Three days had passed since the Lion Gang’s assault on Axis Academy. Elian had just been discharged from the infirmary.

  Returning to his apartment, Elian sat at his desk, scrolling through surveillance footage from the attack. His gaze fixed on that blinding flash of light—his mind replayed the moment when a mysterious, angelic girl had descended from the glow.

  He muttered to himself, “Come to think of it, I never really got a good look at her face…”

  The door lock clicked.

  Beep.

  A soft chime indicated successful clearance. There was no knock—just the quiet sound of the apartment door opening on its own.

  Elian’s thoughts snapped back to the present. He suddenly sensed a faint presence by the door and instinctively looked up—

  There, standing silently in the doorway, was a girl.

  She was barefoot, wearing nothing but a hospital gown. Her frame was slender and delicate, her posture so light she seemed weightless. Silver hair cascaded down like starlight, and her icy blue eyes shimmered with a calm, emotionless clarity. Her flawless and ethereal beauty was bathed in the soft morning light—so surreal it felt like a dream.

  Elian froze, stunned for two full seconds, his mind blank.

  “It’s… her?”

  Questions surged in his head, but not a single one made it past his lips.

  The girl blinked once, her gaze still on him. Then, in a soft and steady voice, she said:

  “Hello. I’m Zero.”

  “Uh, oh… hi. I’m Elian,” he replied, shaken from his trance. His voice was slightly stiff, unconsciously tinged with reverence. Even without the aura she had radiated that day, her presence was unmistakable—impossible to ignore.

  “I’m an Observer,” Zero continued, “and you are a High-Priority Observation Subject.”

  Elian blinked. “Observer? High-Priority what now?”

  Zero looked at him quietly. Her ice-blue eyes were tranquil, completely devoid of emotion.

  “I don’t know,” she said honestly, her tone even. “I don’t know what those four words truly mean… or why it’s you.”

  She hesitated, her gaze drifting slightly, as if searching for fragments of memory scattered in her mind.

  “It’s like… a satellite orbiting the planet with the greatest gravity,” she said, voice low. “I don’t understand why. I just feel… drawn.”

  Elian tilted his head, tension rising in his voice. “So what does that mean for you?”

  Zero extended her hand. Her fingers were slender, pale. Resting on her palm was a small chip that glowed softly with a blue light.

  “So I need to stay close to the High-Priority Observation Subject,” she said. “Principal Nagami Kuro gave me the access key to your apartment. I’ll be staying in the empty room.”

  “What?” Elian stared at the chip in disbelief. Instinctively, he stepped to the side, opened his wrist terminal, and called the private channel labeled “Old Man.”

  A few seconds later, the holographic image of Nagami Kuro appeared, reclining lazily in his chair.

  “You forgot to tell me something kind of important, didn’t you?” Elian’s voice was low and irritated.

  Nagami chuckled. “Knew you’d call.”

  Elian glared. “Why didn’t you warn me ahead of time?”

  “If I had, you’d have run away,” Nagami said, smiling wider. “You’ve got a free room in your apartment, don’t you? When she woke up, she insisted on finding you, said something about a High-Priority Observation Subject. I couldn’t exactly say no.”

  Elian groaned and rubbed his forehead. “So now I’m just… being observed? Like some lab rat?”

  Nagami’s tone grew serious. “We still don’t know what she really is. But you’ve seen her power. Even if she’s lost her abilities, she’s still… extraordinary. And important. You’ll need to cooperate—show her around, help her get what she needs, and try to keep her safe.”

  “You’re seriously asking this of me?”

  “I’ve already registered her as a transfer student. Same grade as you. Her identity, her past, everything about her is classified. Just treat her well… and good luck.”

  Nagami ended the call before Elian could argue further.

  Elian stared at the now-black screen, sighed, and muttered, “Well… at least I’m not being observed by some greasy old dude.”

  He glanced sideways. The girl—Zero—was calmly inspecting the bookshelf. His eyes lingered on her silver hair and luminous face.

  “Still… she’s easy enough on the eyes, I guess,” he added under his breath.

  Suppressing the swirl of confusion and reverence in his heart, Elian grabbed his jacket and walked to the door.

  "Come on," he said to Zero, "Let’s pick out a uniform for you."

  Zero nodded and began to step out—barefoot.

  “Wait!” Elian quickly stopped her, his eyes drawn helplessly to her pale, bare feet. “You’re really going out like this?”

