Zero didn’t speak for a long moment. The engines hummed. The jungle vanished beneath them. Inside the cockpit, it was just the two of them — a gruff, emotionally armoured Nekoran and a kid who shouldn’t exist on any registry.

  Half a million credits. Enough to upgrade both scythes, get her ship fixed, maybe buy a place on Hytrol she’d never actually visit.

  A clean job. Simple hand-off. Walk away.

  So why did her stomach feel wrong?

  Zero’s ears flattened slightly — a sign no one ever got to see because she kept her jingasa on. She stared ahead, but her voice was quieter than before.

  “I should take you straight to Crash,” she muttered.

  The girl nodded, small and obedient. “Okay.”

  Zero’s eye twitched. “Stop agreeing with everything I say. It’s weird.”

  “S—sorry.”

  Zero grumbled, but her fingers had already loosened on the controls. There was an itch under her ribs. A pull. Not instinct — something deeper. Something she didn’t like acknowledging.

  “Look,” she said, voice rough. “If the UGA thinks you’re a Null Beast, they’ll dissect you. Or cage you. Or worse. And normally? Not my business.”

  The girl watched her silently, like waiting for a verdict.

  Zero cursed under her breath. Fine. Fine.

  She yanked the ship’s controls hard left.

  The engines shifted pitch as the dropship whipped into a new trajectory, the autopilot protesting with flashing red warnings.

  “W-where are we going?” the girl asked, gripping her seat.

  Zero kept her eyes forward. “Astra Major.”

  “But… why?”

  Zero didn’t answer immediately. Her pulse felt annoyingly loud in her ears.

  “…There’s someone there,” she finally said. “Murph.”

  “Who’s Murph?”

  “My old hunting partner,” Zero said. “A Nekoran just like me but talks too much and fights like a lunatic. Smells like ozone and canned fish.”

  The girl tilted her head. “Do you… trust him?”

  Zero gritted her teeth. “I don’t trust anyone.”

  Another pause.

  “But if anyone knows what you are,” she added begrudgingly, “it’s him.”

  The girl’s expression softened — a quiet, fragile hope.

  Zero immediately scowled at it. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I’m doing something heroic. I’m not.”

  “You’re helping me.”

  “I’m procrastinating turning you in,” Zero snapped. “Totally different.”

  But even as she said it, her course remained locked toward Astra Major — a cold blue orb beginning to rise on the horizon, its city-lights flickering like constellations across its surface.

  Zero leaned back, swallowing down the uneasy feeling crawling up her spine.

  Half a million credits. Her reputation. Her usual instincts.

  She was ignoring all of them.

  The girl’s voice came again, small, almost shy.

  “What was your name?”

  “… it’s Zero.”

  “…Zero?”

  “What.”

  “Thank you.”

  Zero hissed softly through her teeth, ears twitching.

  “Stop that.”

  “Stop thanking you?”

  “Yes.”

  “…Okay. Sorry.”

  “And stop apologizing.”

  “Okay— I mean… yes.” She paused. “Sorry. I’ll stop.”

  Zero buried her face briefly in one hand. “I hate this.”

  But she didn’t change course.

  Astra Major filled the viewport — oceans like liquid cobalt, continents wrapped in silver cloud belts, cities glowing like circuitry on a world-sized motherboard. Civilization. Traffic lanes. Patrol ships.

  Zero drifted along the outer atmosphere, making herself as insignificant as possible.

  Murph wasn’t in any city registry. Wasn’t on Crash Town logs. Didn’t answer comms. Didn’t leave traces unless he wanted to.

  Which meant one thing:

  “He’s off-grid,” Zero muttered.

  The girl blinked. “What does that mean?”

  “It means he’s being a pain,” Zero said, flicking through scanner modes. “Again.”

  Astra Major’s automated voice chirped through the cockpit:

  UNREGISTERED VESSEL. PLEASE IDENTIFY OR HOLD POSITION.

  Zero muted it with a single irritated tap.

  “Back to ignoring authority,” she grumbled. “Just like old times.”

  She guided the ship down through the atmosphere, skimming the clouds until the planet’s surface sharpened into view — emerald forests, steep cliffs, rivers cutting through like silver veins.

  The city of Veridia rose on the horizon, its green-and-white towers shaped like giant roots twisting toward the sky. Beyond it stretched the Hunting Grounds — thousands of hectares of semi-wild territory regulated by the UGA, teeming with controlled fauna for sport hunters and freelancers.

  Murph hated cities. Hated people. Hated rules. So the grounds were the only logical place he’d vanish to.

