The holographic clock on the wall flickered—6:47 AM. Zero's bloodshot eyes drifted toward it, his vision blurred from hours of staring at reports. His office reeked of stale coffee and ink, the air thick with the hum of outdated cooling units struggling against the heat of his overworked terminals. Stacks of legislative drafts towered around him like a paper fortress, each one a battle he'd fought and won. Or lost. These days, he couldn't tell the difference.
Click. Click. Click.
His pen tapped rhythmically against the desk, a nervous tic he'd developed after his third all-nighter this week. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the capital sprawled beneath him—a kaleidoscope of neon-lit skyscrapers, floating transport lanes, and the ever-present shadow of imperial airships blotting out the sun. A city of 100 million souls, all demanding his attention. All *his* responsibility.
Reng reng. Reng reng.
The rotary phone on his desk shuddered, its brass surface dull under the fluorescent lights. Zero didn't flinch. This was the seventh call in three hours. He knew who it was.
Let it ring. Just one more page.
He squinted at the proposal in his hands: Amendment 74-B: Subsidized Housing for Beastkin Refugees. His jaw tightened. The council had rejected it twice already. Too "costly," they claimed. Too "divisive." Zero's grip crumpled the paper's edge. Costly? The same council that approved a 20-million-credit statue of the late Overseer Jason last week.
Reng reng. Reng reng.
"Sir!" The voice exploded from the intercom, sharp with panic. Zero jolted, nearly upending his inkwell.
"Hana," he sighed, massaging his temple. "I told you to stop routing calls through the—"
"You haven't eaten! Or slept! Or blinked, probably!" Hana's hologram flickered to life above his desk—a petite woman with neon-pink hair and a glare that could melt steel. Her avatar wore a nurse's uniform, a not-so-subtle dig at his "health." "Your vitals are spiking again. When was the last time you left this room?"
"Tuesday."
"It's Friday."
"Time flies when you're revolutionizing public transit," he muttered, scribbling notes on the housing proposal.
Hana's hologram leaned closer. "You're not a machine, sir. Even the Knights take breaks. And they can bench-press buildings."
"The Knights aren't responsible for a city that'd implode if a sewage bill passes late." He waved her off. "I'm fine. Just… busy."
"Busy dying." Her voice softened. "Your mother called. Again. Fifty-three times."
Zero's pen froze. A drop of ink bled into the paper, staining Amendment 74-B like a black tear.
The drive to Knights' HQ was a blur of chrome and chaos. Zero's vintage hovercar—a relic from Overseer Jason's "collector" phase—weaved through airborne traffic, its solar fins slicing through smog. He rolled down the window, letting the cacophony of Pyralis drown his thoughts: vendors hawking spell-crystals, children laughing on levitating scooters, the distant roar of a dragon patrolling the trade lanes.
Normal. Safe. Everything he'd fought for.
Yet his knuckles stayed white on the steering wheel.
A billboard flashed ahead— "OVERSER ZERO APPROVAL RATING: 67%." He grimaced. Down 3% this week. The headline below it stung worse: "MR. K STRIKES AGAIN: Corruption Scandal Exposed After CEO's 'Suicide'."
Hypocrite, his mind hissed. You lecture the Knights about ethics while playing executioner at night.
He switched lanes violently, ignoring the honks.
Knights' HQ loomed—a obsidian monolith piercing the clouds. Zero parked between a dwarf's steam-powered tank and a dragon's… whatever that shimmering bio-mech was. The lobby's AI scanned him instantly.
[Identity confirmed: Zero Alden, Overseer of Pyralis Capital. Security clearance: Omega.]
The elevator doors parted to a wall of laughter. Zero paused in the threshold, watching amber light from floating braziers dance across the Knights' circular chamber. The scent of Ironheart's spiced beer and Howlblade's musk oil hit him first—a comforting chaos after days of sterile offices.
"—so I told the councilman, 'If you want my vote, lick the dragon!'" Sage slammed his goblet down, golden scales flashing across his human-form knuckles. The 8,000-year-old dragon's laughter boomed like tectonic plates shifting.
"Barbaric," Sun Knight murmured, though her elven lips twitched. She floated a teacup with telekinesis, the steam curling around her crown of living ivy. "We are meant to *elevate* mortal politics, not wallow in their vulgarity."
"Says the woman who turned a warlord into a rosebush," Shadow purred from the darkest corner. The dark elf's obsidian armor drank the light around him.
