik quietly, as if the monsters had never been there. Malik, still processing what had just happened, exhaled sharply. There was something ancient and forbidden about this child’s power something that made his skin crawl. He looked back at the boy, a mixture of awe and confusion in his expression. With a steady breath, he spoke softly, “Come with me. The king awaits.” The child didn’t respond, but he followed, his steps as silent as his presence, leaving Malik to wonder what King Kaku would make of this strange, unnerving child. Malik led the boy through the labyrinth of Eldora's ruined streets, the weight of the silence pressing down on them. The boy walked without a sound, his movements eerie in their calm, as if the world around him held no meaning. Malik glanced over at him from time to time, unsure of what to make of this child who, in a mere instant, had commanded monsters to retreat with nothing more than a gesture. The air grew colder as they neared the throne room, the faint hum of ancient magic lingering in the atmosphere. Malik’s thoughts were tangled, his mind racing to piece together what had just transpired. What was the true nature of this boy? And why did he have a power that should have been impossible, something even Malik, with all his strength, couldn’t explain? As they reached the doors of the throne room, Malik hesitated. The boy stopped at the threshold, his eyes never leaving Malik’s, as if sensing the unease within him. With a quiet sigh, Malik pushed open the massive doors, revealing the throne room bathed in soft, golden light. King Kaku sat in his usual position, his posture regal and commanding, his sharp eyes catching every detail. The air in the room seemed to shift as the boy entered, his presence undeniably powerful, though he remained as still and emotionless as ever. Kaku’s gaze flicked to Malik, then to the boy, a flicker of recognition crossing his features. “So, it is you,” Kaku said, his voice low but steady. Malik bowed his head, standing at attention. “My king, I present the boy.” The boy remained silent, his expression unreadable. Kaku studied him closely, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in every detail the boy’s hair, the cold blue of his eyes, the way he carried himself as if untouched by the world around him. For a long moment, Kaku said nothing. His mind raced, thoughts flashing back to the impossible possibility he had considered could this truly be him? Could this child be the one he had known long ago, the one who had fallen at Death’s hands? He stood slowly, his ancient power subtly rippling through the room. “You have much to explain, child,” Kaku spoke, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with authority. “I have questions that must be answered.” The boy did not respond. His eyes remained locked on Kaku, unblinking, as if waiting for something. Kaku’s gaze softened for a fraction of a moment. A deep, hidden sorrow stirred within him. But it was quickly masked, and his voice grew firm again. “Who are you?” The boy did not flinch. Slowly, he opened his mouth, his voice like an echo from another world. “Zero,” he whispered. The word hung in the air like a ghost, sending a chill through the room. Malik’s heart skipped a beat, and Kaku’s expression faltered, a flicker of something deep within his eyes recognition, disbelief, and fear all at once. “Zero…” Kaku repeated softly. “Impossible…” “no its impossible for you to be named Zero. You can’t be him! He died decades ago!” “But at the same time...Humans or any living creature can reincarnate as something new or themselves after they died..” Kaku exhales sharply “Well Zero, why don't you train under me, and be able to control and have actual emotions, What do you say?” Zero looks up at him with Emptiness of emotions and pain in his eyes, he slowly opens his mouth “Sure...” he whispers. Kaku thinks “if he is actually Zero from decades ago then if I train him under me, then I can surely Have him as the next hair to the throne!” “Hey Zemini..” Kaku speaks inside his mind. “Yes Kaku what is it?” Kaku replies “You see this boy..?” “yes Indeed I do Kaku” Zemini answers back “well you see if I train him under me, are you both willing to separate so one of you both can go inside Zero..” Zemini Hesitates to reply but speaks “Yes Me and Zen are willing to separate but in one condition if this boy cant handle the power, evil, that's within Zen then we will go back to as one!” “Your condition is acceptable.” Zemini starts to split into two beings, one black one white being. The white being began to slowly pull out of Kaku body, Zero and Malik starts seeing this weird shaped white