I. The Heavy World and the "Soren" Manual
The gravity of the planet Gorgoroth did not ask for permission; it crushed. At triple the density of his home universe, the atmosphere was a thick, suffocating soup of Primal Mana a predatory, radioactive energy that turned the emerald sky into a shifting sheet of green glass and made the air taste like raw copper. Ordinary Stones would have fractured under the sheer atmospheric weight within seconds.
But Null Asura didn't even feel the pressure.
He stood in the center of the massive, smoking crater his descent had carved into the obsidian wasteland. His new, middle-aged body was tall, rugged, and built of dense, unyielding mass. His raven-black hair drifted slightly in the toxic wind, and beneath the white blindfold sunken into his temples, his cloud-white irises remained completely still.
Inside his skull, the stillness was absolute. The trading of his emotions had left his consciousness completely hollowed out an absolute zero on the emotional spectrum. He felt no anger toward the King, no sorrow for his exile, and no fear of this alien world.
"Local sapient signatures detected three hundred meters north," the Void Master's crystalline, emotionless voice scrolled across his mind. "Current emotional drive: Absent. Social friction probability: 94.2% if approached with zero-emotions protocol."
Null stood silent for a fraction of a second. The Void Master was right. To navigate a foreign universe packed with monsters and feudal systems, raw slaughter created too much unnecessary friction. He needed a guide. He needed cooperation.
Silently, Null reached into the deep, archived databanks of his own mind, pulling up the memories of the boy he used to be before the cave the data of Soren Asura. He analyzed how the boy used to smile, how he adjusted his tone to make people feel safe, and how he projected warmth.
Null tested a facial muscle. He forced the corners of his rugged, mature mouth to curve upward into a calm, reassuring smile. It felt entirely hollow like a puppeteer pulling leather strings on a wooden doll but to the outside eye, it looked perfectly human.
II. Zero-Friction Execution
The sound of clicking chitin shattered the silence of the wasteland.
The massive kinetic impact of his landing had drawn the local predators. From the jagged obsidian ridges, a pack of Grave-Stalkers
swarmed into the crater. They were beasts the size of minivans, covered in interlocking emerald-veined armor plating with rows of blinking yellow eyes and scythe-like front legs. Leading them was a "Baron-Class" alpha, its chest swollen with a green core that vibrated violently, releasing a high-frequency psychic screech meant to paralyze the nervous system of its prey.
Null didn't take a combat stance. He didn't even drop his manufactured smile.
He walked forward calmly, his boots crunching softly on the shattered glass of the crater floor.
"Target core frequency identified," the Void Master calculated instantly. "Structural flaw located in the lower thoracic plate. Required output to neutralize: 0.04%."
As the alpha leaped through the air, its jaws dripping with acidic saliva, Null simply walked past it. He didn't raise his voice, and he didn't swing a fist. He merely raised his right hand
the one laced with pulsing white veins
and casually snapped his fingers.
A microscopic, high-speed vibration from the Flashwhip mechanic translated directly through the air molecules. The shockwave bypassed the thick armor entirely, striking the structural flaw.
SNAP.
A muffled pop echoed. Mid-air, the alpha's internal organs and core instantly collapsed inward, imploding into a silent, liquid paste. The surrounding pack members froze as the identical frequency rippled through the air, vibrating their chest plates until they, too, dropped dead on the spot without a single drop of blood being spilled outwardly.
The green monster cores shattered, releasing a misty green vapor. Null's internal Stone, acting as a pressurized vacuum under the Void Master's influence, drank the mist instantly, decoding the native mana structure of Gorgoroth in seconds.
III. The Scavenged Convoy
Three hundred meters away, crouched behind a ridge of jagged volcanic rock, a small convoy of human survivors stared in absolute horror.
They were thin, scarred, and wore crude armor pieced together from monster bone. They carried heavy stone-infused spears, their faces pale under the green sky. They had been fleeing the Grave-Stalkers, fully expecting to be cornered and slaughtered. Instead, they had just watched a middle-aged man in a strange coat walk through a Baron-class pack and delete them with a finger snap.