  Zero tilted her head slightly, seemingly puzzled by the question.

  With a sigh, Elian turned and rummaged through the shoe cabinet, finally pulling out a pair of house slippers and handing them to her. “Just wear these for now.”

  Zero slipped them on obediently, showing no sense that anything was amiss, and followed Elian out the door.

  Elian gave a wry smile, already sensing that this so-called “observation” might end up being a lot more trouble than he had expected.

  They walked side by side through the central ecological zone of Axis Academy. Verdant greenery surrounded them, and sunlight streamed through the dome above, scattering dappled shadows across their path.

  As they strolled toward the academy’s central district, Elian couldn’t help glancing at the silent girl walking beside him.

  “Hey… Zero,” he finally asked, “Where did you come from, exactly?”

  Zero turned her head slightly, her gaze calm. “I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

  Elian blinked, then pressed on, “Then how did you stop the activation of the Civilization Filter that day? And why… did you help us?”

  Zero’s ice-blue eyes blinked once. “I don’t know that either. I have no memory of anything before I woke up.”

  Elian frowned slightly at her serene expression, unsure whether to believe her or not. But after a pause, he simply muttered, “I guess we’ll figure it out eventually.”

  Zero nodded and continued to follow him in silence.

  Before long, they arrived at the Uniform Customization Center. Inside, a wide array of academy uniforms were neatly displayed in various styles.

  Elian gestured toward them. “Pick the one you like best.”

  Zero stood quietly in front of the display for a long while, unmoving.

  “…What’s wrong?” Elian asked.

  Zero turned back, slightly confused. “I don’t know how to choose. I don’t have a concept of ‘liking.’”

  Elian scratched his head, half exasperated, half amused. “Alright, I’ll choose one for you then.”

  He walked over to a terminal and tapped a few commands. The system quickly returned several recommended options. His eyes were drawn to one in particular—a classic white and blue sailor uniform.

  “…This one,” he murmured, almost to himself. “It suits you.”

  Zero nodded obediently and followed Elian’s instructions to the fitting room. Not long after, the door slid open, and she stepped out.

  The sailor uniform was pristine white, with pale blue accents on the skirt and collar that echoed the icy hue of her eyes. Her long silver hair flowed like moonlight down her back, and her skin gleamed like crystal under the lights. Though her expression remained neutral, her presence was ethereal—so pure it felt almost sacrilegious to stare.

  Elian found himself frozen for a moment, then quickly cleared his throat and looked away. “Ahem… yeah, that one’s perfect. Let’s go with it.”

  Zero glanced down at her outfit and softly said, “Okay.”

  With the uniform selected, they exited the customization center and headed toward the daily goods section. Halfway there, a familiar voice called out from behind them—excited, teasing.

  “Hey! Elian! Who’s the beauty?”

  Elian turned around and saw none other than Chen Liyun, grinning as he eyed Zero up and down.

  “She’s Zero, a new transfer student…”

  Before Elian could explain further, Zero spoke up in her usual calm tone. “He is my high-priority observation target. I have moved into his apartment for convenient close-range observation.”

  Chen Liyun’s face froze mid-smile. His expression twitched, shifted, and finally solidified into utter disbelief. “Wait. Did you just say… you’re living in his apartment?”

  Elian didn’t have time to stop him before Chen pulled him aside and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, face full of envy and awe. “Dude, are you kidding me? I mean, yeah, she talks kinda weird, but look at her! She’s like a literal angel! Is this the legendary ‘fall-from-the-sky’ scenario?!”

  Elian coughed, trying to hide his blush. “You’re imagining things. She’s just a transfer student. Professor Nagami asked me to help her settle in, that’s all.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Chen gave him a knowing look and patted his shoulder. “Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that… I’m dying of jealousy over here.”

  Elian rolled his eyes and turned away, calling back to Zero, “Come on, we still have a lot to pick up.”

  Zero silently fell in behind him, her steps light and silent. Her ice-blue eyes swept past Chen once, then quietly returned to their forward gaze.

  Chen watched them leave, still dazed. “I’ve seen a lot of crazy stuff… but this? This is some next-level romantic comedy crap. Elian, you lucky bastard.”

  Three Days Earlier

  The aftermath of battle was slowly dissipating in the core area of Axis Academy. Nagami Kuro directed his assistants to swiftly clear the scene, while personally inspecting the condition of the Hetu Supercomputer. The sudden assault had nearly shattered the academy's entire security system. Yet his gaze remained fixed on the unconscious silver-haired girl. Her sudden appearance had disrupted all expectations—and the traces she left behind, two mysterious objects, filled him with unease.

