Zero's Hate, Zero's Collapse

Ruslan Zolgen's Diary:

February 11, 1795. Light snow turning to heavy snow.

Today, the predecessor was born.

I was in a terrible mood, terrible in every sense.

But I knew I could not act on emotion. Even so, no matter what, I could not.

I had to restrain myself.

I had to restrain myself.

No matter who it was for, I had to restrain myself.

Even if I was suffering, I could not make a sound. I could not.

Arno No. 0 followed behind Serim, practicing how to walk. Night had already fallen outside; it was around nine o'clock.

Although the gemstone body could be powered by feeding it magical energy, it was not her original body after all. She would certainly need time to become familiar with it.

"How does it feel, No. 0?" Serim asked, unable to hide his excitement.

No. 0 remained silent. She moved her wrist, then shook her head.

"Is something uncomfortable?" Seeing No. 0 shake her head, Serim immediately asked with "concern."

Ruslan stood behind Serim and No. 0, watching coldly.

Serim's concern was not concern for a person at all. It was more like concern for some precious, fragile object.

But honestly, No. 0 had indeed already left the realm of humanity. Her gemstone body reminded everyone—she was an aberration.

Though she had always been an aberration.

"It was expected that you would not yet be accustomed to moving. Take your time getting used to it." Serim grabbed No. 0's arm and inspected the engraved magic circuits installed within. Finding no problems, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Once you are used to using magical energy to drive your body, we can begin learning magecraft and gathering data for the next stage of research," Serim rambled on.

At Serim's words, No. 0's pupils