Charles rubbed his temples, still trying to process everything that had been dumped on him. His head throbbed, his nerves were shot, and yet, deep down, he knew he wasn't going to get any satisfying answers right away.
After a long, heavy silence, he finally let out a frustrated sigh. "…Fine. Whatever. I'll accept it—for now."
His tone was sharp, his annoyance obvious, but it was the closest thing to surrender he could give.
The woman smirked faintly at his irritation, as if amused by his stubbornness. She straightened up, crossing her arms. "About time. I was starting to think you'd never catch on."
For the first time since they met, she offered something resembling an introduction. "My name's Mimosa. Remember it. You're going to be hearing it a lot."
Charles blinked, the unusual name cutting through the fog in his mind. "…Mimosa?"
"Yeah," she replied flatly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Don't laugh. I hate it too."
Before he could comment, her voice dropped, taking on a colder, heavier tone. "And since you've stumbled into this mess, you deserve to know who's already after you. The men in suits—the ones with the label on their jackets? A.Z.O."
The letters echoed in Charles's mind, the memory of that suited man at his door flashing back with frightening clarity.
Mimosa's eyes narrowed. "It stands for Anti-Zenith Organization. Their goal is simple: wipe out every Zenith user they can find. And if they can't? They harvest us."
Charles's stomach dropped. "Harvest…?"
Her jaw tightened, anger flickering in her eyes. "They kill Zenith users, then strip their corpses for what's left. A body with a Zenith Gene still inside can be turned into a kind of… battery. The energy inside it can be extracted, stored, and used to power their twisted technology. Machines, weapons, tools—you name it. They don't want to be Zeniths themselves. They see us as unstable, dangerous… disposable."
The words hit Charles like a cold knife in the gut. His chest felt tight, his fists clenched without realizing it.
Mimosa stepped closer, her expression deadly serious. "That's why they came for you, Charles. To them, you're nothing more than fuel. And if you don't figure out what your Zenith is… you're as good as dead."
Her words hung in the air like a guillotine, leaving Charles pale and silent.
Behind her, Loid tilted his masked head ever so slightly, the permanent grin carved into his mask watching Charles squirm—like a predator savoring the fear of its prey.
Mimosa exhaled sharply, then turned her gaze toward the masked figure standing silently in the corner. She raised a finger and pointed directly at Charles.
"Loid. Use Appraiser on him."
Charles frowned, his confusion only growing. "Appraiser? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Mimosa folded her arms, her voice calm but laced with impatience. "Some Zenith users don't just awaken their main ability. Sometimes, alongside their Zenith, they develop something extra—a trait. Think of it as a side ability. Not as powerful as a Zenith, but still unique, and often just as important."
She tilted her head toward Loid, who stood unmoving, the permanent grin of his mask glowing faintly under the light. "His trait is Appraiser. With it, he can identify another person's Zenith Word simply by looking at them. No tricks. No devices. Just a stare straight into your soul."
Charles's throat went dry. Zenith Word… my soul…?
Before he could question further, Loid stepped forward, each footstep heavy, deliberate. The air seemed to thicken around him, and Charles felt his back press against the wall.
The masked man stopped just inches away, tilting his head slightly. Then… he stared.
No words. No movement. Just silence.
Charles shivered. The longer Loid stared, the more it felt like he was being peeled open layer by layer, like every secret he'd ever buried was being dragged to the surface. His pulse hammered in his ears.
What is this guy doing to me? Why does it feel like he's tearing me apart just by looking?
And then—just as suddenly—it ended.
Loid stepped back, pulled out his phone, and typed swiftly with one hand. The faint robotic voice from his text-to-speech app filled the room with a single word:
"Bubble."
The sound echoed against the walls like an insult.
Charles blinked. "…Bubble?"
Mimosa raised an eyebrow. "…Bubble." Even her normally sharp expression softened into confusion.
Loid tilted his head again, slipping his phone back into his coat as if nothing more needed to be said.
Charles's voice broke as he pointed at himself. "That's it? That's supposed to be my… Zenith? Bubble?! What the hell am I supposed to do with something like that?!"
Mimosa pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "Calm down. Appraiser can only reveal the word. It doesn't tell us what it means, or what the ability tied to it actually does. Until you awaken it yourself and put it into action, that word is as useless to us as it is to you."
Charles clenched his fists, his chest burning with frustration. "Bubble… seriously? I'm supposed to fight for my life with that?!"
Loid stood silently, the painted grin of his mask never changing, though somehow Charles felt as if the man was mocking him in the quiet.
Mimosa's gaze hardened again, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Don't underestimate it. Zenith Words are tied to the soul. Even the dumbest-sounding ones can hold terrifying power. You'd better pray yours isn't a joke, Charles Kepler—because A.Z.O. won't wait for you to figure it out."
Loid's masked face tilted ever so slightly as Charles's frustration boiled over. For a long moment, the room was silent—then, without a word, Loid slid his phone from his coat pocket. His fingers tapped across the screen with precise, mechanical motions.
A soft beep followed, and the robotic text-to-speech voice filled the air.
"Charles. The way a Zenith Word works depends entirely on the user's interpretation. Everyone begins with a single interpretation of their Word… but more can be unlocked through experience and growth."
Charles blinked, taken aback. "Interpretation? What's that supposed to mean?"
Mimosa leaned back against the wall, folding her arms. "It means exactly what it sounds like. Your Zenith Word isn't a straightforward command. It's a concept—a piece of your soul given form. How you understand it will shape the abilities it gives you. Two people with the same Word might not even have the same powers. It all comes down to how they interpret it."
Charles stared down at his hands, the word Bubble still echoing in his head. So… it could mean anything?
Loid's phone beeped again, and the voice continued:
"Unlocking additional interpretations requires effort. Training. Pressure. Survival. Sometimes even near-death experiences. The more you challenge your limits, the more your Zenith Word will reveal to you."
Charles swallowed hard. "So… if I can't figure out what 'Bubble' means, I'm screwed?"
Mimosa pushed herself off the wall, her tone sharp but not unkind. "Pretty much. But don't panic yet. You've got options. Loid's right—you need to understand your Word. But before that, you need the basics."
She walked toward him, her eyes locking onto his with the intensity of a drill instructor.
"Which brings us to something every Zenith user has to master: Zenith Reinforcement."
Charles frowned. "Zenith… Reinforcement?"
Mimosa smirked. "Think of it like training wheels. Even if you don't know what your Word does yet, Zenith Energy can still strengthen your body, your reflexes, your endurance. It's the foundation of every Zenith user. Learn it, and you won't die the first time someone throws a punch your way."
She jabbed a finger into his chest. "And trust me—you'll need it. Because if A.Z.O. finds you again before you figure this out? You won't get a second chance."
Loid tucked his phone away, his mask's permanent grin watching silently. The weight of their words pressed down on Charles like chains.
Interpretation… Reinforcement… Bubble…
For the first time since it began, Charles realized: this wasn't just some nightmare he could wake up from. This was his reality now.