ZZZ:Through the Frosted Mirror

Ellen barely had time to react before she felt herself being pulled further into the abyss.

The void yawned open, stretching endlessly as shadows of the past consumed her. Nihility wrapped around her like an unseen force, seeping into her very being. She saw lives—countless lives—flash before her eyes. Creatures of all shapes and sizes, beings of great power and those of insignificance, all had fallen into Nihility. Each one a lost soul, their existence erased and scattered like dust.

She lived through their suffering, felt their pain as if it were her own. A mighty warrior who had fought for their people, only to be abandoned. A scholar who sought knowledge, only to realize the truth was hollow. A child who wandered alone, forgotten by time. Ellen became them. She felt their despair, their hopelessness, their longing for something—anything—to give them meaning. And each time, Nihility swallowed them whole.

Her mind cracked with every life she endured, her will trembling under the weight of their collective agony. But it didn't stop. It never stopped.

Then, through the storm of souls, a singular existence took form. A woman. The same woman Ellen had seen before—tall, beautiful, draped in white and red, with silver hair that cascaded down her back.

Acheron.

Ellen did not know her name yet, but she was forced to live through her story all the same.

It began with a girl who knew warmth, who knew hope. A girl who had once laughed under a sky of brilliant colors, whose heart had been filled with dreams. But those dreams were shattered. One by one, the people she cherished were taken away, devoured by a world that cared nothing for the bonds she held dear. She fought. She resisted. She refused to let despair consume her.

But in the end, even she was not spared.

Ellen felt Acheron's agony, her sorrow, the moment she lost everything. The moment the universe showed her that nothing truly mattered.

She felt the crushing silence of Nihility as it claimed her. She felt the shadow of IX wrap its cold, empty embrace around Acheron, stripping her of everything but existence itself.

And then… she fell.

Ellen plunged into the abyss, no longer able to hold onto herself.

There was no up, no down—only an endless void. She could feel Nihility gnawing at her, seeping into her bones, whispering to her in a voice so vast it drowned out her thoughts.

She was nothing.

She would always be nothing.

And then—

Ellen lay in complete darkness, the vast emptiness stretching endlessly around her. The floor beneath her rippled like water, its surface shifting in silent waves that pulsed outward from her unmoving form. She was curled up, bare and exposed, her body stripped of everything—her strength, her will, even her sense of self. The scars she had earned through countless battles, once faded and forgotten, reappeared across her body, glowing an eerie red against the void. Even her tail bore the same luminous marks, the only source of light in the abyss.

Her eyes, once sharp and determined, were now empty. Hollow.

Her thoughts were a tangled mess, shattered fragments of memories and doubts swirling through her mind like a storm she couldn't escape. She had fought so hard. She had grown so much. Ever since Hollow Zero, she had pushed herself beyond her limits, believing that her strength would be enough to protect those she cared about. But in the end, it hadn't mattered.

She had lost her arm trying to destroy a Hollow that threatened to swallow the entirety of the Southern District of New Eridu. She had thrown everything she had at it, and yet, it was Miyabi who had defeated the Ethereal that had taken her arm. Miyabi, who with a single swing of her katana had obliterated the Hollow and accomplished what Ellen could not.

And then Mira—the one Ellen had sworn to protect—had been kidnapped.

Ellen had fought to save her. She had pushed herself past exhaustion, clawing her way through every obstacle to bring Mira back. But the moment she thought she could breathe, that their fight was over, the base had been attacked again. The Doctor had come, and Ellen had been powerless before the Twin Marionettes. They had beaten her to the brink of death, her body crushed and broken. The only reason she was still alive was Mira. The very girl she was supposed to protect had been the one to save her instead.

Every negative thought, every insecurity that she had always brushed aside, now surged forward, drowning her. The crushing weight of failure bore down on her, suffocating her.

You're not strong enough.

You never were.

You've always been a step behind.

What's the point of fighting if you can't protect anyone?

The void around her grew darker, deeper, as the whispers of Nihility slithered into her mind, wrapping around her like chains. The glow of her scars flickered, dimming as the last vestiges of her resolve crumbled.

There was nothing left.

Just her and the void.

Ellen lay motionless in the void, her body curled in on itself, her mind fragmented and broken. The rippling floor beneath her reflected nothing but the emptiness that had consumed her. Scars that had long healed reopened, glowing faintly with a crimson hue—the only light in this forsaken abyss. Her thoughts, usually sharp and unwavering, were now a chaotic storm of self-doubt and failure, drowning her in despair. There was no point in moving, no point in breathing. She had given everything, and in the end, it had amounted to nothing.