"A productive rosebush," Sun corrected. "Its thorns now protect orphanages."
Blood Knight materialized behind Zero, fangs glinting. "Our Overseer arrives! Did mommy pack your lunch, little human?" Cold fingers brushed Zero's neck.
"Back off, leech." Howlblade's clawed hand yanked Blood away by his collar. The tiger-woman's striped tail lashed as she shoved a pastry into Zero's hands. "Eat. You look like week-old carrion."
"Charming as ever, Howlblade." Zero bit into the honeyed dough—still warm. Her ear twitched in what passed for affection.
Adam's rainbow hair flared brighter as he called order. "Knights. Our wandering leader honors us with his presence." Sarcasm dripped from the Eternal Knight's tone, but his multicolored eyes softened. "What nightmare keeps you chained to that desk, Zero?"
"The usual. Housing reforms. Transit grants. Your unpaid parking tickets." Zero slid into his seat between Shadow and Sun.
"My tickets?" Hellfire leaned forward, flames dancing in his obsidian horns. The teenage demon's tail thumped excitedly. "I told you—the fire department approved my hoverbike modifications!"
Ironclad snorted. The human knight hadn't removed his powered armor since the Void Wars; its reactor hummed dangerously close to Sun's teacup. "Approval requires reading the forms, pyromaniac. Not just burning them."
"Enough." Adam's voice silenced the room. "Report."
---
One by one, they spoke:
Ironheart slammed a molten fingerprint onto the table—dwarven signing customs. "The undercity reactors are failing. Greedy bastards bought cheap mana cores." He glared at Zero. "Your council's work?"
"Not yet." Zero activated a holograph—blueprints. "But my new energy bill could replace them."
The dwarf grunted. "Make it 30% thorium alloy. Or your 'solution' will melt like goblin snot."
Howlblade unsheathed her claws. "Rakghoul nests in District 9. I'll cleanse them tonight." Her pupils narrowed to slits. "Unless *bureaucrats* object?"
"No objections." Zero met her gaze. "But evacuate the squatters first. They're refugees, not hostiles."
A growl rumbled in her throat. "Soft heart. But… wise."
Sun Knight's teacup froze mid-sip. "The Sylvan Embassy demands retribution." Vines crept across the table toward Zero. "Their prince was assassinated by your 'Mr. K.'"
Murmurs rippled. Shadow leaned forward, intrigued.
Zero kept his voice steady. "Evidence?"
"A playing card. The K symbol." Sun's magic made the vines bloom into poisonous nightshade. "They'll declare war unless we surrender the killer."
Adam toyed with a rainbow dagger. "How tragic if their evidence… burned in transit."
"No." Zero crushed the nightshade. "I'll handle it."
Hellfire nearly ignited the table. "Let me barbecue their diplomats! Just a little—"
"No barbecuing," three Knights chorused.
Ironclad activated a hologram—a twisted metal spire spewing black smoke. "Found this in the Wastes. Pre-Collapse tech. Possibly a—"
"Weapon," Shadow finished, appearing suddenly behind Ironclad. The dark elf pressed a dagger to the human's throat. "You crave it. I can taste your hunger."
Ironclad's armor hissed. "Stand down, shadowspawn."
"Children." Adam's whisper cracked like a whip. Both Knights froze. "Zero?"
He studied the hologram. "Salvage it. But Ironclad?"
"Hmm?"
"If this 'tech' melts your face off, I'm not approving medical leave."
The chamber erupted in laughter. Even Sun hid a smile.
Blood Knight materialized upside-down from the ceiling. "Your corruption audits failed, Overseer. The vampire clans still manipulate stock markets."
"I know." Zero activated crime scene photos—executives with K-cards pinned to their chests. "But someone's… motivating them to confess."
Blood's fangs glinted. "How violent of him."
Sage's golden eyes narrowed. "The God's Breath comet approaches. Its magic could ignite the atmosphere." He gripped Zero's shoulder—dragon heat searing through fabric. "Evacuate the southern hemisphere."
"I'll start preparations," Zero said.
"No." Sage's claws drew blood. "Start today."
---
Adam clapped once. "Then we're agreed? Ironclad salvages his death-toy, Howlblade purges vermin, and Zero…" Rainbow light haloed his face. "Stops dying at his desk?"
"Seconded!" Hellfire whooped, setting the minutes-parchment ablaze.
Sun extinguished it with a sigh. "All in favor?"
