CROSS ZERO
Chapter 4: The God of Death
The room felt heavier after Zeke left.
Akira stood there, hands still trembling from the adrenaline, staring at the hoop where his shot had landed. His heart was still racing.
I made it.
I actually made it.
He turned and walked toward Kaoru, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, spinning a basketball on one finger like it was nothing.
"Thanks," Akira said quietly. "For that pass."
Kaoru glanced up at him, grinning. "I didn't truly pass to you, y'know. If Zeke had taken it and won, that would've been fine by me too." He shrugged. "But I got the best outcome—which was you winning."
Akira nodded slowly. "I see."
Kaoru's grin faded slightly. His eyes sharpened.
"When you slowed down," he said, "when you let Zeke catch up… I felt something from you."
Akira blinked. "Huh? What do you mean?"
Kaoru stood, still holding the ball, and tapped his chest.
"You know… I have something in me," he said. "I have a beast. A beast that tells me what to do. Where to go. It's my friend."
He pointed at Akira.
"When you slowed down, my beast recognized yours."
Akira stared at him, completely lost.
Damn. This guy is crazy.
But then he thought about the voice. The presence. The purple figure that had appeared beside him at the pier.
But maybe… he isn't wrong.
Before Akira could respond, the walls flickered.
The screen materialized again.
Vox's mask filled the display.
Vox's Announcement
"Now," Vox said calmly, "each room has been reduced to five members. Let's move on."
The screen shifted, displaying four names in bold white text:
TEAM ALPHA
TEAM BETA
TEAM GAMMA
TEAM OMEGA
"You have been sorted into four teams," Vox continued. "Each team has two lives. You will play against each other. The team that survives with both lives intact will advance to the next stage."
He paused.
"The teams that lose both lives… will be eliminated."
Murmurs rippled through the room.
"However," Vox said, "there is a catch."
The screen shifted again, displaying a new rule:
TOP PERFORMER FROM ELIMINATED TEAMS WILL BE SPARED.
"The highest-performing player from each eliminated team will be given a second chance," Vox explained. "Additionally, surviving teams will receive upgraded accommodations—better meals, more comfortable beds, enhanced training equipment."
Akira's stomach tightened.
So even if we lose… one person can survive.
But only one.
The screen displayed their team assignment:
TEAM OMEGA
"Your first opponent," Vox said, "is Team Alpha."
The screen went dark.
Team Omega
Suno crossed his arms, smirking. "Alright, normies. We don't have time for complex strategies. Just play. We'll override them with individual skill."
Mitsuki, leaning against the wall, muttered dryly, "What a full-blown plan. We'll surely win."
Suno turned to glare at him. "Idiot. Don't fuck with me. Do you have any better ideas, Silent Stuff?"
Mitsuki didn't respond. He just looked away, expression unreadable.
Akira stepped forward. "We only have two lives. It's best if we aim to win and survive—together."
Taiga nodded firmly. "We play fair. We play smart."
Kaoru yawned, stretching lazily. "When are they bringing our meals? I'm hungry."
Akira stared at them.
This is chaotic.
But we'll have to make it work.
Vox's Control Room
The observation room was dark, lit only by the glow of dozens of monitors displaying every angle of the facility. Vox sat in a high-backed chair, fingers steepled, watching the screens intently.
Mika Kuronami walked over, holding a glass of water. She set it down beside him.
"There are a lot of talents in this place," she said.
Vox didn't look away from the screens. "Yes. A lot of trash talents. Their egos are pitiful."
He leaned back slightly.
"But I'll mold them," he said. "Despair will mold them."
Mika raised an eyebrow. "Damn. You sound scary when you talk."
Vox tilted his head. "I'm not scary."
A pause.
"…Maybe I am."
Mika said nothing. She just watched the screens, her sharp eyes tracking the movements of the candidates below.
One screen, in particular, held her attention.
Candidate #79: Akira Tenma.
The Main Court
The doors to the main game court slid open with a heavy clang.
Team Omega stepped out onto the polished hardwood floor. The space was massive—stadium-sized, with towering walls and bright overhead lights that cast everything in stark, unforgiving clarity.
Akira's heart pounded.
This is it.
A minute later, the opposite doors opened.
And Team Alpha walked in.
The air immediately felt heavier.
Their presence was oppressive—each player moved with confidence, with purpose, with the kind of energy that said we've already won.
Akira swallowed hard.
It's time.
Tip-Off
The referee—a robotic voice from the speakers—announced:
"Match begins in 10 seconds."
Taiga stepped forward for the tip-off. Across from him stood a tall, muscular player from Team Alpha, expression cold and focused.
"3… 2… 1… BEGIN."
The ball was thrown into the air.
Taiga launched himself upward, pure strength driving him higher than his opponent. He slapped the ball backward—
—and Akira grabbed it.
"Go!" Taiga shouted.
Akira pivoted and threw a quick pass to Mitsuki, who caught it cleanly and immediately passed it back.
"Linking up!" Akira called. "We'll—"
Suddenly, Suno darted in from the side, reaching for the ball.
"If I score and prove I'm the best," Suno muttered, "I'll qualify anyway!"
Taiga lunged in too, trying to intercept.
"What?!" Akira shouted. "We're supposed to be a team—"
A player from Team Alpha crashed into the scramble, reaching for the ball.
And then it was chaos.
All five players from both teams swarmed the ball, shoving, grabbing, fighting for possession like animals.
Akira stumbled back, breathing hard.
What is this?
This isn't basketball.
This is… zero.
A zero stage where no plays are made. No structure. No strategy.
We need to—
Suddenly, one of the players from Team Alpha ripped the ball free.
He turned and drove forward.
And everything stopped.
Garachi Asahi
The player moved with unnerving pressure.
Not fast. Not explosive.
Just heavy.
Like gravity itself bent around him.
Akira's eyes widened.
Who… who is this guy?
Taiga lunged to block him.
The player didn't even slow down. He shifted his body slightly, and Taiga was left grasping at air.
Kaoru tried next, cutting off the angle.
The player moved through him like he wasn't even there.
Suno dove in desperately—
—and was left sprawled on the floor.
"Trash," the player muttered.
Akira's legs moved on instinct. He sprinted forward, positioning himself between the player and the hoop.
I have to stop him.
I have to—
The player leapt.
Not high. Not flashy.
But with force.
He rose above Akira, ball gripped in one hand, and slammed it through the hoop with a sound like thunder.
BOOM.
Akira stumbled backward, crashing to the floor.
The player landed in front of him, towering over him.
And then—
His aura shifted.
Dark energy swirled around him, coiling and twisting, until it formed the shape of a skeleton—a jagged, broken silhouette of death itself.
The player spread his arms wide, looking down at his own team.
"Follow me," he said, voice cold and commanding, "as your God."
Silence.
And then, one by one, the players from Team Alpha began to cheer.
"YEAH!"
"WE'LL FOLLOW YOU!"
"LET'S GO!"
The name appeared above the player's head in glowing red text:
GARACHI ASAHI — THE GOD OF DEATH
Akira lay on the floor, staring up at him, chest heaving.
This guy…
With one play alone…
He turned Zero into One.
END OF CHAPTER 4
Next: Chapter 5 — Despair Rising