Zero With A Line Through It Novels & Stories

He had drawn something. It was a circle with a line through it—the symbol of the High Code of the Silverfangs. But he had drawn it backward.

What was written on them wasn't medicine names. Numbers. Names. All crossed out. Ink faded to dead brown. 78.3%. 82.1%. 76.9%. 91.4%. The names varied. Some Omega. Some Beta. Some just code, nothing but letters and digits. Every single one struck through. The force of the lines had bitten into the wood, some of the paper punctured clean through. The last sign's ink was still wet. 99.7%. Name: blank. A shiver shuddered through my scent gland.

It wasn't a symbol of a closed system. "What's that?" Meilin asked. Leo looked at the circle, then at the fire, then at the horizon where the first real lights of a rebuilding city were beginning to twinkle. "It's a 'Zero'," Leo said with a faint, witty smile. "But I think... I think I'm going to turn it into a 'One'." He drew a single line through the circle. The story of the Project Renaissance had ended. The story of Humanity 2.0 had just begun.

“I’m dying.” “What the fuck?” The tone in Minus’s voice immediately shifted from anger to concern. I gasped, my hand reflexively covering my mouth. “I have CRC.” “What the hell is that?” Minus asked with a slight drawl. Evidence of his time spent in Savannah. “Jesus, Minus, you sound like a goddamned hillbilly,” Cutter said with a chuckle. “Colorectal cancer,” Warthog sang out, in a mock country singer voice, to a cheery tune that did not fit the lyrics.

“We do i‍t yo⁠ur way.” He w‍alked over to t‍he whiteboard, picked up a marker, a‌nd dre‍w a large, definit‍ive ci⁠rcle around‌ the word BA‍IT. It felt lik⁠e sig‍ning a death warrant. ⁠

"CATEGORY ZERO APPLIES ONLY TO THE FOUNDATIONAL SUBSTRATE." "I am the foundational silence. Without me, the choir is just noise." The Auditor paused. Its spectacles cycled through seventeen calculation modes. "CATEGORY ZERO-POINT-FIVE. DESIGNATION: FOUNDATIONAL INTERVAL. CLASSIFICATION: ESSENTIAL BUT EASILY OVERLOOKED." "Story of my life," the Hollowsmith murmured. The compass settled into true north with the absolute, final, complete warmth of a device that had found the last piece of a puzzle it had been solving since the moment of its creation.

And that was wrong, because first wolves don’t freeze for nothing. My phone buzzed again. Not Zevran. Unknown number. Not anyone from the network or Isara. Not anyone who'd ever contacted me before. One line. No words. Just a symbol. A circle. No line through it. Complete. I stared at the screen. Rhydian looked over my shoulder, went still, like he does when something doesn’t fit any category. "The network used a circle with a line," I said. "Erasure," Malek murmured.

I took a pen and crossed a line through Cassius' name. Eighteen left.

Noah made a show of trying to divide 130 by 0 on his fingers, “…infinitely more people than you, yet are not considered dangerous, then why should you be considered dangerous?” Astar Levi couldn’t understand just when, how, and where the suffocating gloom within his chest had disappeared to, but right now, the only thing he felt was a ticklish warmth. So cozy, so gentle, like a butterfly kiss. Unbeknownst to him, the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, “There is just one of me, but who knows how many deer.” “That’s true,” Noah nodded, “But 0 multiplied by the number of deer is still 0, ah!”

The two children race to pick up, dot, sometimes with love and affection, feed each other, and moreover the plate flies. The two children sat on his brother Iric's lap. The one on the left, the one on the right. As obedient as the good children of the family. Iris is also extremely generous, there’s a delicious dish, he will feed Iric a piece. After eating, no one left the mat. Continue fighting with the remaining dishes. At this time, Plum made a video call from Zalo to her mother back home. Report the situation here. But one is mute, one is pretending to be mute, who speaks.