To Eat the Predator

The white room filled up again with thirty kids—some slumped on the floor, others leaning against the walls, a few chatting more than before. Little clusters had started forming, and the awkwardness that used to hang in the air like morning fog was slowly peeling away, replaced by something sharper.

Not comfort.

Competition.

Then the door creaked open. Nothing dramatic, no booming entrance. Just... a door opening. But the person who walked in? Definitely not ordinary.

She strolled in like she owned the damn floor, boots hitting tile with lazy rhythm. Her long black hair was tied in a messy, half-assed bun that somehow made her look even more unapproachable. A pair of crooked half-moon glasses sat on the bridge of her nose, catching the sterile light. Her skin was tan—way too tan for this place—and it clashed beautifully against the pale kids and white walls.

Tall. Sharp. But disinterested. Blank expression that still somehow screamed, "Yeah, I know all the crap you've done."

A tiny earpiece clung to her ear. She didn't greet anyone. She was on a call. Or more accurately—cussing someone out, real casual.

"Jesus, don't be dumb and stupid at the same time," she barked into the mic as she strolled into the center of the room. "Quit hogging all of it like some bargain-crazy aunt at a beef sale. Leave some for the rest of us. And if shit blows up, don't drag my name into it."

Click.

She ended the call with a smile. Not friendly, not sweet—just pure, uncut sarcasm. Like the whole situation was her personal inside joke.

Her eyes scanned the room, sharp and detached. Sizing them up like fruit at a market—rotten, underripe, and the kind that's just begging to be sliced open.

"Yo."

She threw a lazy wave. "Name's Zero. Not 'cause I flunked school, but 'cause I like starting from scratch every time my experiments crap out." She grinned.

"Nemiros Division—R&D, baby. You'll meet me if your brain needs opening or if your body randomly grows claws where it really shouldn't."

Some kids swallowed hard. Others tried too hard to look unfazed. But all eyes were on her.

Zero strolled toward the long bench and plopped down like she was on break. Legs crossed, arms dangling.

"Today's not about showing off your powers. It's about seeing how well you stick together before I break you apart. I'll be watching. Might help, might laugh. If you're annoying... well. Not all trauma's fixable, right?"

Kael leaned toward Rivea, snickering. "Ha. I already love her." Rivea glanced sideways, violet pupils blinking slow. "She's cute. Like a knife dipped in glitter."

From a corner, Solen shook his head slowly. "You're all broken." Zero heard it. She just grinned wider and took off her glasses.

"Alright, kiddos. Show me what you got. Try not to bore the hell outta me." A few seconds of silence hung after Zero sat down.

Thirty weird-ass kids, each freaky in their own flavor, trying to process what the hell that savage intro was supposed to mean.

Rivea leaned against the wall like she was melting into it, violet pupils still faintly glowing. Kael let out a low whistle. Solen was already logging everything in his brain like some human USB stick. Noz still a walking question mark. Alyen smiling like she just won a lifetime supply of bread.

They were all thinking the same thing "What the hell are we supposed to do to not look like idiots?"

"Drein,"

Zero's voice sliced through the room, calm and curved like a blade just before the stab. "You sure you're in the right room, babe? This is the baby psycho bootcamp, not a damn skeleton audition."

Every head whipped toward Drein—the walking scarecrow, all bones and shadows. Hollow eyes, corpse posture, hands shaking not from fear... more like muscle memory.

Drein glanced at Zero, gave her this weird little sideways smile.

"I'm... just hungry."

Zero grinned like that was the most adorable threat she'd heard all day.

"Aw, precious. But if you're planning on snacking on one of 'em, maybe start with an organ that doesn't cost much, yeah? I need that kid's heart next week."

Kael chuckled, low and entertained. "I love the way she roasts. It's like... poetic violence." Rivea replied flat, "That's not roasting. That's dissection."

Zero stood up, walking slow to the center like she was about to announce a magic trick—except everyone here knew the trick might end in blood.

"Alright. Before y'all start flexin' your freaky shit, I wanna know you. One by one.

Not your powers. Not your background.

Your damage."

She pointed a finger, sharp and deliberate, straight at Drein. "You first, bones. What broke you? And don't feed me some cryptic poser crap—I can smell real trauma from a mile away."

Drein stood still for a second... then started talking. Slow. Strange. Way too calm for how messed up it was.

"I was buried alive once. But the last breath I took down there smelled sweeter than the air now. I climbed out, I think. But I'm still not sure if I lived... or if someone just forgot to bury me deeper."

Some kids instinctively stepped back.

Lucienne straightened up like her spine remembered discipline. Alyen still smiled—but her hands were shaking now, just a little.

Zero clapped once. Soft. Deadpan. "Love it. You're a freakin' gem. You'll vibe well with Vale—same 'please bury me again' energy."

Then she turned to the rest. "Alright, let's go. One by one. If you wanna survive this, show me your cracks. I wanna see who's the most broken in the bunch... and who'll be the most fun to shatter."

That grin spread wider—cruel and gleaming. "'Cause being messed up ain't the problem, sweethearts. The real red flag? Thinking you're not messed up at all." Rivea watched Zero out of the corner of her eye.

The woman stood like she owned the world, like everything around her was just a pet to keep in line. Relaxed, sarcastic, but not empty. Not the type to hide behind the scenes and play it safe. She wasn't afraid of kids who'd ripped their trainer's throat out. Hell, she even poked fun at Drein—the kid who, according to the rumors, could drink bone marrow like it was tea.

Funny.

Rivea knew a predator's vibe when she saw one. And this woman? She wasn't just a hunter. She'd been prey before. And came back with a bite that sent her enemy's insides to the ceiling.

"Zero, huh?" Kael whispered beside her, voice light but his eyes sharp. "Ever seen a Nemiros person come down and dirty before?"

