Arc III.5: “Zero”
Chapter I: “Before the Fall”
Episode V: “Fate”
“Shall we?” Kukito extended his hand to help Mizuka stand up.
“Thank you,” she smiled, and the two of them slipped out of the restaurant—leaving Raida and Carrie’s bickering behind like background music.
The night air swallowed the city in quiet layers. Their footsteps kept time, but their conversation didn’t. They walked side by side with the kind of awkward silence that wasn’t unfriendly—just uncertain.
“Ah—” Mizuka hugged herself as a sharp wind cut between the buildings.
Kukito didn’t hesitate. He slid his outer garment over her shoulders, careful not to touch too long. “It gets cold at night. You need layers.”
Mizuka clutched the fabric, and her sleeve slipped back—the frayed red thread on her wrist catching moonlight for a heartbeat.
“T-thank you…” Mizuka’s cheeks warmed as she looked up at him.
Kukito’s gaze flicked to the thread—only a moment—then away, like his mind refused to follow the thought.
“You always wear that?” he asked, too casually.
Mizuka blinked. “Oh… this?” She tugged it once, gently. “I don’t know when I started. I just… never took it off.”
Kukito hummed softly, noncommittal, and they continued.
A few minutes later, the inn rose before them—tall, polished, and bright enough to look like it didn’t belong on the same planet as the Dystopian district.
“Oh—this is it,” Mizuka said, staring up.
“Okay. Have a good night, then,” Kukito replied—already turning like he’d practiced leaving.
“W-wait.” Mizuka caught his sleeve—then let go like she’d touched fire.
Kukito paused. “Yeah?”
“Would you… Come in for a minute?” Her voice tightened. “Just… a drink. Please.”
“Oh. No, I’m fine,” Kukito said, eyes dipping. The word fine sounded like a shield.
Mizuka swallowed. “When I was sent here… I thought I’d die in the sky.” She drew a small breath, steadying herself. “And tonight was the first night I… didn’t.”
Kukito didn’t answer.
Her eyes dropped. “Don’t leave me alone with that feeling yet.”
She reached down and clasped both hands around his—warm, earnest, trembling just a little.
Their eyes met.
“A-alright…” Kukito exhaled, like surrendering to something harmless. “I guess a drink couldn’t hurt.”
[Inside]
The inn’s lights were too warm—too clean. Mizuka looked out of place in them, like a storm given a chair.
Inside her room, she poured something mild and sweet. Kukito took it like medicine.
For a while, they didn’t talk about Kaelos. Or Utopia. Or orders.
Mizuka just listened—really listened—as Kukito’s voice cracked once when he mentioned his children. He caught himself immediately after, jaw tightening, as if emotion was another enemy to suppress.
Neither of them reached across the distance.
But somehow… the distance shrank anyway.
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The last thing Kukito remembered was Mizuka turning the lamp lower. The room softened. The world quieted.
And for the first time in weeks, his breathing stopped feeling like it was fighting him.
[Later into the night]
Raida and Carrie stumbled back to the inn, both leaning on each other for support.
“O-oh, we should check on Mizuka,” Carrie hiccupped as they lurched down the hall.
“Oh, that’s right,” Raida slurred, pointing in the general direction of every door.
Carrie pushed Mizuka’s door open a finger-width—then froze.
In the dim, Kukito and Mizuka lay asleep on opposite sides of the bed, fully clothed—like two people who’d fallen off different cliffs and landed in the same place.
Carrie’s eyes widened. She shut the door quietly, like it might explode if it clicked.
“What’s wrong?” Raida squinted. “Aren’t you gonna c-check on her?”
“She’s fine,” Carrie muttered, cheeks burning.
“W-what’d you see?” Raida leaned in, nosy even while half-dead.
“Nothing,” Carrie snapped. “Shut up.”
She braced a hand against the wall and steered him away before he could embarrass them both.
They stumbled into her room and collapsed onto the large, fluffy bed like they’d been defeated in battle.
“Damn…” Raida groaned. “I don’t think I can move. So… sleepy…”
Carrie sighed—heavy, annoyed, and a little too quiet to be only annoyed.
The two of them were out cold within seconds.
[The next day]
Raida and Kukito were assigned to long-distance patrol together.
“Oh, Kukito. Did you get home safely last night?”
“Uh… yeah.” Kukito kept his eyes forward.
His sleeve rode up when he gripped the console—a flash of red braid at his wrist. He pulled the fabric down immediately, like hiding a wound.
“Ah, that’s good,” Raida yawned. “I completely passed out when I got back to the inn with Carrie. Didn’t even make it home. My little brother’s gonna scold me later, ha-ha-ha.”
Kukito swallowed. It’s probably better if I don’t tell him anything.
The patrol ship slid through the quiet edge of Utopia’s atmosphere and into open dark—stars scattered like distant dust.
Then Kukito stiffened.
“Wait. Stop.”
Raida eased the ship to a halt and looked around. “Why, what’s wrong?”
“Look.” Kukito pointed through the glass. “There’s a person out there.”
Even from here, the figure didn’t look frozen. No crystallized breath. No burst vessels.
Just… still.
Like space had forgotten to kill him.
“Oh, you’re right!” Raida’s eyes widened. “Damn… they’re probably dead. Hold on—I’ll get an air mask.”
They suited up, exited the ship, and pulled the drifting body inside.
