Arc III.5: “Zero”
Chapter II: “Conquest of Utopia”
Episode II: “Greed of Zereth”
[The Great Universal Syndicate]
[The personal army of the young Lord Acier]
A boy sat on a throne carved from dark crystal and polished metal, feet not even reaching the lowest step.
Around him, hundreds of soldiers stood in perfect silence—two long lines flanking the carpet like teeth around a tongue.
Beyond the throne room’s viewport, a fleet hung in formation: ship after ship, each one carrying fighters trained to obey without question.
He was ten years old, small, precise, and impossibly calm.
Acier of the Zerethian Clan didn’t need height to look down on a room.
Zerethians didn’t posture. They measured.
A soldier marched down the carpet, stopped at the base of the steps, and dropped to one knee.
“Lord Acier. The Kaelithian operation has stalled. It’s been six months without any decisive engagement.”
The soldier paused, then gulped—sweat slipping down their temple.
“The planet still stands,” the soldier added carefully. “Untouched.”
Acier didn’t move. He rested his head against his knuckles, elbow on the throne’s arm, eyes half-lidded.
Silence stretched—long enough to make the kneeling soldier’s throat tighten.
At the foot of the steps stood two Zerethians: one tall and rigid like a blade kept sheathed… and one just a bit shorter, restless, smiling like hunger with teeth.
And beside them—still, composed, out of place in a room built for obedience—stood Cataline.
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“Oi, oi, oi…” the shorter one sang under his breath, smile widening. “Kaelithians. Useless brutes.”
He licked his lip like the word itself tasted good.
The taller one didn’t look at him. “Control yourself, Geal. Your lack of restraint disgraces the Clan.”
Geal’s shoulders rolled once—like he was holding back a configuration change out of boredom.
“Aw, big bro Solid!” he said between cynical laughter. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. All that stressing you do isn’t good for your health, you know. You’re gonna age prematurely.”
Cataline didn’t react to either of them. She watched the kneeling soldier as if reading a report written into bone—then lifted her gaze straight to Acier.
“This is what I warned you about,” she said calmly. “Kaelithians conquer with force. Utopia resists with structure.”
Geal’s smile twitched. “Hah. A Utopian telling us how Utopia works.”
Solid’s attention sharpened—quiet, guarded.
“They’ve layered their defenses around something they believe is sacred,” Cataline continued, voice even. “A planet that survives six months of invasion isn’t lucky. It’s protected.”
She stepped forward one pace—measured, deliberate. “If you take Utopia, you won’t just take territory. You’ll take what makes them unbreakable.”
The room didn’t move. Even the soldiers seemed to hold their breath.
Acier’s eyes narrowed a fraction—interest, not surprise.
Cataline’s tone stayed polite. But the blade underneath it was clear.
“And if you don’t,” she finished softly, “someone else will.”
“Enough.”
Acier’s voice was quiet—yet the entire room obeyed it like gravity.
He straightened in his throne, gaze sharpening.
“Mobilize the fleet. If the Kaelithians can’t claim Utopia…”
His eyes narrowed. “…then the Syndicate will.”
They dared to resist him. That was the real offense.
“The fleet will be ready by morning, Lord Acier!”
A roar of approval rose from the room—disciplined, rehearsed, hungry to be used.
Geal’s grin sharpened. By morning?
He turned and walked out like the timetable was an insult.
Keeping a close eye on him, Solid followed without a word. Close enough to stop him—not close enough to provoke him.
Acier raised one hand, palm outward—like he was already gripping the cosmos by the throat.
“Everything in this realm will be mine.”
He didn’t shout. He didn’t need to.
The soldiers answered anyway. “YES, LORD ACIER!”
A vow spoken like an order—one the universe might eventually be forced to honor.
[Elsewhere – In Space]
Raida and Kukito met Chrollo whenever long-distance patrol allowed them “free time.”
It irritated him—mostly because it kept interrupting his naps.
Raida crossed his arms. “Why do you sleep so much? You were floating around space for decades, right? You act like time doesn’t matter to you,” Raida added, uneasy.
“I can’t die,” Chrollo said flatly.
His eyes drifted past them, like he was watching something far away.
“I’m waiting for something… that may never come.”
Kukito felt the weight of that sentence like a stone in his chest. “You’re… waiting for death?”
“Anyway,” Chrollo started, “It seems the two of you are finally getting the hang of your new abilities.”
His lips curved into an exaggerated grin.
Kukito formed an aether orb—then compressed it, darkening the spectrum until it became a tight sphere of Negative aether.
The air didn’t flare. It tightened.
Raida lifted his palm and started gathering Environmental aether—not by pulling harder, but by pulling cleaner, reducing waste until even the smallest ambient traces began to answer.
Chrollo nodded, watching Raida’s aether. “And you also learned my Formless Quick Casting. That’s rare. Most mortals need shape and ritual, but you’re learning to skip both.”
Raida’s grin widened. “I can push this higher.”
“Higher,” Chrollo repeated, amused.
“Just sipping ambient aether isn’t enough,” Raida said. “You told me Environmental aether can draw from nature-bound reservoirs, not just loose ambience.”
Kukito’s expression tightened. “Raida… what exactly are you thinking?”
Chrollo’s smile thinned. “Careful. ‘More’ is how mortals break themselves.”
Greed didn’t live only in Zerethians.
Sometimes it wore a Sage uniform and called itself ambition.
And far away, a different kind of greed was already moving toward Utopia.
[Next Time on Lyte of Utopia]: “Solid and Geal”
[Yield Levels]:
Acier: 10z
- Reserved Core Form: 9z
Geal: 2z
- Predator Form: 100,000
Solid: 500 – 2z
- Reserved Core Form: 500,000
Soldiers: 1,000-10,000