  “How is she?” Kuro turned to ask one of the assistants.

  “She’s been taken to the medical wing. Her vital signs are stable, but...” The assistant hesitated, then added, “Gene analysis confirms she’s human, but she doesn’t appear to be an ordinary lifeform.”

  Kuro narrowed his eyes and muttered, “Not an ordinary lifeform…”

  He crouched beside the spot where the girl had collapsed. His expression turned slightly complex as he reached out and picked up the two items she had left behind—a silver handle, about twenty centimeters long, and a metallic ring. Both emitted a faint glow, seemingly artifacts of highly advanced technology.

  He gently slipped them into his coat pocket, deciding he would bring them to the Galactic Academy of Sciences when he traveled to the Galactic Council headquarters. Perhaps they held the key to unraveling her identity.

  Meanwhile, Elian had also been sent to the hospital. Though his injuries weren’t severe, prolonged exposure to intense energy fluctuations had left his physical condition far from optimal. After confirming Elian was stable, Kuro returned to his office and began piecing things together.

  A holographic screen lit up before him. The interface of the Hetu Supercomputer unfurled like a boundless star map. He pulled up system activity logs from the emergency incident, only to find that the construction systems had been triggered at full capacity just before the Civilization Filter's countdown—yet all execution data had been mysteriously wiped, as if by a force beyond any known clearance level.

  “Who erased it?” Kuro pondered aloud. “Was it her? Or…”

  Just as he was about to close the interface, a high-priority warning message flashed across the screen:

  [Civilization Filter coordinates confirmed (Priority: EX+)]

  Kuro’s eyes sharpened. He immediately pulled up the exact location—it pointed to a deep, ancient stratum beneath the Arctic Circle on Earth. With the star date conversion verified, he summoned his assistant.

  “Contact the Seventh Special Operations Fleet. Dispatch a Beacon-class transport ship immediately to the Arctic. That device must be removed from Earth and sent to the Galactic Academy of Sciences for containment and research.”

  The assistant hesitated. “Director… the geological structure there is unstable. And the Filter might have defensive mechanisms. Wouldn’t that be—”

  Kuro cut him off, his tone unyielding. “Leaving that thing on Earth for even one more minute is a threat to all life.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Once the command was issued, Kuro stared silently at the screen, lost in thought. He knew Earth was merely the tip of the iceberg. If devices like this had been scattered across the galaxy even before its civilizations began… then this storm was far from over.

  After confirming that the Civilization Filter had been transported beyond the stratosphere, Nagami Kuro took a deep breath and prepared to depart for the Galactic Council’s central planet—Central Prime—to discuss the next steps of the investigation. He needed more answers, especially regarding how the Lion Syndicate had acquired Zero-Point Energy weapons.

  Central Prime, the heart of the Galactic Council, was situated on a terraformed artificial planet. It was where major civilizations and political forces converged, and the epicenter of galactic security and strategic decision-making.

  Nagami Kuro's arrival, accompanied by his aides, immediately drew the attention of the Council’s senior members.

  Surrounding him were rows of floating seats—council members hailing from a myriad of species and factions across the galaxy, including the Pacifist Bloc, the Militarist Bloc, and several neutral parties. The Pacifists were dedicated to maintaining galactic stability and democratic values, while the Militarists favored order through strength. The two sides frequently clashed, making the Council a hotbed of political tension and complex maneuvering.

  At this moment, the atmosphere within the chamber was especially tense.

  A representative from the Militarist Bloc was the first to speak, his tone sharp and accusatory. “Director Nagami, the Axis Academy suffered a catastrophic breach of security. You had no prior warning whatsoever? Is your defense system merely for show?”

  Nagami remained composed. “I admit the attack revealed vulnerabilities in our security protocols. However, the assault was sudden and executed with Zero-Point weaponry—strategic-class arms exclusively controlled by the Orpheus Defense Consortium. This was no ordinary terrorist attack.”

  A calm, resonant female voice echoed through the chamber. “Colleagues, please maintain order.”

