The Grand Hall was a cathedral of light, but to me, it felt like an executioner's block. The Imperial Honor Guard stood at attention, their silver-storm mana creating a low-frequency hum that vibrated in my teeth.
Despite the tension, the Valerius family didn't stand apart. Even now, in the face of a trial, they stood in a formation that suggested a fortress. Raiden was the vanguard, his massive frame shielding the path to the dais. Elara was the heart, her silver-light mana unconsciously reaching out toward me, trying to "tether" my flickering presence to her own. In their world, the family takes care of its own—even if "taking care" of a broken member sometimes meant a merciful end.
"The Eye is ready," High Priest Voss announced.
He stepped forward, holding the staff. The Eye of Truth wasn't just a crystal; it was a recording device linked to the Imperial Archives. Whatever it saw today would be the permanent, legal record of my existence. It didn't search for "unknown" powers—it searched for the vibration of Magic.
"If there is mana in your veins, the Eye will sing," the Priest said. "If there is Corruption, it will scream. If there is nothing..."
He didn't finish the sentence. "Nothing" was the worst fate for a Valerius.
I knelt. The Fragility Draught made my skin feel paper-thin. I could feel Elara's mana brushing against my shoulder, a silent, desperate plea for me to show something.
"Deep breath," I told the Void-Core. "Give them the absolute zero they're looking for."
The High Priest lowered the staff. The Eye touched my forehead.
A pillar of white light erupted, connecting the staff to the ceiling. Above us, the massive Recording Mirror flickered to life, displaying the data for the Princess and the Faculty to see.
RECORDING COMMENCED: SUBJECT CASSIAN VALERIUS
Mana Signature: 0 (NULL)
Vein Integrity: CRITICAL FAILURE
Resonance Grade: F-
Status: EXHAUSTED / NON-MAGICAL
The Hall went deathly silent.
The Eye of Truth was screaming, but not with a sound of alarm. It was the high-pitched whistle of a vacuum. The projection showed my body as a grey, hollowed-out map. The Void-Skin I had layered over my surface acted as a perfect insulator; it didn't look like I was hiding magic—it looked like the magic had been ripped out of me by force, leaving behind only "scar tissue" and empty space.
"It's confirmed," the High Priest whispered, looking at the Mirror. "There is no magic left in him. The Rift didn't corrupt him... it emptied him."
Raiden's claymore, which had been vibrating with the intent to kill, went still. He looked down at me, and for the first time, the hatred in his eyes was replaced by a heavy, suffocating pity. To a Valerius, being a monster is a threat, but being a "Null" is a tragedy that demands protection.
"He's a ghost," Raiden rumbled, his voice thick with a strange, dark grief. He stepped forward and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder—not to crush me, but to steady me. "Father was wrong. He isn't a stain. He's a casualty."
On the balcony, Elara collapsed into her seat, her silver mana retreating as she sobbed into her hands. She had spent weeks suspecting me of being a liar, but the Eye of Truth—the one thing that cannot be fooled by mortal hands—had just told her that her twin was truly, irrevocably broken.
"The record is sealed," Princess Aurelia declared from the throne. Her golden eyes drifted over my slumped form. "Cassian Valerius is no longer a candidate for the Hero's Mantle. He is a ward of the Crown and the Valerius House. Let him be moved to the recovery wing."
As the healers moved in, Raiden pushed them aside, picking me up himself. I played the part perfectly, my head lolling against his armored chest, my breathing shallow and wheezing.
"I've got you, little brother," Raiden muttered, his voice barely audible over the clanking of his armor. "No one will touch you now. You've suffered enough for the name."
He carried me out of the Hall, the "Perfect Twin" and the "Executioner" now united in their mourning for the brother they thought they had lost.
Inside my mind, I watched the shadows of the Hall recede. The lie was perfect. I was now the most protected person in the Academy—shielded by the pity of a Princess, the guilt of a sister, and the duty of a brother who thought I was a walking corpse.
The Eye of Truth had recorded a "Zero."
They didn't realize that in the language of the Void, Zero isn't the absence of power. It's the mouth that eats the numbers.