Chương 2: Zero

The progress bar remained at 6% for half an hour. The four of them sat inside their circular gold boundary on the black reflective floor, surrounded by the blurred silhouettes of thousands of other contestants doing some version of the same thing. Some groups argued loudly enough for their voices to press against the veil between teams. Some seemed to have already started fighting.

One team several boundaries away had a member who was crying into their hands while another spoke in a soft voice and a third pointed angrily at the sky. He looked around their own boundary again. There were no doors, visible supplies, obvious exits, or equipment except the hovering team window. The gold line on the floor did not produce heat or force when touched, but objects did not pass through it. Viria had already tested that by throwing a small metal clasp from her sleeve at the edge.

Yukito sat near the edge of the boundary, positioned where his own shadow pooled darkest beneath him. He had one knee drawn up and one arm resting across it. His posture suggested relaxation, but his eyes kept moving. Miho sat with her spine straight and her sword across her lap. The blade was sheathed now, but her hand remained close enough to draw without wasted motion. Her tail lay behind her in a controlled curve, but the tip flicked every few seconds.

Viria sat cross-legged across from her, chin in one hand, elbow on knee, expression halfway between irritation and reluctant interest. 085 sat where he had first lowered himself to the floor. He had copied the general seated posture of the others but had not fully understood why certain variations seemed to imply ease and others vigilance. His legs were folded, hands rested on knees, back remained straight. Viria had glanced at him. She looked uncomfortable, but 085 could not understand why.

Finally, she said, "Do you ever stop looking like you're waiting for someone to tell you what to do?" 085 considered the question.

"Yes." She seemed surprised.

"When?"

"When I am already performing an instruction." Viria stared at him for a long moment, then dropped her hand from her chin.

"That's… kinda sad." 085 tilted his head.

"Why?"

"Because that was not a joke."

"Correct." Viria inhaled through her nose and looked up at the progress bar.

"Fine. Since the divine nightmare wants us to understand each other and apparently we are starting with the most emotionally damaged person in the circle—""Bold assumption," Yukito muttered under his breath. 085 paused.

"I do not know if that is accurate." Viria turned back to him.

"That you're emotionally damaged?"

"That I am the most." Viria's expression shifted again, and 085 was beginning to understand that she shifted expressions the way some people shifted stance: quickly, defensively, and often before attack. Sarcasm first. Irritation second. Something softer beneath both, hidden when possible.

"Right," she said, quieter.

"Good point." The progress bar moved to 7%. Viria looked offended.

"That is what moved it? Not my excellent attempts at structured conversation?" Yukito said, "Maybe it rewards actual quality." Viria pointed at him.

"You are getting dangerously comfortable making comments." He looked down at the reflective floor.

"I can stop, if you want." Viria's irritation faltered, not expecting his response. 085 watched Yukito's shoulders draw in by a small degree. A reflexive reduction in visible presence. He had seen animals do similar things when attempting to seem smaller to avoid further attention. He had seen himself do it in recordings from early tests. Viria noticed too.

"I didn't mean it like that," she said sheepishly. Yukito glanced up again. Viria rolled her eyes, but the motion lacked force.

"I meant it as a complaint, not an order. Keep making comments. They're occasionally useful." Yukito looked at her for half a second. Then he nodded once, the shadow beneath him loosening. The bar increased to 8% Viria threw both hands upward.

"Oh, come on. I validate the lurking shadow assassin one time and the wall applauds?" Yukito's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Assassin?" Viria froze, her expression dropping again. 085 watched the change in atmosphere; Viria had made an assumption, Yukito had reacted negatively, but not explosively. The word had significance. Possibly correct, but unwelcome. Possibly incorrect, but connected to prior classification. Viria lowered her hands slowly.

"That was a guess."

"A common one?" Viria's face shifted through three possible responses before settling on honesty.

"Probably. You are sitting in the darkest part of a magical god-prison wearing enough black to declare war on color." Yukito stared at her. Then, unexpectedly, one corner of his mouth twitched upward.

"Fair, I guess." TEAM UNDERSTANDING: 9% Before Viria could insult the wall again, Miho spoke.

"Are you?" Yukito looked at her.

"An assassin," Miho clarified.

"No." He replied firmly. Miho held his gaze for a moment.

"Then she should not call you one." Yukito seemed to stop breathing for the smallest fraction of time.

"Thanks." Miho looked away as if indifferent to the acknowledgement, but her tail betrayed her true thoughts. The progress bar updated again. TEAM UNDERSTANDING: 10% Viria leaned backward on her hands and studied Miho.