  The speaker was Emira Saroa, the current Chair of the Galactic Council and a leading voice of the Pacifist Bloc. Her crimson skin and flowing golden eyes were characteristic of the Seiheh Stellar Federation, a race known for their diplomacy and rationality. Hailing from the intellectual rings of the galaxy’s edge, Emira had earned widespread respect for her logical mind and unwavering principles—despite regularly clashing with the Militarist elite. Her ability to mediate and balance opposing views had made her one of the few stabilizing forces in this gathering storm.

  She scanned the room with measured calm. “Orpheus Defense Consortium, please explain how Zero-Point weapons under your jurisdiction could fall into the hands of a terrorist group.”

  A middle-aged man in a navy-blue military uniform, the Consortium’s representative, stood and responded in a grave tone. “Our Zero-Point arsenal is under strict surveillance. We initiated an immediate internal investigation after the incident. No records indicate theft or unauthorized access.”

  Emira narrowed her eyes. “Then either your surveillance is critically flawed, or someone within your ranks deliberately leaked the weapons.”

  The representative’s expression darkened. “That’s merely speculation on your part.”

  “Do you have a more plausible explanation?” Emira countered without flinching.

  The representative fell silent, his face tense.

  Another Militarist councilor seized the opportunity to shift the topic. “Director Nagami, the Hetu Supercomputer was never officially approved by the Galactic Council. Its origin remains undocumented. Can you explain why the Academy is using unauthorized technology—technology that appears to have triggered a device as dangerous as the Civilization Filter?”

  Nagami calmly swept his gaze across the room. “Hetu’s existence was reported years ago. It has long served our research and tactical training programs without incident. In fact, it was Hetu that alerted us to the imminent activation of the Civilization Filter and provided its coordinates. As for the activation itself, we believe it was externally triggered. Hetu was not the cause.”

  “External?” a Pacifist representative asked, confused. “Are you saying the Lion Syndicate was merely a pawn?”

  Nagami nodded slowly. “Their operation was highly targeted. Their goal was clearly to compromise Hetu and Axis Academy’s core systems. There is a deeper conspiracy at play—especially surrounding the Civilization Filter.”

  “The device itself defies understanding,” a Militarist councilor scoffed. “We know so little about it. What makes you so sure it wasn’t an internal failure?”

  “Because we have detailed logs of the attack,” Nagami replied evenly. “The perpetrators possessed precise intelligence and were aided by clear signs of an inside collaborator.”

  A hushed uproar spread through the chamber as councilors exchanged alarmed whispers.

  Emira stood slowly. “Director Nagami, are you suggesting there is a traitor within the Galactic Council?”

  Nagami met her gaze without flinching. “I’m not accusing anyone. I’m merely presenting the facts. I recommend the Council form a special investigative committee and reinforce safeguards against Zero-Point technology leaks.”

  Emira nodded. “This motion will be tabled immediately.”

  A Militarist representative still objected. “Even so, the Academy failed to protect its facilities. That failure cannot be overlooked.”

  Nagami replied firmly, “Security upgrades are already underway. We will take full responsibility. But I urge this council—do not treat this as an isolated incident. It may only be the beginning.”

  After a brief silence, Emira announced, “This session is adjourned. A special investigation committee will be convened without delay.”

  Nagami gave a respectful nod. He already knew what had to be done. Once back on Earth, he would personally oversee the strengthening of the Academy’s defenses.

  The next day, after returning from Central Prime with newly gathered intelligence, Nagami was met with unexpected news—the mysterious silver-haired girl had regained consciousness.

  Nagami Kuro returned to Earth, bringing with him intelligence retrieved from Central Prime. The moment he disembarked from the ship, a piece of news reached him—

  The mysterious silver-haired girl had regained consciousness.

  The infirmary was quiet and immaculate. White walls blended softly with a glow of pale blue light, creating an atmosphere of calm and serenity.

  Nagami pushed open the door. The girl was seated calmly on the hospital bed, her head slightly turned as she gazed out at the bright sky beyond the window.

  Hearing the sound of the door, she slowly turned her head. Her ice-blue pupils, as clear as crystal, looked straight at Nagami with an unreadable expression—neither curiosity nor surprise.

  Nagami took a seat beside the bed and asked gently,

  “How do you feel? Any discomfort?”

  The girl shook her head lightly, her voice calm and detached. “My body is functioning normally.”

  Nagami nodded slightly.

  “In that case, I’d like to ask you a few questions. Would that be alright?”

  The girl gave a small nod, her gaze never wavering.

  He paused for a moment, then continued with a soft but serious tone.

