Selene's expression grew serious as she spoke. "For decades, this underworld has kept the surface safe from things people could never imagine. But something has changed. The barrier between our world and theirs has weakened, and the creatures have been slipping through more often. Worse, more gates are opening. If this continues, it won't be long before the people on the surface realize what's happening. They'll know about the creatures, and everything we've tried to keep hidden will come to light."
Null stared at her, the weight of her words making his mind spin. "Barrier? What do you mean? How does a barrier weaken? What is it even made of?"
Selene sighed and paused for a moment, as if choosing her words carefully. "There's a space between worlds—an emptiness, a void. It's what keeps the worlds separate, what prevents creatures from crossing over into each other's realms. For the longest time, that space held firm, keeping them out. But about 17 years ago, something changed. The barrier started to falter, and cracks appeared. Since then, creatures have been slipping through, and gates have been forming at an alarming rate."
Null's confusion only deepened. "Why did it weaken? And how do you know this?"
"That's the thing," Selene said, her eyes dark with concern. "We don't know why it started weakening. We only realized what was happening when we saw the first surge of creatures all those years ago. We were forced to adapt quickly, to learn how to travel between worlds ourselves. If we hadn't, we wouldn't have stood a chance. We never knew the full extent of the danger lurking beyond until the barrier began to fail."
She looked at him intently, as if willing him to understand. "It's not just about defending our world anymore. It's about figuring out how much time we have before the surface world becomes completely exposed."
Null tried to process what Selene had just told him, but the weight of it was too much. A barrier separating worlds, weakening gates, and creatures slipping through—none of it felt real, yet here he was, in the middle of it all. His mind spun, unable to fully grasp the enormity of what she was saying.
But then, something clicked in his mind.
Seventeen years. The barrier had started to weaken 17 years ago, and that was exactly how old he was. The connection unsettled him, pulling him back into memories he'd buried deep. He didn't even know who his parents were. From the very beginning, he had been an orphan, raised in a place that never truly felt like home.
He recalled asking the caretakers, desperate for answers about where he came from. But their explanations were always the same—vague, indifferent. They said he was left on the doorstep of the orphanage one night, with no note, no explanation. Just an unwanted child, abandoned. It was a story that never satisfied him. There were always too many questions, too much uncertainty.
And life in the orphanage had been far from kind. The other children treated him like he was something less than human, and even the caretakers looked at him with unease, as if he was different—wrong. They never said it outright, but he could see it in their eyes, in their actions. They treated him like a monster.
The worst part was, he understood why. He didn't feel like the others. Emotions never came to him the way they seemed to for everyone else. The things that made people cry or laugh, the things that made them feel alive, didn't reach him. He felt... nothing.
That emptiness scared people. And that's why they had given him the nickname "Null." It wasn't his real name, but over time, it stuck. Everyone used it, and the name became a reflection of the hollow, emotionless person they saw him as.
Why? he thought bitterly. Why was I different? Was it just bad luck, or was there something more? The timing, the weakening of the barrier, his lack of connection to anyone or anything... Could it all be related?
Null's heart raced, his mind swirling with questions. The emptiness inside him, the void that had always defined his existence—could it somehow be tied to this strange, otherworldly reality Selene spoke of? He didn't know, but for the first time, he felt like there might be a reason for everything he had endured. A terrible, incomprehensible reason.
But for now, he kept silent, his confusion and anger simmering beneath the surface. Too much was happening too fast, and he wasn't ready to confront it all. Not yet.
Alone in this world, Null had no choice but to run. The orphanage had never been a home to him. Even if the caretakers hadn't outright kicked him out, their eyes had already made it clear how much he was despised. Every glance they gave him was filled with something worse than hate—a deep, unspoken disgust. They didn't need to say the words; Null could see it in their faces.
A young boy who knew nothing about the world, he had fled the orphanage with no plan, no sense of where to go. He just knew he couldn't stay there anymore. He couldn't bear to live with those eyes constantly watching him, judging him, seeing him as something less than human. He wasn't naïve enough to think things would get better there.
Null had always believed that a person couldn't be judged by their looks or even their actions alone, but by their eyes. Eyes didn't lie. He had learned that early on, that by looking into someone's eyes, he could tell what kind of person they truly were. And when he looked into the eyes of the other children, of the caretakers, he saw nothing but fear, rejection, and revulsion.
That's why he had to leave.
Somehow, he had managed to survive in this harsh world for 17 long years. He wasn't sure how, but he had done it. He may have been young and lost, not understanding much about life, but one thing he did understand was survival. Even though he hadn't fully grasped the cruelty of the world when he first ran, he learned quickly. He had no choice. It was a world that showed no kindness to someone like him—someone who didn't fit in, who didn't belong anywhere. But Null adapted. He did what he had to, living one day at a time, ignoring the emptiness inside him as best as he could.
He may not have understood everything, but he knew how to keep going. How to live. How to survive.
Selene glanced at Null, noticing he seemed lost in his own world, his eyes distant and unfocused. She called his name softly, once, then twice, but he didn't respond. Concern crept across her face, and she reached out, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. The touch pulled him out of his thoughts, and his gaze finally met hers.
"Null," she said quietly, her voice filled with concern. "What's going on? Is something wrong?"
For a moment, he considered telling her everything swirling in his mind—the memories, the confusion, the emptiness that had followed him his whole life. But instead, he simply shook his head. "No," he muttered. "I'm fine."
Selene didn't push him further, though a flicker of doubt remained in her eyes. Just then, the food arrived, breaking the tension. They ate in silence, the clinking of silverware against plates the only sound between them. Null focused on his meal, though he couldn't shake the thoughts lingering at the back of his mind.
After a few minutes, Selene finished and stood up. "Be ready for tomorrow," she said calmly, her tone shifting back to its usual composed self. She picked up the bill and walked toward the counter to pay. Null, still seated, watched her from across the room. He could see her handing over the money, her movements deliberate and steady, like everything else she did.
He sat there, silent, wondering what the next day would bring.
After finishing their meal, both Null and Selene stepped out of the restaurant, the cool night air brushing against their faces. Selene took out her phone and made a quick call. Within moments, a car pulled up to the curb, and a man stepped out, his movements quick and professional.
"This guy will take you to the hotel where you'll be staying tonight," Selene said, turning to Null. "Tomorrow morning, I'll come pick you up myself."
Null nodded silently, feeling a mix of unease and exhaustion. He glanced at the man, who motioned for him to follow without a word. Selene gave him a brief nod before walking away, disappearing into the night as quickly as she had appeared.
The man led Null to the car, and they drove in silence through the dimly lit streets. Not once did the driver speak, and Null didn't feel the need to break the silence either. The quiet only added to the strange tension building inside him.
When they arrived at the hotel, Null noticed several people standing around, their eyes fixed on him as though they had been waiting. Their presence made him uncomfortable, but he kept his head down, following the driver into the building. The man led him to his room, still without uttering a single word. It was as if speaking wasn't part of his job.
The door to the room clicked shut behind him, and Null was greeted by the heavy silence of the darkened space. No lights were on, and the shadows stretched across the room, swallowing everything in their path. Null didn't bother turning on the lights; he simply made his way to the bed, the events of the day weighing heavily on his mind.
Lying there in the darkness, he thought about tomorrow. What would it bring? What would Selene expect from him? The questions swirled in his mind, but exhaustion soon overtook him. Slowly, sleep crept in, pulling him into its embrace, and for a moment, the uncertainty and confusion faded away.