[Chp 15] The Truth

Weeks had passed since Zero awoke in the Realm of Hollows. Training with Zen had been nothing short of brutal—nonstop, unforgiving, and merciless. “Come on!” Zen roared, his voice echoing across the endless white desert. “Is that all you’ve got? Release my power from within your soul!” With a burst of pressure, Zen struck. The blow sent Zero flying, his body crashing into a dune of ghost-white sand. Zero spat out grit and groaned. “I’m trying, dammit!” he shouted, forcing himself to his feet. “It’s not that easy!” “Then try harder!” Zen surged forward with a downward slash. Zero barely dodged, the blade carving a deep gouge in the sand beside him. “Why don’t you have your own blade yet?” Zen growled. “Your blade is a part of your soul—my power!” He pointed at Zero with fury in his voice. “You won’t eat until you’ve formed and summoned a blade from your soul!” Zero’s hand suddenly began to pulse with energy—black and white strands swirling and crackling around his arm. “Oh, now you wanna take my food away?!” Zero snapped. “Fine—take this!!” A burst of raw energy exploded from his hand, engulfing half his arm in glowing power. With a primal yell, he dashed forward and slammed his fist into Zen’s face, sending him skidding back across the sand. Zen caught himself mid-slide and chuckled, rubbing his jaw. “Now... that’s what I call G Energy.” A smirk crept across his face. “Finally, you’ve tapped into it.” He exhaled slowly, his gaze distant. “G Energy is mine. We Hollows use Veyrix—but that energy’s weak. Too weak for me. So I created something stronger… G Energy. A hundred times more potent.” His voice dropped, a strange mix of pride and sorrow laced through it. “It’s what made me King of this realm.” A pause. “But after my battle with Zarif... I vanished. I only returned a few weeks ago. And now… I’m no longer the ruler of this place.” Zero’s eyes narrowed. “You, Kaku, and Voragoth mentioned Zarif… Who the hell is he?!” Zen sighed. “I guess it’s about time you knew the truth…” He looked Zero dead in the eyes. “Every time I mentioned Zarif, it was because… you have fragments of him inside you. Zarif had requested to be remembered as Zero the God Slayer. But Zarif was more than just a human…” Zen’s voice darkened. “He was a demon… a dragon… a hollow… and even part god.” Zen paused again. “Even though he had godhood in him, he wasn’t a true god—not without his divine name. That name was Zenthara, the Timeless Shuriken.” A beat of silence passed before Zen said solemnly, “Even I was a part of him.” Zero’s eyes widened, breath catching in his throat. His mind raced as he tried to process it all. “Wait… you’re telling me I can be all of this? A demon, a dragon, a hollow, and part god?” His voice trembled with disbelief. He clenched his fists, a storm of excitement and fear rising in his chest. “How is that even possible? What does it mean for me… for who I am?” Zen’s tone turned cold—prophetic. “Only time will tell. Whether you unlock it or not, your fate is tied to Zarif’s. Just like him… you are meant to be the Balancer.” He continued, “Zarif was destined to keep all things in harmony… but he had other plans. He tried to combine the nine realms into one massive realm. But even after forcing them together, the realms have begun drifting apart once more.” Zen stepped forward, his gaze firm. “Now you face the same choice. You can repair the broken chain… become the Balancer… and restore harmony. Or walk the path Zarif chose… and try to merge the realms again.” He paused; eyes locked with Zero’s. “The choice is yours.” Zero’s eyes widened, “I-Is there any more things I should know about myself…” Zero questioned. “Only time will tell…” Zen answered. “Now prepare yourself…I won’t hold back! Your training won’t be easy!” Zen jumped back, “Now take this!” A swirling sphere of black and white energy began forming in the center of his right-hand palm, the sheer pressure distorting the very air. Ghostly sparks erupted from his fingers as the ground beneath cracked and trembled. Zen's hair whipped wildly in the storm of energy spiraling around him. His voice cut through the chaos—loud, deep, and shaking the skies. “Gō…” A low hum shook the realm as the energy pulsed, forming the head of a snarling spectral dragon. Its eyes opened in Zen’s palm, glowing bright white. “RYŪŪŪ…” Winds howled as the dragon’s body spiraled outward, its spiritual roar echoing across the desert. Lightning streaked through the sky. Zen’s eyes glowed with ancient fury. “KEEEEEEEN!!!”