As Null approached the ridge, his white eyes hidden beneath the blindfold, the leader of the convoy a battle-worn woman named Vira dropped her bone spear. Her hands shook violently. In a world where humans were nothing but livestock, a humanoid figure with that level of power was usually a high-ranking Beast King in disguise.
"Kill us quickly," Vira rasped, closing her eyes and bracing for the end. "Don't play with your food."
Null stopped. He initiated the "Soren" protocol.
He softened his deep, raspy voice, infusing it with a gentle, melodic cadence that perfectly mimicked genuine empathy. He extended a large, calloused hand toward her, keeping his manufactured smile flawlessly in place.
"I'm not here to hurt you," Null said softly. "Are you and your people alright?"
Vira opened her eyes, staring at his outstretched hand. The warmth in his voice was a stark contrast to the terrifying, blank white eyes behind the cloth, but to a group of desperate, traumatized survivors, it sounded like a miracle.
"You're... a human?" Vira whispered, her voice cracking as tears welled in her eyes. She reached up, grabbing his hand. "A Lord... a human Lord has actually descended..."
Behind her, the survivors fell to their knees, weeping with profound relief. They believed a savior had finally arrived to answer their prayers. Null looked at their crying faces, his mind completely flat. He felt absolutely nothing for their suffering. Their tears were just data points. But he kept the smile on his face, nodding sympathetically as he pulled Vira to her feet.
IV. The Equation of the Star-Anchor
Null walked with the convoy as they began the slow trek back toward their hidden underground refuge. To the survivors, he was an attentive, noble guardian, listening to Vira's explanations of their world with gentle nods and a focused expression.
Internally, he was simply compiling a database.
"This entire continent is the domain of the "Emerald Emperor," Vira explained, her hands tightly gripping her scavenged spear as she walked beside him. "He is a primordial, multi-headed Draconic Beast King. For a thousand years, his children have hunted us like cattle. No human settlement can rise because the moment we grow too large, he burns us to ash."
"A dragon," Null repeated, his deep voice smooth, feigning a tone of righteous concern. "And where does this Emperor reside?"
"The Floating Maw," Vira said, pointing toward the distant horizon where a massive, jagged mountain of green stone levitated silently above the clouds. "But you cannot catch him, Lord Null. His fortress moves. The throne room is built around the Star-Anchor
a legendary cosmic stone that fell from the emerald sky before time began. It allows his fortress to warp across dimensions and territories instantly."
Inside Null's mind, a bright red ping flared.
"Analysis complete," the Void Master reported coldly. "The Star-Anchor possesses a dense, inter-dimensional mass. If harvested and channeled through your current Void-pumped core, the probability of tearing a localized rift back to our primary universe is 87.4%."
'That's the ticket,' Null thought back.
He stopped walking, looking up at the levitating green fortress in the distance. He turned back to Vira and the ragged, hopeful survivors who were looking up at him like he was a god sent to liberate their world from a millennium of tyranny.
Null Asura smiled warmly at them, his voice rich with a comforting, heroic promise.
"Don't worry anymore," Null said, his tone perfectly mimicking the selflessness of the brother Asura had once protected. "I will go to the Floating Maw. I will handle the Emerald Emperor myself."
"Thank you, Lord Null... thank you!" Vira choked out, bowing her head in deep reverence.
Null turned his blindfolded face back toward the floating mountain, his smile remaining perfectly fixed on his face while his detached mind ran the cold math. He didn't care about their freedom. He didn't care about the thousands of humans being eaten across the planet. The Emerald Emperor was just an obstacle in a simple equation, and the Star-Anchor was the prize.
He would use these humans to guide him straight to the dragon's throat, rip the cosmic stone out of its chest, and find hs way back to the King of Stones.
The stage for KILL THE KING: RE was set, and Null Asura was ready to play the hero until the board was cleared.