being with bright yellow eyes with a single hole size of fist through the chest, it starts to flow into the air and looks straight at Zero, it speaks in a high low dark pitch voice “So...your...the...boy..” Zero looks up at him only seeing destruction and evil within the eyes of Zen. Zen starts to move towards Zero. He’s face to face with Zero. Zen speaks “Are...you...Willing...to...let...me...inside...your body?...” His voice echoes around the throne room, sending dark chilling shivers around everyone but Kaku. Zero looks at him in the dead of his eyes and answers “what do I get if you become apart of me..?” Zen Answers “you get power...” Zero sharply exhales “Fine...Become one with me..!” Zen starts to go inside of Zero as he does a mask starts forming on his face, his eyes starts changing color from this blue to Bright yellow, with the outer eye being black like the abyss. Zen is fully one with Zero. The mask starts to crack and break off of Zero face, Zero reaches to his face and grabs a hold of the mask and pulls it off crushes the mask with his fist. The mask crumbles into dust, Zero eyes goes back to his original state. Kaku noticed a spark of fire in Zero eyes. Zero speaks up “Now that I have Zen in me, when do we start this training thing?” Kaku speaks “Ah that I almost forgot about that, well Malik show him to his dorm room have him get all cleaned up” “yes my lord.” Malik replies, and takes Zero to his dorm room. “here’s your dorm room it has a bed, a bathroom, a closet for your clothes, and a desk.” “thank you very much Malik, tell King Kaku I be out in just a bit.” Zero speaks, “as you wish young Zero” Malik Exits the room and goes to Kaku. “Kaku the boy is now get cleaned up as we speak” “thank you Malik you may go now” Kaku replies, “thank you Kaku I be on my way”. Zero proceeds to get undress and Zen pops out of Zero as a glob of white particles circling around that white mask that Zero broke, “I noticed something when I was going inside your body, your body already had a place for me, it had a spot in your body, your body had multiple of Cages for entities...” Zen speaks “It’s like your body is meant for more than one Being..” Zero looks up at the mask “Yea I know...I felt it too..” “very well than. Let me fully introduce myself...I am Zentistu, I go by as Zen but free feel to call me either of the two, I am something that is called a Hollow, and you are?” Zentistu speaks “As you know… I’m Zero,” he said, his voice low, breath shaky. “The reason I was in the lower part of Eldora… is because my parents left me there. Abandoned me. I saw them get slaughtered—right in front of my eyes.” Zentistu’s glowing eyes flickered—just for a moment—before a wicked grin stretched across his masked face. His eyes widened briefly before narrowing into a cruel squint. “Pathetic,” he spat. “Watching your precious mommy and daddy die must’ve shattered your tiny heart. But maybe—just maybe—they wanted it that way. Maybe they looked into your cursed little face and realized you weren’t worth saving. Maybe they dropped you because of those eyes... those damned eyes!” He leaned in, voice dripping with venom. “Your eyes don’t look human… they look like his. Like a demon’s. Maybe that’s why they left you. Maybe that’s why they died!” The air grew thick. A blue spark of flame flared at Zero’s feet. His hands trembled—not from fear, but sheer rage. Heat began radiating from him, the walls humming faintly in response. His fists ignited with flickering Azura flames, burning bright blue—reacting violently to the storm inside him. Zentistu continued, still smirking. “No wonder you're so empty inside. Your existence was a mistake—” He never finished. With a growl that sounded more beast than boy, Zero lunged. Flames erupted around him in a spiraling burst of energy. In one swift, fluid motion, Zero’s hand shot out—and jammed his fingers deep into Zentistu’s throat. But this time, they sank in, piercing past the spiritual shell of the Hollow and grabbing hold of something more real—his physical essence. Zentistu’s body jolted. His eyes widened in visible shock. “W-what…?” Blue fire erupted from Zero’s palm, bursting out around Zentistu’s mask as though the flames themselves were alive. They writhed and lashed like serpents, wrapping around his neck, his shoulders, trying to consume him. “You’ve said enough,” Zero hissed, voice low, distorted by fury. And with that, he hurled him. Zentistu’s body slammed through the door like a wrecking ball, a deafening CRASH shaking the entire corridor. Metal tore. Wood splintered. A shockwave of blue fire surged outward, scorching the floor and walls, light fixtures flickering violently