  “Do you know where you came from?”

  The girl blinked slowly and answered in a quiet voice,

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then do you remember why you stopped the Civilization Filter? Or how you managed to do it?”

  She lowered her gaze, thoughtful for a moment, before shaking her head again. “I don’t remember.”

  Nagami’s brow furrowed. After a moment of thought, he asked,

  “Do you at least remember your name?”

  She nodded. “Zero.”

  “Zero…” Nagami repeated the name under his breath. Then asked again,

  “Is there anything else you recall?”

  After another pause, she replied evenly, “I only remember that I’m an Observer.”

  Nagami’s expression sharpened. “Observer? What does that mean?”

  Zero’s ice-blue eyes met his steadily, her tone filled with a strange clarity.

  “An Observer monitors high-priority observation targets… and records their behavior and influence.”

  Nagami’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Then who is your target?”

  A flicker of confusion passed through her gaze before she softly replied,

  “I don’t know his name… but I can sense that he’s nearby. His eyes are gray.”

  Nagami froze for half a second before quickly recovering his composure. A familiar face flashed through his mind, and his voice softened.

  “I believe I know who you’re looking for.”

  Zero tilted her head slightly but remained silent.

  Nagami went on, “This is Axis Academy—one of the most important military and scientific institutions in the galaxy. Here, we train warriors, researchers, and future leaders who will shape the fate of the stars.”

  He paused, watching her expression, then continued,

  “We strive for galactic peace and civilization. And the target you spoke of… is one of our brightest students. I believe your presence here—your mission—is tied to that hope for a better future.”

  For a moment, something flickered in Zero’s previously emotionless eyes. She lifted her head slightly and said, softly but firmly,

  “If that’s the purpose of the Academy… then I’m willing to stay.”

  Nagami smiled, visibly relieved. He reached into his coat and handed her a pale blue access chip that shimmered faintly.

  “In that case, I’ve arranged for you to be registered as a transfer student in his grade. This chip grants you access to his apartment. There happens to be an empty room—you may stay there.”

  Zero accepted the chip with a calm nod. “Understood.”

  She hopped off the bed lightly, bare feet touching the floor as she moved toward the door.

  Watching her quiet departure, Nagami let out a soft chuckle and thought to himself,

  “Looks like this Observer still has a lot to learn. Elian will have his hands full.”

  Back in his office, Nagami Kuro resumed handling the investigation and post-crisis tasks. After a while, his brows furrowed slightly, as if something had just occurred to him. He opened a terminal and initiated a call to the Galactic Academy of Sciences' chief liaison channel. A few seconds later, the screen lit up with the image of an elderly scholar dressed in a white research coat—Dr. Les Norveil, Director of the Department of Material Structure.

  "Ah, Director Nagami," the man nodded with a weary expression. "I suppose you're calling to ask about the analysis results of those two items?"

  Nagami leaned back in his chair and nodded lightly. "Yes. I've just returned from Central Prime a few days ago. I was planning to confirm the findings."

  Norveil let out a sigh. "We've done everything we could… but the results, I’m afraid, are not encouraging. The outer shells of those objects are completely impervious to our current technologies. We couldn’t even perform the most basic material analysis."

  "Impervious?" Nagami frowned. "Not even particle scans worked?"

  "Exactly. We even deployed our latest hyperspectral string-structure imagers, but regardless of the method, we couldn’t generate any viable detection models." Norveil paused for a moment, then added in a low tone, "At the quantum level, those items… simply aren’t composed of any known atoms or molecules."

  "So they’re made of some unknown kind of particle?" Nagami's frown deepened.

  "To be more precise—they seem to consist of a particle form that we can neither observe nor define," Norveil replied gravely. "This doesn’t just break the foundations of our existing galactic physical theories—it might point to a type of ‘non-material matter’... as if these things are higher-dimensional projections compressed into three-dimensional space."

  There was a brief silence.

  Norveil then added, "They're showing no signs of energy leakage, nor do they exhibit any threat characteristics… but we dare not tamper with them further. We've decided to return them as is."

  Nagami exhaled softly, his gaze deep and contemplative. "Thank you for your efforts... I had my suspicions, but your report confirms something I was beginning to believe."

  Norveil squinted slightly. "You mean…?"

  Nagami said slowly, "These objects may originate from a civilization with a technological level far beyond anything in our galaxy. For now, let's call it—The Observer Civilization."