"Ohh, so that's how it works with you." Miho's eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"You don't care if something is nice. You care if it's correct." Miho's tail tip twitched.

"There is value in being correct." Viria smiled coyly.

"That was not a denial."

"I never intended to deny that." Miho said flatly. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. 085 looked at Miho.

"You dislike incorrect classification." Her eyes shifted to him. For a moment, the air sharpened.

"Yes," she said.

"Because others have used classification to justify harm?" Miho's expression did not change at those words, but the tip of her tail stopped moving completely. 085 identified the result as dangerous too late. Miho's hand closed around the hilt of her sword. Viria said, "Maybe don't—""No," Miho interrupted. The word cut cleanly through the space between them. 085 did not move. Miho's eyes had gone gold again, enough to catch the light from the progress window and hold it.

"Do not speak as if you understand what was done to me." 085 replayed his statement. It had been an extrapolation from limited data. It may have been accurate, but accuracy was not always permitted. Researchers had not cared if statements hurt him. He had not learned that statements could be correct and still harmful in application.

"I overextended the inference," he said finally. Miho's grip loosened by a fraction. Thankfully, it seemed she was still open to listening to reason. 085 continued.

"You confirmed your dislike of incorrect classification. I connected it to harm without sufficient permission or evidence. That was not acceptable. From now on, I will not speak as if I understand what was done to you unless you provide details or grant permission to infer."

"You apologize strangely," Miho said as her sword re-entered its sheath. The progress bar moved. TEAM UNDERSTANDING: 12% Viria stared at it, then at Miho.

"That got two percent?" Miho's voice was cold.

"Would you prefer I draw my sword next time?"

"No. I prefer the wall explain its scoring criteria." From nowhere, Enigma's voice said, " No, you don't."

"Are you spying on us?" Viria demanded. The mouth's smile widened." Broadcasting." Then it vanished. Silence lingered for a few minutes.

"People change when they know they're being watched," he said. 085 thought of researchers entering the room when official observers stood behind glass. When that happened, they used cleaner language, fewer informal labels, and had straighter postures, but still used the same instruments for the same procedures. Yukito looked toward the veiled contestants beyond the boundary.

"Where I'm from, powers are public. They are ranked, recorded, cut into clips, and put on feeds. People decide what you are from ten seconds of footage." Yukito spoke as if each sentence cost something and he had decided to spend only what was necessary.

"My power looks bad on camera." Viria waited. For once, she did not fill the silence. 085 said, "Does bad mean visually threatening?" Yukito's gaze returned to him.

"Yes."

"Does the visual assessment conflict with your behavior?" A small, bitter smile appeared.

"Often." 085 considered the information.

"Then the classification is wrong." Yukito laughed.

"That's… more comforting than you probably realize." Viria leaned forward.

"That's what happened before you came here? You did something good and they decided it looked wrong?" Yukito's eyes flicked to her. Viria held up both hands.

"Question, not accusation." He was quiet for several seconds. Then he said, "Someone was going to kill people. I stopped him." Miho's voice was level.

"How?" Yukito's fingers curled. The shadow beneath his hand rose like smoke.

"I dragged him into the dark and broke both his arms. The people he was going to kill were fine. The cameras just caught the part where he screamed." Yukito continued, eyes fixed on the floor.

"It doesn't matter what you do if the image fits what people already think." 085 thought about that. He had been called asset because that was the image the researchers wanted. He had been called subject because that was the image the records required. He had been called it because that was the image easiest to use.

TEAM UNDERSTANDING: 14% Viria once again broke the silence, "You know, for what it's worth, if we are being thrown into some death-world full of rules we do not know, having someone who can move through shadows, read danger, and break a threat before it becomes a bigger threat sounds excellent. And I happen to like excellent things near me when I am near danger." Yukito studied her.

"That sounded rehearsed."

"It was improvised, and therefore more impressive."

"It was… better," he said. Viria brightened immediately.

"Thank you." The bar did not move, but 085 understood something: Viria liked praise tied to competence. Her expression changed most strongly when approval recognized something she had chosen or done well. He thought about what he knew about the others. Yukito liked when others listened to him before forming their opinions, and Miho—"You prefer when others do not pity you." Miho's attention snapped to 085. Viria sucked in a breath.

"We literally just had a conversation about inferring too far."

"I am not inferring from her history," 085 said.