The silence of the void was disturbed by the sound of footsteps, soft yet deliberate. Ripples formed in the liquid darkness as the presence drew closer. Ellen did not react, nor did she acknowledge the figure approaching her. She felt no need to. What more could be taken from her? What more could she lose?

Black sandals entered her vision, stopping just in front of her curled form. The figure settled gracefully into a seiza position, her presence calm yet unyielding. Ellen still did not move, her gaze unfocused, hollow.

Then, the silence was broken by a voice—empty, cold, devoid of emotion.

"There was once a girl named Raiden Bosenmori Mei."

Ellen's breath barely hitched, but she remained unresponsive. The woman continued, weaving a tale of tragedy and futility, her voice never wavering.

"She came from a beautiful planet named Izumo, part of a star system that also housed another planet, Takamagahara. One day, Yaoyorozu no Kami descended from Takamagahara, bringing destruction in their wake. The people of Izumo fought back, forging twelve blades from the remains of a Sovereign sent by the Kami. But it was not enough. More enemies came, and their civilization crumbled. In a final effort, the twelve blades were broken down to forge two new ones—Origin and End."

The void pulsed around them, reacting to the weight of the story.

"The girl who carried Origin, disagreed with her closest friend, Shiraga Oni, who wielded End. They fought over the fate of their dying world, blades clashing amidst the ruins of what once was. But in the end, Acheron stood victorious, striking down Shiraga Oni with their shattered weapons."

Ellen could almost see it—the battle, the blood, the betrayal. She could feel the emotions as if they were her own. And yet, she remained still, eyes vacant.

"But even that battle was meaningless. Their fight, their sacrifices—nothing could change the fate of Izumo and Takamagahara. The truth had already been written: both planets were doomed, fated to be consumed by the black hole that they had unknowingly orbited. IX, the embodiment of Nihility, had always been there, watching, waiting."

The void grew darker. Ellen's scars pulsed with the crimson glow, flickering weakly.

"Faced with the truth, the girl accepted Nihility. She embraced the void, the absence of meaning. Using the remnants of her life force, she reforged the broken shards of Origin into a final blade—Naught. With it, she unleashed her last strike against IX, a desperate attempt to defy the inevitable."

A pause. Then, the final words came, heavy and absolute.

"But she failed."

The story settled in the abyss like a forgotten echo. Ellen did not move, did not speak. The weight of it all pressed down on her, suffocating.

The woman before her, the one who had once been Raiden Bosenmori Mei, the one who had become Acheron, simply stared at her, waiting.

Waiting for Ellen to break further—or to rise anew.

Acheron let silence take hold of the void once more, the weight of her words settling into the infinite abyss. The emptiness surrounded them, endless and unchanging, but Acheron knew better. To the untrained eye, Ellen seemed unresponsive, her body curled in the darkness, eyes empty and lifeless. But Acheron saw it—a flicker, a glimmer, the smallest fragment of light buried deep within those broken eyes. It was faint, barely clinging on, but it was there.

She exhaled slowly, her cold, empty voice breaking through the void again. "I could have fallen," she murmured, her gaze unwavering. "I could have disappeared into Nihility, let it consume me, let myself fade into nothingness. It would have been easy."

Her words carried no emotion, yet they struck with the weight of a thousand lifetimes. She wasn't simply speaking to Ellen—she was speaking to herself, to the path she had once stood upon, to the choice she had once faced. "But if I had... then everything that led me here would have meant nothing. Every battle fought, every sacrifice made, every life lost... it would all have been for nothing. And that thought unsettled me."

Her violet eyes, once void of all but cold acceptance, now burned with something deeper, something almost imperceptible—resolve. "I did not want everything that my people, my world, had done to be forgotten. I could have disappeared, but I didn't. I chose to continue living—not for myself, but for them. For Izumo. So that their memories would not be lost, even if in the end, it will all mean nothing."

She shifted slightly, her gaze never leaving Ellen's form. The once-blinding abyss around them seemed almost dimmer now, as if it, too, was listening. Acheron leaned forward slightly, her voice still devoid of warmth, yet carrying something raw and undeniable. "So tell me, Ellen Joe—what is your reason to continue living, even if in the end, it would mean nothing?"

The void remained silent, waiting for an answer.

Acheron's question left Ellen lost, but she did not stay unresponsive. The words echoed in her mind, reverberating through the cracks in her broken will. She searched within herself for an answer, sifting through the memories and battles that had shaped her. Every hardship, every wound, every moment of despair—what had kept her moving forward despite it all?

Then, the answer became clear.

She fought for the people she cared about. No matter what it cost—an arm, a leg, even her life—she would continue fighting if it meant those around her could stand beneath the dawn of a new day without the looming shadow of despair. If her struggle could ensure that those she cherished could breathe easy, free from the horrors that sought to consume them, then she would fight until she had nothing left to give. She would live until she knew, beyond doubt, that they were safe.

