Null woke up to pain.
His body ached as he tried to move, muscles screaming in protest. At first, it came as a dull, distant throb. His limbs felt heavy and bruised, as if he had been beaten into the ground. But before the pain could fully take hold, another sensation surged forward, overpowering it.
Confusion.
Along with it came a tremendous urge to eat or drink anything at all.
Slowly, Null opened his eyes and scanned his surroundings.
He was in a small room.
Smooth walls boxed him in, the ceiling so low he was certain he could touch it if he stood. It felt like a room meant only for sleeping and recovery, not for living. A place people were brought to heal, then leave.
He lay on a narrow bed pressed against one wall, its thin mattress offering little comfort to his aching body.
There was no window. Only a small wooden door stood opposite where he lay.
Instead, multiple magic lanterns hovered near the ceiling. From Null's perspective, they resembled tiny stars scattered across a night sky. Despite their size, they were enough to fully light the room.
Null slowly tried to sit up. Pain coursed through his body as he endured the movement, until he finally rested his back against the wall. He turned his gaze toward the wall opposite him.
Growing directly from it was a single, unnaturally large flower.
Bright red. Vivid. Almost alive.
The sight made his skin crawl. Unease settled deep in his chest, and he quickly looked away, lifting his eyes to the ceiling instead.
He breathed slowly, carefully, trying to recall what had happened. As he did, an unshakable sensation lingered in the back of his mind.
The entire place felt like it was moving.
Not violently, but enough to notice.
He shook the feeling off and focused on his memories. He remembered escaping the place where he had been captured. Remembered running until his body gave out. Remembered collapsing from exhaustion.
Then it all started to come back.
☆☆☆ ● 24 hours ago
"So… you fancy freedom, huh?"
The voice came suddenly, calm yet menacing.
Null looked up from the ground to see a tall, lean young man standing over his limp body in a strange, almost lazy posture. His height gave him a looming presence, not imposing, but predatory.
Long, tangled dreads fell freely down his back, framing a face carved with sharp angles and dangerous calm. Three distinct scars ran across his left cheek. His left hand was encased in a strange, dark glove forged from an unknown material, its surface worn yet unbroken. Narrow openings lined the knuckles and fingers, as if something was meant to emerge from within.
He wore lightweight combat attire suited for any terrain, flexible enough for swift movement yet reinforced at vital points. His clothes bore the marks of long travel and countless battles, but not a single tear slowed him down.
Before Null could reply, a crushing weight slammed into his back.
Something had crashed into him, powerful enough to nearly shatter his bones, but not kill him.
Prime had caught up.
His expression was twisted with fury. Using his gravity magic, he prepared to launch another rock at Null's body, but froze mid-action.
His eyes locked onto the man standing over Null.
Prime's gaze narrowed slightly.
"And if I may ask," he said coldly, "what are you doing here?"
The stranger didn't even look at him at first. He crouched down instead, reaching out to touch Null's face.
"And who," he replied calmly, "decided I have to answer to you?"