"Zero."
A ripple of displacement shimmered in the air beside her, then settled into the shape of a boy lazily floating midair—like gravity was a rumor he'd once heard and never believed.
He looked no older than thirteen or fourteen.
He wore oversized pajamas covered in tiny moons and stars, and a silky eye mask still hung over his face. His hair shimmered like someone had spun the entire color wheel into silk. Wisps of it curled around his cheeks, catching the light in impossible gradients.
With a yawn, he tugged the mask off.
His face was almost too perfect. Big, gentle eyes that glittered like polished opals, framed by lashes thick enough to cast shadows. His lips held the faintest pink, like he'd just bitten into a strawberry, and his cheeks carried a soft, perpetual flush—as if he'd only just woken up.
Which he had.
Adorable.
So adorable, it was wrong.
"Did you take your time on purpose?" Vex asked flatly, still not looking at him.
Zero shrugged. "Maaaaybe. You know how I am with time. I mean, seriously—who rushes to a funeral? That's, like, mega depressing."
His eyes finally settled on the Creoling.
"Whoa! It's a Creoling! Man, it's been forever since I've seen one of these guys. And it's a Pseudo-Legend, too!" He cocked his head. "Weird place for one of those to show up and throw a tantrum though."
"He didn't throw a tantrum. He followed orders."
"Ah," Zero murmured, a flicker passing behind his eyes. "Now that's interesting."
He floated beside her, expression sobering. The levity drained from his voice like blood from a corpse.
"Orders," he repeated. "From who?"
The Creoling remained still. "I will not say. Kill me or do not. It matters little."
"Woooow. Okay. That's bold. Even for a void spawn." Zero's grin curled again—twisted, playful, a little too sharp. "I mean, suicidal loyalty? From your kind? That's… kinda sus."
Vex glanced at him.
There was something beneath that smile now.
And for the first time in a long time… unease crept down her spine.
"What are you thinking, smiling like that?" she asked.
Zero's voice was light again—but not innocent.
"Ohh, nothing," he said. "Let's capture it. Might have information we can extract. Who knows?"
The Creoling looked between the two of them. It's eyes lingering on the colorful kid. He appeared ordinary but he sensed a greater threat from him than from the snow woman. Now they spoke about capturing it.
'I'd rather die than fall into that child's hands' he thought.
Drav'xulen, once hailed as High Warlord due to his uncanny ability to absorb elemental attacks and use them against his opponents whether immediately or years later, had laid waste to civilizations.
His people were people of war and conquest, they entered planets and ravaged them but they loved and craved races that could stand against them and the humans were one of those races.
For decades, they had fought the humans across stars, oceans, deserts, skies. Neither side could claim true victory. Every battlefield ended in blood and stalemate.
Until the pact.
A ceasefire was forged: no Creoling would touch a human world, and no human would set foot on Creoling soil, without going through the proper channels.
It had held—for years. A rare peace, bound not by trust, but by mutual respect.
So why had he—Drav'xulen—broken it?
Why had he leveled Zephyr City?
Why had he obeyed those orders?
The questions burned in the snow woman's eyes.
Drav'xulen's crystals suddenly started to glow before detonating in a flash of light killing himself...or so he thought.
Vex didn't flinch. Didn't blink. She just turned from the blast to Zero.
"Zero," she said. "You know what to do."
He floated in silence, blinking.
"What do I do?" he asked, voice soaked in innocence.
Vex sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"What do you think, Zero? Bring him back."
A pause. Then—
"Ohhh."