They sealed the hatch and pulled their masks off. The ship’s recycled air tasted stale—but breathable.
Kukito pressed his ear to the man’s chest.
“He’s alive!” Kukito barked.
“Really?” Raida stared. “That’s impossible…”
The man’s eyes snapped open.
In one smooth motion, he stood and grabbed Kukito by the throat, lifting him into the air with one hand as if Kukito weighed nothing.
“H-hey!” Raida surged with Flux, ready to strike. “Put him down!”
The stranger blinked at the ship, then at them, like he was sorting the world into categories.
“Ohhh…” he said slowly—then released Kukito, letting him drop back onto his feet. “You two tried to save me.”
Kukito coughed, glaring.
Raida’s skin crawled. Something’s wrong.
The man paced once, fingers brushing the console as if he’d never seen a ship before. He looked restless—lost—but not afraid.
Raida tried to sense him.
Nothing.
No Flow leak. No Flux ripple. No signature.
It was like trying to hear a note above the range of mortal ears.
“What were you doing, floating out there?” Raida demanded.
“Hmm?” The man tilted his head. “Who knows. I can’t remember.”
“E-eh?”
Raida’s jaw tightened. “How long were you out there?”
Chrollo tilted his head. “I don’t know.”
He stared through the viewport like the stars might hand him a number. “Time doesn’t behave out there. I stopped counting.”
Raida’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not an answer.”
Chrollo shrugged. “It’s the only one I’ve got.”
Kukito’s eyes narrowed. “How did you survive out there? And why do you look untouched? What kind of being are you?”
The stranger looked at their faces—then smiled like he’d solved a puzzle.
“Ah. Right.” He tapped his temple once, pleased with himself. “To you Mortals… I’m what’s known as a Primordial.”
The word hit Kukito’s gut.
Not a title. Not a rumor.
A tier.
The kind the Sages spoke about in footnotes—because speaking louder felt like inviting one.
His fingers flexed once at his side—pure instinct, like his body wanted to bow or run and couldn’t decide.
Raida’s stance sharpened. “Then what’s your name?”
“My name is…” The man paused, eyes unfocusing. “…is…”
Then his expression brightened like a child remembering a trick.
“Ah, right!” he said, proud. “My name is Chrollo.”
“S-so, Mr. Chrollo…” Kukito kept his voice controlled. “What exactly is a Primordial?”
Chrollo waved a hand. “You don’t even know Primordials? Then what about Angels and Gods?” He sighed. “Actually, never mind. Too much effort.”
He turned, studying them like tools.
“Instead, I’ll reward you.”
“Reward us?” Raida asked, skeptical.
“So,” Chrollo continued, lifting one hand. Grey-blue pressure settled around his fingers—calm, heavy, wrong in the way deep ocean pressure is wrong.
“You pulled me out of space. That saved me time.”
He looked between them. “I’ll repay it by adding time to your lives. I’ll lend you pieces of my Craft—show you how to move aether without begging your body for permission.”
“Add time to our lives…?” Kukito’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
Chrollo’s gaze drifted to their uniforms. “Those are Utopian robes.”
Raida stiffened. “Yeah. We’re Sages.”
“Then you’re soldiers,” Chrollo said, like it was obvious. “You look like men assigned to violence. Which means you’re in a war.”
Raida’s brow furrowed. “You mean the Galactic War?”
“If that’s what you call it,” Chrollo muttered. “Cosmic, Galactic… mortals rename disasters like it changes them. Might be my fault it started.” He scratched his cheek, saying it like someone admitting they spilled a drink. “Everyone else just made such a big deal out of it.”
He yawned.
Kukito swallowed. “That war ended forty years ago.”
Chrollo blinked.
Once.
“…Forty?”
“Yeah,” Raida said cautiously. “It’s been over.”
Chrollo exhaled, almost amused. “So, I’m late.”
His eyes sharpened anyway. “Doesn’t matter. Peace is just the pause between catastrophes.”
He nodded at their robes. “If you’re wearing those, you’ll be needed again. I’ll train you. Unless… you’d like a different reward?”
His eyes sharpened—and the ship’s lights flickered once, like the pressure in the room had weight.
They both went still.
“We should get back to work—” Kukito began.
“No,” Raida cut in immediately, dropping to a bow so fast it was almost a dive. “We’d be honored to train under you, Master Chrollo!”
He shoved Kukito down with him.
“H-hey—what are you doing!?” Kukito hissed through clenched teeth.
“This is a great opportunity,” Raida whispered back. “We can’t pass this up!”
“This guy is a weirdo. We can’t trust him.”
Raida leaned closer. “You felt it too. We can’t sense him at all. And he grabbed you like you were nothing—without even pushing Flux. That pressure coming off him…” Raida swallowed. “He’s out of our league. He can teach us things we can’t even imagine.”
Kukito’s jaw tightened.
Chrollo stretched his arms like he’d been bored this whole time.
“Alright,” he said. “Find an empty moon or something. I want space to move.” His eyes sharpened—cold, glimmering. “I want to test how good you two are.”
Raida and Kukito both gulped.
Kukito shot Raida a look that could’ve killed a weaker man.
What have you gotten us into?
[Next Time on Lyte of Utopia]: “Chrollo”
[Yield Levels]:
Raida: 20,000
Kukito: 15,000
Chrollo: ???
- Suppressed + Divine Pressure: 11z