Nine hands rose—even Blood's, though he crossed his fingers.
Zero stood. "Then if you'll excuse—"
Bang.
The sound echoed like a hammer on bone.
He froze. The Knights' faces blurred—Sun's ivy wilted to ash, Ironheart's beard became worms, Adam's rainbow eyes dripped black oil.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
"Do you… hear that?" Zero whispered.
Shadow tilted his head. "Hear what?"
BANG.
Zero looked down. The marble floor vanished. Only void stretched beneath his boots, infinite and hungry. When he looked up, the Knights were gone. The chamber walls peeled away like rotting skin, revealing a cracked window slick with blood-rain.
Tap.
A skeletal finger pressed against the glass from outside.
Tap. Tap.
Zero turned slowly.
Shadow Knight stood beside him—but wrong. His armor writhed with centipede legs. His face was a hollow pit where his dagger protruded like a metallic tongue.
"You're not him," Zero choked.
The thing smiled with Sun Knight's teeth.
Bang. Bang. BANG—
Glass shattered.
The false Shadow moved faster than light. Zero's head hit the floor before he felt the blade.
He watched his headless body collapse as the decapitator stepped closer. Its dagger morphed into a syringe filled with Adam's rainbow blood.
"Shhh," it cooed with Howlblade's voice. "We'll make you better."
Darkness swallowed the room.
Two massive moons burning crimson in a black sky. No—not moons. Pupils. Dilating. Staring. They drip liquid rot that melts the city below. The screams sound like laughter.
Zero stands.
—standing in a war room, holograms of dying mechs flickering. His hands are gloved in blood. "Artillery sector lost, Commander!" someone shouts. He orders a magic-strike. The ground melts. Soldiers become wax figures, mouths open in silent pleas—
—laughing at a joke Ironheart made, beer foam in the dwarf's beard. Sun Knight's ivy brushes his wrist. Safe. Warm. Why does his spine ache?
—a child's voice: "Why do you help them, Dad?"
CRACK.
Reality splinters.
—running through molten streets. His mech's cockpit is fused to his skin. "Shadow! Cover the east flank!" he screams into comms. No answer. Just static and... chewing sounds. The eyes blink. A soldier beside him vomits teeth.
—Hana's hologram glitches. "Sir, your mother called—" Her face melts into the eyes. "—she says you're a disappointment."
—a bunker. Cold. Quiet. His spine itches. He reaches back—fingers brush a glass vial embedded in his vertebrae. Shadow's essence swirls inside.
"B̵E̸H̴I̵N̷D̵ ̶Y̴O̴U̸."
—rotating just in time to see the tentacle burst from the tank. It punches through his chest, acidic barbs dissolving ribs. He screams. The eyes laugh. Shadow materializes from smoke, dagger severing the monstrosity. "Pathetic," the dark elf sneers, catching Zero's collapsing body.
—waking in the cryopod. Frost on his lips. The vial in his spine pulses. "Power of the Knights," a dead scientist's recording drones. "Last gift. Last hope."
—Ironclad's armor cracks open. Worms with human faces spill out. "Join us," they chorus. Zero burns them. They taste like bacon.
—mom's funeral. Rain hits the coffin. His fault. Always his fault. A playing card in his pocket—K. The priest's eyes melt.
—Shadow drags him through ruins. "Stay awake, fool!" Half his face is gone. Acid ate his jaw. He laughs. Shadow doesn't.
—a mirror. His reflection peels its skin off. "Liar. Killer. Hero."
CLANG.
The cryopod hisses open.
Zero collapses onto frost-bitеn metal, the vial in his spine screaming.
Now.
Here.
Alone.
The bunker's walls drip with familiar black fluid. No corpses. No eyes. Just a cracked terminal: [Project Karma: Terminated].
He crawls.
—crawling through a different ruin, Shadow's dagger in his gut. "Why... save me?" he'd gasped. The dark elf spat blood. "Someone... has to clean... your mess."
—laughing with Hellfire as they roasted marshmallows over a dragon's breath. Simpler lies.
The vial flares— Shadow's power surges. Darkness consumes the room.
When it fades, Zero stands whole.
No.
Not whole.
The vial pulses. The Knights' voices whisper:
"Finish it."
"Avenge us."
"Burn it all."
He limps toward the bunker's exit, each step crunching frozen blood.
The voice wasn't God.
Just a boy who lost his parents.
Just a man who became a monster.
Just a monster who remembers how to cry.