  Zero aligned the ship toward the forest perimeter.

  The girl leaned toward the window. “It’s pretty.”

  “It’s loud,” Zero corrected.

  And it was — she could hear the reverberations of distant fauna, even through the hull.

  “Murph won’t be anywhere near the licensed zones,” Zero said. “He’d stick to the borderlands where the UGA drones don’t bother sweeping.”

  “Why does he hide?”

  Zero scoffed. “Because he’s Murph. He thinks going off-grid makes him unpredictable.” A beat. “…It does.”

  The girl smiled faintly, as if the idea of another Nekoran was comforting.

  Zero noticed and instantly disliked noticing.

  “Don’t get your hopes up,” she warned. “Murph’s a pain in the ass. If he’s even alive.”

  “But you said he could help.”

  “I said he might know something. Or might make it worse. Or might lecture me for six hours about taking a job alone.” Her ears twitched. “Ugh. I hate that part.”

  The ship cut lower, the engines echoing through the forest canopy. Tall trees shifted under the wind pressure as she brought them down toward a clearing that wasn’t on the maps.

  Zero set the ship down softly — instinct, muscle memory, old training from times she would never admit she missed.

  She stood and grabbed her scythes.

  “You’re staying put,” she told the girl.

  The girl’s ears drooped. “But—”

  “Don’t argue.” Zero pointed at her. “Stay. Here. If something bangs on the hull? Still stay here. If I scream? Stay here. If you see a furry blue idiot? Definitely stay here.”

  “…Murph is blue?”

  “Black and blue,” Zero said. “And smug. Don’t let the smugness fool you.”

  The girl nodded solemnly, as if this was sacred wisdom.

  Zero slid open the hatch.

  A surge of cool forest air washed in, carrying scents of wet leaves, damp soil, and distant beast musk.

  The Veridia Gathering Hub sat just beyond the treeline: a cluster of worn wooden structures, half tavern, half armory, half guild hall. Zero remembered it always being half-empty.

  Tonight, however, it was alive.

  Hunters sharpened blades. Others patched gear. Some swapped stories over drinks. Lanterns flickered in the dusk light.

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  And right at the hub’s entrance stood two figures she never thought she’d see together.

  Sirif and Felicia.

  Sirif leaned against a post, gray fur shimmering eerily beneath layers of gothic hunter attire — black leather straps, tattered coat tails, pale bone clasps. An undead Nekoran with eyes like dim embers.

  Felicia stood beside her — black fur sleek under the crimson-and-black Gyramatsu armor, feathers shifting softly in the breeze, red accents gleaming like fresh blood. Her crimson eyes brightened the moment she spotted Zero.

  Zero froze mid-step.

  “…What,” she muttered. “No. No way.”

  Felicia’s tail swished excitedly. “Zero!” she called out. “Long time no see!”

  Sirif tilted her head, voice soft as a cathedral whisper. “Fluffstrike. Didn’t expect you here.”

  Zero looked between them. “Did I walk into some cosmic joke? You two… together?”

  Felicia laughed. “Yeah.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “We know it’s weird. Don’t ask how it happened.”

  Sirif added calmly, “Necessity makes partnerships. Especially when there’s something moving through the Grounds we can’t identify.”

  Felicia crossed her arms. “We were about to scout the borderlands. Thought we’d find Murph first.”

  Zero blinked. “Murph’s here?”

  “He’s always here,” Sirif murmured. “He doesn’t leave Veridia anymore.”

  Felicia smirked gently. “Not since you stopped hunting with him, Zero.”

  Zero’s ears twitched irritably. “Don’t start.”

  Felicia held up both hands. “Hey, I’m not judging. But if you’re here looking for him—”

  “I’m not,” Zero snapped.

  Sirif stared at her. Barely blinking.

  Uncomfortably perceptive.

  Zero sighed. “…Okay, I am.”

  Felicia stepped close enough to lower her voice. “Something wrong?”

  Zero hesitated — which was enough of an answer.

  Sirif’s ears flicked. “We’ll show you. He’s most likely in the same place as always.”

  Felicia brightened. “The cliff shrine.”

  Zero raised a brow. “He’s still brooding there?”

  Sirif’s faint smile was more eerie than kind. “Undead remember routine. Living hunters cling to it.”

  Zero rolled her eye. “Lead the way.”

  Felicia nodded and motioned for Zero to follow. Sirif fell into step silently beside them — elegant, ghostlike.

  As they walked the narrow forest path toward the cliffs, Felicia glanced over her shoulder with a teasing grin.

