The warmth on his skin was what the boy noticed first. Small, raspy licks moved across his cheek, a dampness that drew him out of emptiness. His fingers stirred against the stone ground he was resting on, and when his eyes opened, silver fur was the first thing he noticed. A small creature—a wolf pup—was licking his face, its bright amber eyes looking at him expectantly.
The boy hauled himself into a sitting position, his body aching, his mind empty. He blinked, grasping for something—a name, a memory, anything. There was nothing. His mind was empty, a book with all its pages torn out. All he knew for certain was that he was alive.
He looked down at his hands, firm but calloused. One of his arms, though, was encased in a deep black substance that was nearly goo-like. His clothing was worn, slightly shredded, and strange. His chest was tight, though his breathing was even. Who am I?
The wolf pup whimpered softly, rubbing against his arm.
"…You know me, don't you?" he whispered, taken aback by the harshness of his own voice. Yet the puppy merely licked his hand, ears perked.
That's when he noticed the shattered mirror beside him. Jagged pieces of glass littered the cave floor, some of them reflecting his confused face. He peered in, staring into one of the larger pieces. A boy with light brown skin, short, sorta curly black hair, and gold eyes stared back at him.
His face, and yet… he felt nothing for it. No bond. No familiarity. A stranger in the mirror.
Something was wrong. Everything was wrong.
He had no time to think more about it before a noise echoed through the cave. Footsteps. Voices.
The boy tensed immediately, his body responding by reflex. He crouched down, picking up a nearby rock as a weapon. Four people appeared out of the darkness a moment later.
They were diverse. A big, burly man with dark skin and a spear that had seen numerous battles; a skinny young woman with intense eyes and a bow slung over her shoulder; an older man with graying hair and a torn scar down his chin; and finally, a woman who commanded attention without uttering a single word.
She stood in front of him, a tall, broad-shouldered woman with the confidence that doesn't come from arrogance but from competence. Her auburn hair was tied back behind her in a plain ponytail, her bright blue eyes searching the cave like a hawk. A sword was at her hip, well-used but well-maintained.
The moment she spotted him, she frowned.
"You," she said, voice steady but not unfriendly. "Who're you?"
The boy's mouth opened, but there were no words. Who was he? He did not know.
His silence did not seem to shock her. She stepped in closer, studying his face. Then her eyes drifted to the shattered mirror.
The others looked as well. The older man whistled. "Well, that ain't good. He came outta that thing?"
The boy clenched his fists. "I… don't know," he admitted. His own voice sounded odd in his ears. "I don't recall."
The girl archer tsked. "Another one, huh? He's gotta be an otherworlder."
"Maybe," the spearman growled. "Brown skin, curly hair… not exactly common around here. But not unknown."
"Regardless," the older man said, "he was near a summoning site. That's suspicious enough."
The boy absorbed their words, trying to fit them together. Otherworlder? Summoning site? Everything was new, and yet inside him, something was where it should be.
Its head watched him closely. "…You don't remember anything at all?"
He shook his head. "Nothing."
She exhaled slowly. "Very well. Stand up."
The boy obeyed, and the wolf cub yipped as it circled his feet. He was about the same height as the archer but shorter than the others.
After a long moment, the leader gave a decisive nod. "You're coming with us."
The boy hesitated. "…Why?"
Because you're lost. And you don't look like you'll survive long on your own," she stated practically. "We're going to pick up the newest batch of otherworlders. If you're one of them, perhaps something will stimulate your memory. If not… " She shrugged. "Then you'll see what you'll do from there.".
It was a choice, but not really. There was no other path, no alternative path, for the boy. If they could give him answers, even a clue, he had to try.
".Okay."
The members nodded, and the leader turned on her heel. "Let's move."
As they exited the cave, the boy was walking alongside the spear-carrying man, who glanced down at him. "You have a name, kid?"
His throat tightened. He wanted to retort, but he had none.
".No," he acquiesced.
The group glanced at each other. The older man stroked his chin. "Can't keep calling him 'kid' all the time."
"We need to name him," the archer said.
The leader did not face them, but after a beat, she said.
".Zero."
The boy's eyelids fluttered. "Zero?"
"That's your name now," she said. "You don't have anything. A clean slate. So until you find out who you are, you're Zero."
Zero.
The name fell on his chest—odd, yet fitting.
Zero took a deep breath. "Okay."
And with that, he followed them into the unknown.