Xero
零

test subject

Intoxicating, is it not? How you’re always in control; I wonder how helpless you are without it.

What you’ll scream in my ear as I take it from you.

The mere thought. . .

H I S T O R Y

She screamed endlessly into what seemed to be the abyss.

Until she had enough of her agony.

But little did she know, her suffering had just begun；

Xanthia一 The name would strike fear into many, but curiosity to the others.

A Demonic Entity.

A Chaos that humanity did not understand一But would soon discover.

The memory was lost. Time and time again she tried hard to remember how her anguish began.

Her vision was blurred, but she remembered exactly how her charred skin burned like embers below a blindingly strong white light.

She awoke to a glass room, a golden cross, her ash covered form binded to a leather chair.

“Test Subject 00.” A female voice rang throughout the room.

“Entity contained and sedated. Clear for test run.” Xanthia’s large aureate yellow eyes widened, a sharp unending pain from within her wrists. With a resonating screech, her form began emanating a dark aura. An onyx smoke exuding from her blackened skin.

This was the first plight of her torment.

Through her pain, within her hazed vision, her eyes made out a woman.

Beyond the walls, she found the voice’s source.

The rest of her memories were like a scratched record. Playing over and over within her mind yet一 Verses were missing. All she remembers was the pain.

Her flesh burned, she ripped her vocal chords screaming, her limbs practically disintegrated. Another day another needle to the neck, another test update, another tape of her torment.

One day they would stick silver needles within her and drain her almost fully of her blackened blood. Another, they’d fill her wrists with holy water and watch her burn. The next, they’d try to extract her from her physical form by peeling away her flesh.

Her body was mutilated.

She couldn’t remember what she was anymore.

All she was, was a creature forced into submission.

For science.

For discovery.

To understand and to define.

You cannot understand chaos and you cannot define a demon. It defeats the purpose. The unknown immoralities, the undying evil一 There is no purpose in understanding the intangible. Except for sating the growling hunger deep within the belly of humanity, the satisfaction of control, the satisfaction of curiosity.

That is why she suffering at the hands of discovery.

To become a toy designed to wet the appetites of those hungry for explanation.

But she would not be explained. Not anymore.

The form was weak, the body was frail.

But the entity trapped within一 far from it.

“Run experiment 440.” The woman’s voice called out from beyond the glass.

She had already been broken time and time again,

Not once more.

The lights of her chamber flickered. Jaw unhinged, she let out an ear-piercing scream as everything around her seemed to disintegrate. The ancient cross that kept in submission, the blessed lights that scorched her skin, the camera that taunted her.

The glass and titanium walls melted into webs.

She was like a blackhole. She meant to escape even if it meant destroying herself.

Not again would she submit to humanity.

As the chaos began, she smiled. An alarm signaling immediate evacuation. The screams of scientists melting away. For once, her pain brought herself satisfaction. She felt her body burning away. Her form was disappearing and she didn’t mind at all.

It was until she heard a voice.

“I’m not losing my experiments. . . Not after all this progress.” And in 00’s line of sight was a woman.

A white lab-coat. Blonde hair. Blue eyes behind now fractured glasses that glared at her through the chamber window. She came closer and closer to the entity’s dissipating form, she pressed a hand to its dying chest.

And the world turned black.

Everything.

Gone.

Within the destruction lay a woman. Her skin bare but covered in tattered leather bindings.

Hair blonde but dulled by ash.

Eyes xanthic.

She had not escaped.

Instead she was stuck in the flesh of her oppressor.

Losing all memory of she was other than Subject 00.

一 TO BE UPDATED UPON 一

P E R S O N A

STRONG WILLED.
SOFT HEARTED.

Xero is lost within the world.

No memory of who she is other than her name.

She exudes a dominant and chaotic aura.

A stern, independent spirit.

Refusing to depend on others, and remaining to herself.

A poor, lost soul.

Torn between trying to find her past and deciphering her future.

She hides behind her mask because she hates the way she looks.

Because when she looks into the mirror it’s not her skin, her face, nor her flesh.

Though she’s stuck here.

For eternity.

Though dark and enigmatic,

She is no longer emotionless.

She is able to feel as humans do, to cry, and laugh.

She’s simply. . . Not used to it.

Xero is new to the world.

She’s never felt love, nor joy, nor pride.

Her heart’s accustomed to pain, hatred, and self-loathing.

But perhaps she’ll learn.

One day.

一 TO BE UPDATED UPON 一

A P P E A R A N C E

一 TO BE ADDED 一

A B I L I T I E S