Zen thrust his palm forward with godlike force. The dragon exploded outward, now a colossal beam of coiled light and shadow, screaming across the desert like a living creature. The ground split open, the sky above tore into a vortex of light. Everything the beam touched was vaporized—ghost sand turned to crystal, and dunes were erased from existence. As the final echoes faded, Zen’s silhouette stood tall through the smoke and wind. His right hand slowly lowered. Zero stood frozen beside the smoking crater. “Holy shit…” he smirked, eyes sharp with determination. “Fine then, I won’t hold back either.” He raised his hand to his face, G energy crackling around his fingers. As he slowly moved his hand across his face, a mask formed—jet black and smooth, perfectly molded to his skin. Thick white stripes flowed sharply from the top of the eye holes up into his hairline, and down the sides of his eyes to his jaw, resembling flowing rivers etched across the mask’s surface. A mouthpiece extended over his lips, moving flawlessly in sync with his mouth, as if the mask was fused to him — alive, part of his very being. Zero’s breath hitched as the pressure around him surged, a faint red aura like dying embers glowing softly around his body. He raised his voice just enough to be heard over the crackling energy: “Kokai.” At the word, the crimson aura flared, flames licking the air as his transformation ignited. His clothing shimmered and shifted—the fabric tightening into a sleek, form-fitting black jacket with long sleeves that hugged his arms perfectly. The high collar rose sharply around his neck, framing his determined expression. A wide crimson sash wrapped firmly around his waist, tied with a precise knot that sent two long ends trailing behind him, flickering faintly with energy. His pants were slim and practical, tucked neatly into matte black boots built for swift movement and resilience. The black mask with its bold white stripes fused completely with his face, every line flowing perfectly with the angular edges of his new outfit. Zero stood ready—a warrior refined and focused, the embodiment of the Kokai form’s fierce elegance. Zen’s eyes narrowed as he locked onto Zero. “So your Kokai form… It’s like Zarif’s Kokai… Interesting… Very interesting!” His gaze sharpened, then widened with realization. “Well, guess I’m the exact opposite of you then!” he declared, exhaling steadily. A pure white aura began to glow around his body, bright and radiant. “KOKAI!” With the shout, Zen’s Kokai activated — his form mirroring Zero’s, but instead of black, his sleek outfit and mask were inverted to pristine white, glowing with the same fierce elegance. Zero’s crimson aura flared brighter as he flexed his right hand, the energy gathering like liquid fire swirling around his fingers. Slowly, a thin, glowing thread of scarlet light spun out from his palm, twisting and coiling through the air like a serpent made of flame. With a sharp snap of his wrist, the thread of light raced forward, weaving rapidly into a solid shape. In an instant, the glowing outline sharpened and hardened, transforming into the sleek blade of Shinku—a slender katana of deep black with faint red veins pulsing along its surface. Zero clenched the hilt, the crimson energy coursing up his arm as the sword hummed with latent power, ready to unleash devastating speed and precision in battle. Zen’s body glowed with radiant white energy as he extended his right arm forward, fingers splayed wide. From his palm, a brilliant silver thread of light unfurled—pure and sharp as ice, shimmering with ethereal brilliance. The light twisted and spiraled upward like a flickering ghost flame, weaving itself into a shimmering blade. With a smooth, fluid motion, the glowing thread solidified into Hakuryu — the White Dragon’s Fang. Unlike Zero’s sleek black katana, Hakuryu was a slender rapier with an elegant, curved guard resembling dragon wings. Its blade gleamed bright silver with faint blue runes etched along its length, pulsating softly with serene but deadly energy. Zen grasped the hilt firmly as Hakuryu thrummed in harmony with his aura, a blade built for precision, grace, and swift strikes that cut through darkness. Zero’s and Zen’s eyes locked for a brief, charged moment—then, in a flash, both vanished. A sharp clang echoed through the air as they reappeared mid-swing, their blades colliding in a brilliant burst of red and white energy. “And when did you gain this form, may I ask?” Zen said calmly. “During those seven years you were gone—or however long it was,” Zero replied, pressing his blade firmly against Zen’s. “I discovered it while training alone… but I haven’t used it again—until now! Now enough talk!” Their blades clashed once more, sparks bursting from the impact as energy surged outward. But something had changed. The blows slowed. The pressure between them no longer strained to overwhelm—it pulsed with mutual respect. They weren’t just testing strength anymore… they were recognizing it. Zero and Zen locked eyes, their weapons grinding together in a final push—then, almost at the same moment, they stepped back. Their auras—crimson and white—flickered, then gently faded. Zen lowered Hakuryu, his voice quiet. “You’ve grown.” Zero gave a small nod, letting Shinku rest at his side. “So have you.” A moment of silence hung between them, heavy with everything left unsaid—but fully understood. Zen looked toward the horizon, where the red mists of the Hollow Realm swirled endlessly. “Still… there’s more. More to master. More to become.” Zero sheathed his blade. “Then let’s begin again. From here.” Above, the sky cracked faintly with shifting light as the veil between worlds shimmered in warning—time moved differently here. But time was no longer their enemy. It was their crucible.