  “Zero?”

  “What.”

  “You brought your scythes. That means trouble.”

  Zero’s tail flicked once. “Trouble’s exactly why I need Murph.”

  Sirif’s voice drifted like cold fog.

  “Then let us pray he’s in the mood to help.”

  They emerged from the trees to the rocky overlook — the cliff shrine.

  Ruined stone pillars. Hanging charms clattering in the wind.

  A perfect vantage point of Veridia’s twilit expanse.

  And there, sitting cross-legged on a column like some smug monk—

  —was Murph.

  Black and blue fur. Tail flicking lazily. One eye half-closed. The other watching them approach with a knowing gleam.

  Zero breathed in sharply, steeling herself.

  Zero’s boots crunched against the stone pillars as she led Felicia and Sirif closer to the edge of the cliff. The wind whipped her fur, tugging at loose straps and coat tails. Murph sat atop the highest pillar, tail lazily draped over the stone, his cobalt eye glinting in the dusk.

  “Murph,” Zero called, keeping her tone flat. “We need to talk.”

  He didn’t move. Just tilted his head. “Zero Fluffstrike. To what do I owe this… rare delight?” His voice carried amusement, but there was an edge to it — curiosity, suspicion.

  Zero narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t come for a chat. I came for you to do your damn job.”

  Murph let out a soft, humorless laugh. “You’ve been hunting alone again, haven’t you?”

  Zero snorted. “Better than wasting time complaining.”

  Felicia and Sirif fell back slightly, letting Zero take the lead. Murph’s gaze flicked to them once, then back to Zero.

  “You look… tense. What’s got your tail in a twist?” Murph asked.

  Zero exhaled through her nose, annoyed at his casual tone. “…Fine. I’ll tell you. There’s a girl.”

  Murph tilted his head slowly. “A girl?”

  “Yes. A Null Beast,” Zero said, voice rough, scythes still strapped to her back. “…At least, that’s what the UGA says. Human appearance. Weak. Couldn’t fight her way out of a wet paper bag if I hadn’t dragged her through a jungle infested with… well, you know.”

  Murph’s eyebrow rose. “You’re telling me you brought a human-class Null Beast all the way here. And you think I’m going to believe that?”

  Zero’s ears flattened slightly. “You don’t have to believe me. You just… tell me what you know.”

  Felicia stepped closer, arms folded. “She’s… human-looking?”

  “Yes. Small. Fragile. Nothing like a Null Beast I’ve ever faced.”

  Sirif’s voice was quiet, distant. “And you think the classification is wrong?”

  Zero’s tail flicked impatiently. “…I don’t know what she is. But she’s… different. There’s something about her. Something the UGA doesn’t understand. I can feel it.”

  Murph pushed himself off the pillar, landing gracefully on the next one down. His eyes narrowed as he studied Zero, the tension in her posture, the unusual weight in her voice. “Alright. So you came here instead of handing her over.”

  “Yeah,” Zero said shortly. “I didn’t want to hand her over. Not yet. Not until I know what she is.”

  Murph’s gaze hardened. “You’re meddling with something dangerous. If the UGA finds out—”

  Zero cut him off, snapping, “I don’t care! I’m not letting them dissect her, Murph. Not some human-looking kid labeled a Null Beast.”

  Murph’s tail flicked, betraying both irritation and intrigue. “…You brought her here? On this ship?”

  “Yes. And she’s still on board.” Zero’s voice dropped slightly. “…She doesn’t know why she’s a Null Beast. Doesn’t understand it. Could be anything underneath that classification — we don’t know.”

  Murph’s eyes glimmered. “…Could be anything, huh?” He tilted his head, thinking. “You’re telling me there’s a child, weak in human form, classified as Null Beast… and you’re standing there asking me for advice?”

  Zero’s claws flexed on her scythes. “…Not advice. Just… insight. You know this kind of thing. You’ve seen enough weird shit to know what’s plausible and what’s propaganda.”

  Murph exhaled slowly, tail curling around his legs. “…Bring her down. Let me see her.”

  Zero’s ears twitched. “…You better not scare her.”

  Murph smirked faintly, low and knowing. “I’m not here to scare anyone. But I am here to understand.”

  Zero nodded once, sharply. “…Fine. Let’s go.”

  She led Felicia and Sirif back to the ship, hands on her scythes, scanning the treeline as if expecting a fight at any second.

  Zero guided the girl to the center of the cockpit, keeping one hand loosely on her scythe. Murph followed, ears twitching, tail flicking as he scanned every inch of the girl without touching her yet.