as the Hollow’s body skidded across the hallway—leaving behind a trail of smoke, embers, and cracked tile. The door was gone—obliterated into ash, the steel hinges melted. Guards raced around the corner—but froze instantly. There stood the boy, surrounded by a dying storm of flickering blue flames, his silhouette backlit by the carnage, glowing eyes cutting through the thick smoke. Zentistu groaned as he slowly rose from the wreckage, his cloak singed, the cracks on his mask glowing faintly with white-hot energy. He wiped soot from the corner of his mouth, chuckling darkly, his voice echoing with a mixture of static and malice. “Well well… I see you’ve got bite, after all…” he hissed, flexing his neck with a sharp crack. “That was the first time in decades anyone’s dared lay a hand on me—let alone slam me through a door like a rag doll.” His mask pulsed—once. Then again. Small flickers of white light surged through the cracks, the shattered fragments beginning to reforge, fusing back together like shattered glass reversed in time. “You’re full of rage… I can feel it burning inside you,” Zentistu said, brushing ash from his shoulders. “That fire… those Azura flames… deliciously dangerous.” He stood straighter now, still laughing under his breath. “You’re not just a host… you’re a weapon. A child like you— already capable of channeling that much raw hatred into power…” He whistled low. “Terrifying.” He took a step forward—slower this time, measured. No more smug superiority. Only fascination. “I underestimated you, kid. That’s on me.” Then, behind the fractured mask… a grin. “But now I know. You’re not just some lost boy. You’re the beginning of something dangerous… and I like dangerous.” Bit by bit, Zentistu’s form began to dissolve—particles of white light breaking off from his cloak, his limbs, his chest. He began vanishing into the Floating Particle Mask, slipping back into the shadows where no guard could follow. The corridor’s heat began to die with him. The blue light faded. The moment passed. But the tension? Still sharp. Still crackling in the silence. King Kaku stepped into the corridor, his presence quiet but commanding, the smoke curling around him and parting as if the air itself acknowledged his arrival. His boots pressed softly against scorched tile and shattered metal, trailing through the wreckage without pause. The destruction didn’t faze him—he’d seen far worse in wars that stretched beyond mortal comprehension. Obliterated doors, scorched walls, spiritual residue—mere remnants compared to the chaos he once walked through. But his eyes didn’t linger on the damage. They locked onto the boy. Zero stood at the center of it all, chest rising and falling, body still outlined in faint flickers of blue flame—his Azuraflames. And beyond him, the corridor told a silent story: a trail of cracked floor, melting steel, and the remnants of Zentistu, an elite Hollow who should not, could not, be injured by a child. Kaku’s brow lifted slightly, the only crack in his otherwise unreadable expression. A scratch. Zero had put a scratch on Zentistu. That alone was more shocking than the entire scene. He said nothing at first, arms folded behind his back, watching with quiet intensity—not judging, but measuring. Like a blacksmith watching a blade emerge from raw ore—rough, but promising. “...Interesting,” he murmured to himself, eyes briefly scanning the spiral of scorched stone beneath the boy’s feet. The heat felt familiar. Too familiar. A power he hadn’t felt since long before Eldora fell. “I’ve seen strength like this before… but never this early. Never from someone so… young.” His voice was quiet, nearly lost to the fading static of battle. He stepped forward, passing a frozen guard without looking. “Dismissed,” he whispered, and the soldiers vanished without a word, leaving only silence and tension in their wake. Now it was just the king and the boy. Kaku gazed down at him—not with disdain, but with something unreadable, like awe buried beneath caution. “You scratched Zentistu,” he said at last, voice even, steady. “I’ve fought him myself. That Hollow is a phantom among titans. I’ve seen men three times my strength fail to lay a hand on him.” He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. “But you did.” A beat of silence passed before he leaned in, just enough for his voice to slip into something quieter. Curious. Nearly reverent. “Either you’re a miracle… or a memory trying to claw its way back into the world.” Then he stood tall once more, the kingly composure returning, his thoughts hidden again behind centuries of poisen—but inside, something stirred. Something rare. Possibility.