"I am inferring from her reaction to statements. She accepted correction when framed as accuracy, but she rejected assumed understanding. She did not react negatively when Yukito described violence as necessary, but she did react negatively when I implied knowledge of harm. Pity may be unwelcome because it assumes superiority, fragility, or knowledge without permission." Miho stared at him.

"If I am wrong," he said, "correct me." Miho drew in a breath.

"No, you're right." The entire room sighed at that. 085 said, "Then I will not pity you." The bar increased: TEAM UNDERSTANDING: 16% After that, the bar did not move for another hour. Most of it was spent in silence. After a time, Viria spoke.

"Wait, aren't there… people watching us? I feel like we need to do something."" Finally!

"said an all-too-familiar voice above them," I was waiting for someone to say that." Viria rolled her eyes.

"Can you at least try to be helpful?"" I can do you one better," Enigma said, " I can actually be helpful!" Just then, a new system window appeared. TEAM UNDERSTANDING REQUIREMENT Suggested Focus: Identity Current Concern: Member 085 lacks an accepted personal designation. All three of them looked at 085. 085 looked at the window. Viria's expression changed immediately.

"Oh," she said.

"Yeah, I'm not calling you by a serial number."

"It is my designation."

"No. It was your designation." 085 replayed the distinction. Was meant past tense, meaning Viria thought of the designation 085 as no longer applicable.

"I have no alternative designation." Viria rolled her eyes.

"Then pick one!" She looked at him, increasingly indignant on his behalf.

"That is usually how names work. People have them. You get to have one."

"The system lists my name as 'Unassigned'."

"That's not a name, just a placeholder. You need to pick your name."

"She's right," Yukito said. Miho's gaze turned to 085 "A designation given by captors does not need to be preserved. You should pick something different." 085 paused to consider their opinions. 085 was efficient; it was short, identified him in records, allowed researchers to call him without implying personhood, sorted him among the failed subjects, retired subjects, nonviable subjects, promising subjects, and terminated subjects.

085 belonged to file labels, containment doors, sample tubes, session logs, and commands issued through speakers. The designation had only followed him out of the laboratory because the system had copied the only thing that existed. But the system had also said Unassigned. A placeholder waiting to be filled.

"I… do not know how to pick," he said. Viria's expression softened before she caught it and converted it into annoyance.

"Of course you don't. Fine. We can workshop." Yukito looked at 085 "Do you want suggestions?" 085 processed the wording: Do you want suggestions? The answer mattered because the question was not what would be best, satisfy the system, or accelerate deployment. Yukito had just asked if 085 wanted suggestions.

"I think so," 085 said. Viria nodded decisively.

"Good. First rule: nothing lab-like. No numbers." 085 considered.

"Numbers are familiar, though."

"Fine. But you need to choose something different from 085." Yukito paused.

"What about… just, Zero?"

"Zero," Viria said, rolling the name over her tongue, "That's fine with me, I guess."

"Zero means nothing," Miho said, "which means nobody has filled it in for you yet. And beginning from nothing is not always weakness."

"I like Zero." he said. And then added, "Thank you." The system responded to his approval: IDENTITY UPDATE RECOGNIZED Name: Zero Former Designation: 085 A pressure moved through Zero's chest again, the nameless thing that was not a shift, pain, reward, or hunger. It rose, pressed outward, and then settled into something almost stable. Viria watched him with open satisfaction. Yukito looked at the floor, but his posture had eased. Miho's expression remained controlled, though her ears were no longer pinned back.

Then the progress bar jumped. TEAM UNDERSTANDING: 24% Zero looked at the progress bar.

"Names affect measurement," he said. Viria turned back to him, smile still bright.

"Names affect people, lab boy." Zero looked at her. The phrase contained the 'lab', but not as possession. It sounded like an insult, but her tone did not match researcher dismissal. Teasing, then.

"I am not a boy from a lab," he said after a moment. Viria's smile faltered. Zero searched for the correction.

"I am a person who was in a lab." The progress bar increased to 25%. Viria's smile returned, "All right, That's the first member of Team Zero sorted!" Unexpectedly, the system responded: TEAM NAME UPDATED Unofficial Designation Recognized: Team Zero Audience Adoption Probability: High Official designations will be given upon completing the first leg"Wait! I was joking! Why do they like it that much!!" Viria panicked. Miho quickly turned away to hide a smirk.

"I mean, it could be worse." Yukito said, "It's not a bad name. I say we embrace it." Viria sighed in feigned resignation, but underneath, Zero could see she was smiling. Next to them, the progress bar approached 28%.