Ellen sat up, her once-vacant eyes now burning with newfound resolve, and gave Acheron her answer.

As the words left her lips, the scars across her body began to drip with red liquid, staining the dark floor beneath her. The black void was tainted crimson, yet Ellen felt no pain—only a shift, a transformation. Slowly, the searing red of her scars faded into a deep, rich blue, as though the very essence of her suffering had been rewritten into something new.

Above them, the endless darkness began to churn. Thick, black clouds gathered overhead, pregnant with the weight of something unknown. Then, the first raindrop fell. A second. A third. A quiet, rhythmic patter as the heavens wept.

Yet neither of them moved.

Acheron watched Ellen in silence, then, for the first time, smiled. It was warm—small, but real, a flicker of light in an abyss that had long forgotten the sun.

"As long as you hold onto your beliefs," Acheron murmured, "you will never fall."

She leaned forward, pressing her forehead gently against Ellen's, an unspoken understanding passing between them. And in that instant, everything shifted.

The void collapsed into a swirl of starlight and shadow, space bending and twisting around them. When Ellen opened her eyes, she found herself standing in a vast landscape, where stars stretched infinitely across the sky. At the center of it all loomed a massive black hole, its presence undeniable, inescapable.

But this time, Ellen did not feel despair.

She gazed upon the cosmic abyss, the endless spiral of creation and destruction, and for the first time, she saw its beauty.

Ellen gazed upon the star-filled sky, the vast expanse stretching endlessly before her. It was a sight unlike any other, a celestial canvas painted with countless lights, yet her eyes were drawn to the black hole at its center. It was no longer a source of dread for her but rather something undeniably beautiful.

As she stood in awe, something fell from the abyss, descending like a single drop of water slipping from the edge of eternity. Ellen moved toward it calmly, sensing no hostility from whatever had emerged. She soon reached the small crater formed by its impact, peering inside to see a figure lying still within its center.

It was IX—the Aeon of Nihility—in a mortal form.

IX had a feminine appearance, her body an ethereal blend of reality and void. Her pale skin had an almost translucent quality, as though she were a being of mist given shape. Long, flowing hair, darker than the void itself, cascaded around her like ink bleeding into water. Strands of silver intertwined with the darkness, flickering like dying stars. Her eyes, vast pools of emptiness, held no light—yet beneath their abyssal depths, Ellen could sense something unfamiliar: warmth.

Her form was draped in tattered garments that shimmered between existence and nonexistence, resembling the remnants of a celestial veil. Crimson markings adorned her arms and legs, pulsating faintly like the last embers of a dying star. Two delicate horns protruded from her head, barely distinguishable against the vast darkness of space.

Ellen knelt beside her, observing the Aeon's stillness. IX stared back at her, expression blank, yet something stirred within those empty eyes. Ellen felt it—a quiet yearning, a silent call hidden beneath the abyss. Without hesitation, she reached out and pulled IX into an embrace, pressing the celestial being against her chest.

IX remained motionless at first, as if unaccustomed to such contact. Then, ever so slightly, Ellen felt her shift, pressing herself deeper into the embrace. A quiet acceptance, an understanding neither of them needed words to express.

Time lost all meaning as Ellen continued to hold her. The stars stretched infinitely around them, and for what felt like ages, there was only silence, only the quiet hum of existence reverberating between them.

Then, something changed.

Ellen felt it—a slow awareness creeping in, a sensation of waking from something profound yet undeniably real. She knew this was not a dream; everything she had experienced had been real. IX must have sensed it too. Ellen felt the faintest tremor from the Aeon, the tightening of her grip as if she did not wish for Ellen to leave. A silent plea, a quiet tether formed between them.

Ellen responded with gentle reassurance, her arms securing IX in a comforting hold. She didn't understand why their connection felt so intimate, so natural, but she didn't question it. It felt right.

As the feeling of waking became stronger, Ellen closed her eyes, allowing herself to be carried away from the stars, from the black hole, from IX's embrace. The world around her shifted, dissolving into warmth and familiarity.

Slowly, she opened her eyes to find herself back in her room.

The soft glow of early morning filtered through the window, casting a gentle light over the space. Ellen felt a weight on her body—no, two. As she glanced down, she saw Miyabi and Mira sleeping soundly on top of her, their peaceful expressions unguarded in slumber.

A small, genuine smile graced Ellen's lips. She let out a quiet sigh before tightening her hold on them, pulling them just a little closer. For the first time in what felt like forever, the void within her felt a little less empty.

And in that moment, she simply allowed herself to exist.