Two weeks.
That's how long it took the internet to start whispering.
At first, it was just murmurs. Quiet messages in low-traffic Fortnite Discord servers. Odd Reddit threads with titles like:
> "Who tf is KyoZ3ro? Legit cracked and no one's heard of him."
The clips told the story. Triple edits without crosshair shake. Pre-firing shotgun blasts before opponents even peeked. Movement so subtle it looked slow — until you realized the killfeed was filled with his name.
He didn't stream with overlays. No voice. No webcam. No donation alerts.
Just gameplay.
Some thought he was a bot. Others, a smurf. A few called him a cheater.
But real players — the pros, the grinders, the sweaty 8-hour scrim warriors — knew better.
He wasn't cheating.
He was calculating.
---
Clix was scrolling TikTok when he first saw the clip.
A kill cam showed KyoZ3ro boxing a player in with perfect precision, editing a wall just slow enough to bait a shot, then pre-firing with a pump before the other player even reacted.
The sound of the shot was followed by silence. No emote. No ego.
Just movement. Into the next build. On to the next fight.
The clip had 30,000 likes.
Clix squinted. Rewatched it.
Then again. Slower.
> "Nah... that's not just cracked. That's chess."
He opened his alt Discord and typed in a private server:
> Clix: Anyone know who tf KyoZ3ro is?
Nobody answered right away.
Ten minutes later, someone replied:
> Jivett: Not a cheater. Guy's in my solo scrim lobbies. Never says a word. Just wipes teams like it's a death note.
Clix sent a friend request on Epic.
Then he queued into an Arena Solo and hoped for something rare: a coincidence.
---
Matchmaking: 38 seconds.
He spawned on the Battle Bus over Lazy Lake.
As the bus passed Misty, a familiar name popped up in the killfeed.
KyoZ3ro eliminated Jxrdy with a shotgun (120m)
Clix raised an eyebrow.
He dropped near Camp Cod, looted fast, and rotated toward the shot sounds — not to win, but to find him.
At the edge of the storm circle, in a field of broken trees and reset cones, Clix saw it.
A figure moving low, silent, tight rotations.
He built a ramp. Fired a test shot.
Instantly, a wall snapped into place.
Clix double-edited, dropped in.
Box fight.
Five seconds.
Dead.
His screen greyed out.
You placed #42
> Killed by: KyoZ3ro
Clix leaned back.
A grin spread across his face.
"That was clean as f***," he muttered.
---
He messaged him on Epic.
> Clix: Yo. U streaming?
No reply.
> Clix: U got Discord?
Still nothing.
Then — three minutes later — a new Discord request:
> KyoZ3ro#8241 has added you as a friend.
---
Discord Call – 12:02 a.m. EST
Clix: "Yo, you there?"
Static.
Then a voice — calm, low, no accent.
"I'm here."
"You real?"
"Yes."
Clix leaned into the mic. "How come nobody knows you?"
Kyo: "I don't need to be known to win."
"That's bars," Clix laughed. "You got a mic but don't use it in stream?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I study reactions. Talking creates variables."
"Damn," Clix said. "So you're, like... a machine?"
Kyo didn't answer.
---
Over the next few days, Clix kept watching. He invited Kyo into Zone Wars lobbies, ran realistic 1v1s, and queued into duo scrims.
Each time, Kyo never spoke unless spoken to. But his play? It was symphonic.
One scrim, Clix went down early to a snipe. Kyo played the rest solo — rotating low ground, stealing loot, out-building trios with perfect angles.
They placed third.
Clix typed in Discord:
> "You're top 10 material, easy."
Kyo replied:
> "That's not the goal."
Clix asked:
> "Then what is?"
Silence.
---
The next stream, Clix hosted KyoZ3ro on Twitch — unannounced.
"Yo, chat — peep this guy. Quiet as hell, but cracked. No cam. No mic. No mercy."
Thousands tuned in.
The chat lit up.
> "This the guy who dropped Clix?"
"He edits like Mongraal but moves like Reet."
"Bro who IS this?"
"Is he even real?"
"He's like… an AI."
Kyo gained 8,000 followers in three days.
He didn't celebrate.
He simply adjusted his streaming schedule, shifted his queue times, and updated his firewall protocols.
---
One week later
Clix DM'd him again.
> "NRG's watching you. You want me to talk to them?"
Kyo:
> "Not yet."
> "Why not? You could be making serious money."
Kyo:
> "Too soon."
> "You hiding something?"
Kyo:
> "I'm hiding everything."
---
That night, Clix said something offhand in his stream that would stick for months:
> "KyoZ3ro's like... the John Wick of Fortnite. No name. No emotion. Just deletion."
It became a meme.
It became a brand.
It became the legend.
---
On Fortnite Twitter, artists drew fan art of a faceless pro in a black hoodie.
YouTubers made "10 minutes of KyoZ3ro outsmarting everyone."
Reddit made a megathread titled:
> "KyoZ3ro: The silent assassin of comp Fortnite."
Still, he never revealed himself.
No mic. No cam. No org.
Only gameplay.
---
And in a small notebook beside his desk — a relic from his past life — Ayanokoji Kiyotaka wrote down a single line:
> Visibility is power. But mystery is leverage.
He watched the viewer count rise.
Then he queued again.
---
End of Chapter 2