  “Sit,” Zero instructed the girl, pointing to the co-pilot seat. “Stay there. Don’t breathe too loud.”

  The girl nodded, hands clasped tightly in her lap, eyes wide under the cockpit lights.

  Murph crouched a few feet away, tilting his head. “You said she’s classified as a Null Beast?”

  “Yes,” Zero said flatly, folding her arms. “But she’s human. Weak. Fragile. Doesn’t seem like any kind of Null Beast I’ve ever fought.”

  Murph’s glowing cobalt eyes narrowed. “…Then why the classification?”

  Zero shrugged, trying to hide the unease creeping up her spine. “…Special. That’s all anyone ever said. Forest listens to her. Tribes watch her. People in the sky… want her. That’s it.”

  Murph exhaled slowly, examining the girl’s posture, the way she breathed, the faint pulse of light under her skin — subtle, almost imperceptible. “Huh…”

  Zero’s tail flicked, impatient. “…Well? You gonna stare, or figure something out?”

  Murph’s gaze lifted to Zero, a wry grin tugging at his lips. “You know me, I’m methodical. Can’t jump straight to conclusions.”

  Zero growled low in her throat. “…Methodical my ass. Don’t get any ideas.”

  Murph ignored her. He circled the girl slowly, watching her reactions. The child flinched slightly every time he passed behind her line of sight, but didn’t make a sound.

  “Hands,” Murph said softly, stopping in front of her. “Let me see your hands.”

  The girl hesitated. “I—okay.” She extended them slowly.

  Murph examined her palms, the faint glow between her veins. “…Hmm.”

  Zero stepped closer, scythe resting against her shoulder. “She’s not here for you to experiment on, Murph. Just… be careful.”

  “I am careful,” Murph said, crouching lower. “…But there’s a lot I don’t see. Null Beasts are usually aggressive, dominant… unyielding. This girl isn’t any of that.”

  Zero snorted. “…Yeah. I know.”

  Murph’s cobalt eyes flicked up to her. “…That’s exactly why I want to check the rest. If she’s hiding something, we’ll see it in her baseline. Strength, reaction, energy signature…”

  Zero crossed her arms, tail flicking in irritation. “Baseline all you want. Just don’t hurt her.”

  Murph gave a small smirk. “You worry too much. I’ve handled Null Beasts before. They don’t usually come in… this package.”

  He raised one hand slowly, palm open, hovering a few inches above the girl’s head. The faint glow in her veins pulsed stronger — responding to his proximity.

  Zero’s ears flattened. “…I said don’t touch her.”

  Murph’s grin faded, eyes sharp now. “…I’m not touching. Just reading. Energy, flow… she’s responding. But not like any Null Beast I’ve scanned.”

  The girl looked up at Zero, voice tiny. “Am I… bad?”

  Zero’s tail twitched. “…No. You’re fine. You’re just… weird. And special. And annoying the hell out of me.”

  The girl blinked, relieved.

  Murph muttered to himself, pacing slowly in the tight cockpit. “…Interesting. Her energy signature is… mutable. Almost… layered. Like she has a secondary form that isn’t active right now. But it’s there. Dormant.”

  Murph didn’t look at her. “…Yes. Could be physical. Could be something else entirely. But I’ve never seen it manifest like this. If anyone saw it outside this ship…” He shook his head. “…Dangerous. Classified. Dangerous.”

  Zero’s tail flicked in agreement. “…Exactly. That’s why she stays here. Understood?”

  The girl’s fingers clenched lightly in her lap, and Zero crouched beside her. “…Don’t worry. You’re safe here. For now.”

  Felicia and Sirif remained at the edges, silent, watching both Nekorans and the child, tails swishing lightly, eyes glinting. Neither needed to speak — everyone in the cramped cockpit knew this was the calm before a storm.

  Murph finally straightened, pacing a small circle. “…Whatever this girl is… she’s not just human. And she’s not just a Null Beast. If she awakens, things could get… messy. Very messy.”

  Zero glanced down at the girl, ears flicking. “…Then we make sure she doesn’t awaken in the wrong place. Got it?”

  The girl nodded.

  Zero let out a sharp breath, looking to Murph. “…So? How do we figure out what she is without getting eaten by the UGA?”

  Murph smirked faintly. “…That’s why you brought me. But we’ll need time. And isolation. Which you apparently understand.”

  Zero grunted. “…Yeah. Isolation. That’s my specialty.”

