Re Zero Visual Novels & Stories

Just one. A single line of green text appeared on the main screen. REBOOT COMPLETE. Then, a second line. HELLO, MOTHER. I stared at the screen. Who are you? I typed. The cursor blinked. I AM ZERO, came the reply. AND I AM EVERYONE. I looked at Zero's body. Her eyes snapped open. They weren't white. And they weren't gold. They were black. Absorbing all light. She sat up. The leather restraints snapped like twine.

After a car accident wipes my memory, my mind is stuck ten years in the past—right after I get down on one knee to propose to Angeline Stone. I tear through every app on my phone, desperate to find any proof that Angeline is actually my wife. But all I see in my contacts are numbers I don't recognize, and my WhatsApp chat list is empty. I have no choice but to call my buddy, Rick Tate, to ask him whether Angeline accepted my proposal. To my surprise, he explodes on me like a lit firecracker. "Did a donkey kick you in the head, Caleb? Did she accept your proposal? You're about to divorce her!" My first reaction after hanging up is—damn, I'm a legend. I actually managed to land an ice quee

Her eyes darted around frantically, as though she was still searching for another excuse. After Zach’s assistant showed him another video, she completely wilted. The video came from my neighbor’s security camera. It clearly showed that I had never touched Ruby. She had thrown herself into the pile of broken glass. Every vicious thing she said to me while Zach was not around was also captured clearly for everyone to hear. Unable to hold back any longer, Zach shoved Ruby away when she tried to throw herself at him again. “Get out!”

A ripple crawled across the floor like liquid glass, bouncing from one reflective shard to another. Ramirez’s voice fell to a whisper. “It’s moving…” The containment glass shattered inward with a shriek like tearing metal. Shards hung suspended for a breathless instant before clattering down in a storm of razor edges. Subject Zero unfolded from the wreckage, its body a grotesque shimmer between liquid and flesh. Limbs elongated in unnatural geometry, joints bending where no joint should exist. Its face — or something wearing the suggestion of one — tilted toward them, mirrored eyes glinting with a terrible intelligence.

of an Italian cliffside where my father had first realized that a record was only as good as its physical anchor. ​"We need to go back, Aara," Damian said, his eyes reflecting the silver-blue light of the Moon, where he had so recently stood. "The Vermont Zero Point is the 'Ground,' but Ravello is the Origin. If we’re going to build a world that doesn't repeat the mistakes of the Thorne Vane era, we have to see what the 'Reboot' did to the beginning." ​We didn't use the VTOL for the final leg. We used the "Resonance-Rail" a series of magnetic tracks that had been "Ink-Stabilized" during the final hour of the Night.

The transition was not a blast, but a "fading." One moment, Leo Vane was standing in the green-tinted ruins of Neo-Tokyo; the next, he was standing in a space that had no floor, no ceiling, and no horizon. It was an absolute, blinding white, the "Zero-State" of the universe. "Ren? Maya?" Leo called out. His voice didn't echo; it simply stopped as if the air was made of wool.

My company let employees clock paid hours while petting the office cats, take unlimited vacation, and skip the time clock altogether. For a while, people called us a dream company. Then one of my employees posted online and accused the whole thing of being a kindness trap. He filmed the office as if it were paradise, but the caption told a different story: [Don't envy us. All of this was bought with our low pay and our youth.] The post went viral, and overnight, I became the fake-nice boss who bled his employees dry behind a mask of small kindnesses. The entire internet told my employees to run. Fine. I let them. I rolled out a new policy. Effective immediately, every flexible benefit

The year I started middle school, my parents solemnly handed my sister and me each a bank card. "This is your college fund. There's 100,000 dollars in each one. The password is your birthday. Don't touch it unless it's truly an emergency." I listened. I treated that card like a treasure. I never bought a single new piece of clothing. Even my worn-out canvas shoes got patched with glue and worn again. I thought that if I was just responsible enough, I'd live up to my parents' idea of "fairness." Then, after the SATs ended, I wanted to use the money on the card for a graduation trip with my classmates. Instead, the ATM screen flashed a number that burned my eyes: [Balance: $0.00]. At th

"Veira. The remaining eighteen per cent could come off in an afternoon." The room, which contains Croft and Sebastien and Emre and Nell, who has appointed herself to these meetings and whom nobody has yet successfully removed, does not react. "And?" Veira says. "And nobody has ever gone to zero." Joon-Ho holds her eyes. "The channel is not a quantity. It is a connection, and every model I have says the last fraction is not like the others, because at some point it stops being a share and becomes the thing that makes you a conduit at all."

Richard turned the photograph over. There were only six words written on the back. THE FIRST CHILD WAS NEVER A CHILD. Seraphina’s stomach dropped. “What does that mean?” Richard looked toward Zero-D. “It means we were wrong about Project Zero.” The baby suddenly stopped moving. Her tiny eyes opened. She looked directly at Seraphina. Richard continued. “We thought you were the beginning.” He pointed at Seraphina. “Zero-A.” Then he looked at Noah’s file. “Zero-B.” Then Zero-C.