Victor had no reason to remember that day.
It wasn't special.
It wasn't important.
It should have been forgotten like any other ordinary moment.
He was standing inside a fashion shop, hands buried in his pockets, staring at a jacket that cost more than he earned in a month. Bright lights reflected off polished mirrors, music hummed quietly in the background, and people walked past him without a second glance.
A normal day.
Victor exhaled softly and turned away from the mirror.
That was when the world blinked.
For less than a second, the lights dimmed. The reflection in the mirror lagged behind his movement, stretching unnaturally, like reality had failed to keep up with itself.
Victor frowned.
"Did the power just—"
The sentence never finished.
There was no impact.
No pain.
No warning.
Victor simply ceased to exist.
No one screamed. No one noticed. The space where he stood was instantly filled by another customer, stepping forward as if Victor had never been there at all.
The world moved on.
Elsewhere, far away from quiet mirrors and expensive jackets, Void was laughing loudly, his face flushed from alcohol as he leaned back in his chair.
"You're already wasted," one of his friends said, shaking his head.
Void lifted his glass with a grin. "Relax. I can still walk in a straight line."
He tilted the glass—
And froze.
The liquid inside rippled without moving. The chatter around him dulled, stretching into something distant and wrong. Void's smile faded.
"…You guys feel that?"
No one answered.
The air collapsed inward.
Void felt weightless for a fraction of a second before darkness swallowed him completely.
The glass slipped from his fingers, but it never reached the floor.
Void vanished.
Pain came first.
Sharp, overwhelming, and inescapable.
Void tried to scream, but his body refused to obey him. His lungs burned as if he were breathing fire, and a strange pressure wrapped around his entire being.
Then sound rushed back in.
Crying.
Loud. Desperate. Raw.
It took several long seconds for Void to realize the sound was coming from him.
Why… am I crying?
His thoughts were slow, hazy, like they were trapped underwater. He tried to open his eyes, but the light stabbed into him mercilessly.
Shapes hovered above him—massive, towering silhouettes.
And then he heard another cry.
Different. Familiar.
His heart skipped.
Victor…?
The realization struck him all at once.
They weren't standing.
They weren't adults.
They weren't even capable of moving.
They were infants.
Voices echoed above them, sharp and angry, spoken in a language Void had never heard—yet somehow understood perfectly.
"You deceived me!" a man roared. "All this time—!"
Void felt a sudden pressure sweep through the space, like the atmosphere itself had grown heavier. Even as a newborn, his instincts screamed danger.
Another voice responded, calm and deep, carrying an authority that silenced everything around it.
"You were given more than enough."
Void's blurred vision slowly focused on the source.
An old man stood at the center of the room, silver hair falling neatly behind his back, his posture straight and unmoving. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
Everyone else seemed small in comparison.
Apex Zero.
Void didn't know his name yet.
But something inside him understood one thing very clearly.
This man is not someone you defy.
Before him, a younger man knelt on the ground, fury twisted across his face—Hollow Zero, their father.
"I am your son!" Hollow shouted. "If you rule these lands, then I should inherit them all!"
Apex Zero looked down at him.
Not with anger.
With disappointment.
"You confuse ambition with worth," he said quietly.
The air shattered.
Void didn't see it happen—he felt it.
A crushing force slammed Hollow Zero into the ground, the impact shaking the room violently. The pressure was suffocating, overwhelming, and terrifying.
Void's tiny body trembled uncontrollably.
Beside him, Vector—once Victor—cried out, instinctively reacting to the same fear.
Hollow Zero screamed as glowing restraints wrapped around him, sealing his movements completely.
"This is mercy," Apex Zero said. "Remember that."
With a single motion of his hand, Hollow Zero was dragged away, vanishing behind a sealed gateway of light.
Silence followed.
Void's eyes drifted to the side.
There was a boy standing behind Apex Zero.
Watching.
He didn't speak. He didn't flinch. His gaze was sharp, calculating, and filled with something cold.
Zenith Zero.
The eldest grandson.
He had seen everything.
And he remembered it.
Years passed.
Void Zero grew up in a world ruled by fear and power. Apex Zero was known as the supreme ruler of three vast countries, a man whose name alone was enough to silence kings.
Stories surrounded him—whispers of wars ended in moments, of enemies erased completely.
No one dared question him.
Zenith Zero thrived.
He trained harder than anyone. He learned faster than anyone. And most importantly—
He possessed two demonic eyes.
A sign of overwhelming potential.
Void and Vector each had only one.
The difference was obvious.
Servants whispered behind their backs. Nobles sneered openly. Even instructors looked at them with disappointment.
When the twins finally challenged Zenith, it wasn't out of pride.
It was desperation.
They needed to prove they weren't failures.
The battle ended quickly.
Too quickly.
Void was thrown aside like a broken doll. Vector collapsed moments later, unable to even touch Zenith.
They waited.
For anger.
For punishment.
For intervention.
Apex Zero merely watched.
"They are all my grandchildren," he said. "Their paths will be decided by their own strength."
That indifference cut deeper than any wound.
That night, beneath a dark sky, Void clenched his fists.
"We train," he said.
Vector nodded silently.
For two years, they disappeared.
And when they returned—
The world was already burning.
Zenith Zero had conquered five countries.
And his gaze had turned toward the last territory still untouched.
Their grandfather's.