  Murph circled the girl slowly, his cobalt eye scanning every inch of her from a few feet away. He had a handful of standard protocols for identifying Null Beasts: energy resonance tests, reflex stimulation, and behavioral triggers.

  Zero stood close, scythes crossed on her back, tail flicking in irritation. Felicia and Sirif lingered at the edges, silent but alert, watching both Nekorans and the girl.

  “Hands still,” Murph said, voice calm, almost coaxing. “Eyes forward. Nothing sudden.”

  The girl nodded quietly, toes barely brushing the floor of the cockpit.

  Murph extended one hand, hovering above the girl’s shoulder. Energy sensors projected faint blue lines across the cockpit, flickering as they tried to map her internal aura. The girl flinched slightly, but no significant readings emerged.

  “Huh,” Murph muttered. “Nothing. No combat energy. No defensive spikes. Nothing unusual for a Null Beast.”

  Zero gritted her teeth. “…That’s what I’ve been saying.”

  Murph crouched lower, flicking his wrist to trigger a small pulse that would normally provoke a reaction from dormant energy signatures. The girl’s faint aura shimmered slightly — imperceptible to anyone not actively monitoring — but didn’t respond the way it would if she were a standard Null Beast.

  “Still nothing,” Murph said. “…Interesting. Highly interesting. I mean, very interesting.”

  Zero’s ears flattened. “Can you stop saying that and actually do something useful?”

  Murph ignored her. He tried a few more methods: reflex tests with minor vibrations under the seat, subtle sound pulses meant to trigger instinctive responses, and carefully projected holographic stimuli that mimicked territorial threats.

  The girl blinked at all of them. She flinched at some. Smiled at a few. Yawned at most.

  “Not impressed,” Zero muttered, crossing her arms. “Nothing works. She’s useless.”

  Murph shook his head, lips pursed. “…Not useless. The usual Null Beast triggers are failing. This… child… isn’t like anything cataloged. Her form is… human. Her energy is minimal. Her reactions aren’t aggressive. Defensive responses… negligible.”

  Zero’s tail flicked irritably. “…Yeah, I said that already. She’s a kid.”

  Murph didn’t answer. He crouched and studied her closer. “…She’s concealing something. Her secondary form, whatever that is, isn’t active. I can’t get a spike out of her because… it’s dormant. But it’s there. I can feel it underneath, just not manifesting.”

  Zero’s ears twitched sharply. “…Great. So nothing we can do right now. Just… wait. Fantastic.”

  Felicia’s voice was quiet but sharp. “…Could it be dangerous if it suddenly activates?”

  Murph’s gaze flicked toward her. “…Potentially. Very dangerous. If she awakens fully before understanding herself, the UGA or the wrong hunters could easily exploit or destroy her.”

  The girl shifted slightly in her seat, glancing up at Zero. “…I’m not dangerous, right?”

  Zero crouched, ears twitching. “…Not now. Not here. But we’re making sure no one forces you to be. Got it?”

  The girl nodded, still small and human, aura flickering faintly but barely perceptible.

  Murph stood, pacing slightly in the cramped cockpit. “…Whatever she becomes, it’s not predictable with conventional methods. I can monitor, theorize… but I can’t trigger it artificially. Too many variables. Her growth rate… her age… her energy… it’s all outside standard parameters.”

  Zero growled softly under her breath. “…Figures. Nothing ever works the way it should.”

  Felicia’s gaze softened, tail flicking against the floor. “…So we just… wait, then?”

  Murph nodded slowly. “…Wait. Observe. Protect. This child—whatever she is—has potential far beyond what we can measure right now. And right now, that’s the only safe way to deal with it.”

  Zero stood, brushing herself off. “…Fine. Safe. For now. Let’s just hope ‘for now’ lasts long enough.”

  The girl leaned back, small hands clutching her knees, calm in the cockpit despite the tension around her.

  Zero glanced at her, ears flattening slightly in an uncharacteristic flicker of concern. “…You’re staying in here. No wandering. No surprises. You hear me?”

  The girl nodded. “…Okay.”

  Zero’s tail flicked once, irritated but protective. “…Good. That’s what I thought.”

  Murph exhaled, more to himself than anyone else. “…Whatever form you have hidden, kid… one day, the world will see it. And we’ll need to be ready.”

  Zero glared at him, scythe at the ready. “…Let’s just survive until then. That’s priority one.”

  Felicia and Sirif exchanged a glance, tails swishing lightly. The cockpit was quiet now, but the tension hummed in the air — everyone knew this calm wouldn’t last, and the child in the center of it all carried a secret no one could yet unlock.