Solen glanced over briefly. "First time." Rivea didn't answer. Her eyes still locked on Zero.

There was something in the way she looked at them—not sympathy, not some professional curiosity. It was more like... memory. Like she knew their wounds before they even opened their mouths.

"She's not your typical scientist." "She's not anyone's typical anything," Rivea muttered, more to herself.

Then Zero spoke again, this time to the kid with dark green hair sitting alone.

"You. The one who looks like you just crawled out of a bad 80s nightmare. You know why you're here?"

The kid froze, stammering. Zero smirked, eyes darting over him, taking it all in.

"Don't bother answering. I already know. You're silent because you're scared. And the good news? This place loves fear. They call it... latent potential."

Kael chuckled softly. "I want her to teach us. Every word she spits is like a bullet."

Rivea stayed quiet. Her hands rested in her lap, fingers slowly scraping her knee—an old habit from the past. Back when she sat on a throne made of skulls, creatures only dared approach for two reasons: to challenge... or to worship.

She wasn't sure which one Zero was here for.

But she knew one thing—anyone who could stand in front of thirty blood-soaked kids and still grin while poking fun... had a history. And history... was usually soaked in blood.

"She's not your average predator," Rivea whispered to Kael. "So what's she then?" "She's old meat. The kind that survived and came back to bite."

Kael turned to Rivea with a thin grin, the kind he only got when he found something exciting. "Let's figure it out... what's she been eating to get this messed up."

The room started off cold. But the second Zero opened her mouth to Lucienne, the atmosphere flipped like a royal banquet—only instead of fine food, the menu was full of insults and rotten reputations.

Zero looked Lucienne up and down, like she was sizing up some cheap wine in a fancy bottle.

"Lucienne, right?"

"Yeah," the girl shot back quick, crisp, all high and mighty. "From the Halcyra Innerveil family... the kind that can buy seven tiny countries and a virgin island."

"I—"

"But still can't buy the one thing that matters in here." Zero stopped. Her smirk crept up slowly, like an old wound reopening.

"Guts."

A half-choked laugh burst from the corner of the room—Kael, obviously. Lucienne tensed, her face still graceful, but the corners of her mouth twitched.

"Take a seat, Princess. Around here, blue blood only matters when it splashes against the walls."

Zero shifted her gaze to Rivea's team, like she was flipping the spotlight on them. "Team... 01, huh? Rivea, Solen, Kael, Alyen, Noz."

She walked closer, light on her feet, but every word felt like a tiny needle under the skin. "Rivea Kaelith."

Rivea lifted her head. Their gazes locked—two beings of different ages, but both with blood that knew how to survive.

Zero stared at her for a long beat. "My code name's Zero. Some folks say it's just a style thing. But do you know... why I chose it?"

Rivea stayed silent. The air around her started to stir faintly, like blood crawling under her nails, waking up.

"Because I know from zero. From the very beginning. Before the first drop of blood. Before your name even had a scream."

Kael frowned. Solen glanced at Rivea—then he realized it. The girl... was pissed. But not just pissed. This was cold fury. The kind that comes when you've been found out. And Dev'ra, the ancient blood, didn't like being found out.

"You—" Rivea's voice was low, way too low for regular kids to hear. But Zero caught it. "You know what?"

Zero didn't answer. She just grinned, a little—enough to light a spark in the air. "Don't worry, Dev," Zero whispered, almost inaudible. "We're all just shadows. And you? You're the one who made the first reflection."

Rivea almost stood up—claws starting to creep out from her fingers. But Kael touched her shoulder. "Not now."

And for the first time... Rivea held back not out of fear. But because she knew—an enemy who knew too much wasn't something you devoured right away. You hunted it slowly. And asked... when did you get the chance to peek at my blood?

Ten minutes.

Normally, that's enough time for these kids to decide whether they want a snack or a bathroom break. But now, that number's a razorblade hanging over their heads.

"Team leader pick," Zero said casually, her voice flat but slicing through the air like it was nothing. "Each team picks someone to lead. But not by you. The other teams pick. And you can't pick your own. Fair, right?"

No one said a word.

"You've got ten minutes. Think it through. Sometimes... a leader isn't the strongest one. It's the one who's easiest to pull on a leash."

A thin smile. Then, silence.

Zero took a step back. Sat in the corner. Motionless. Quiet. Her eyes were like hidden surveillance cams. But none of the kids really cared about her—everyone was too busy sizing each other up and plotting their next move.

Rivea crossed her arms, shooting anyone who dared look too long a glare sharp enough to make them rethink their life choices. Kael leaned back, lazily twirling a pencil between his fingers like he had all the time in the world. Alyen was still grinning, but this time there was something calculating behind that soft smile. Solen glanced at Noz, who... just sat there, head down.

"I'm not gonna be the leader," Kael suddenly said, voice light. "Too much hassle. Besides, if I lead, we'd probably just end up causing chaos for fun."

"How about you, Riv?" Alyen asked, voice low. Rivea shrugged. "I only eat what moves. Not into leading."

Solen raised an eyebrow. Noz... silent. But his fingers drummed lightly on his knee, a slow, constant rhythm. A sign... he was listening, but not speaking.

Lucienne sat up straight, eyes sharp, as if saying, If it's not me, then who else?

Noir yawned, eyes half-lidded. His hand was still half-dried with blood from an earlier wound. Lumière sat beneath his chair, as always, head resting against Lucienne's knee.

The twins, Gio and Vale? They sat close, one pinching the other's arm. The other winked twice. Their language? Not meant for anyone else to understand.

Teams 03-05 were also deep in their own silences. Whispering. Some staring each other down with distrust, while others were already primed to stab each other in the back the moment the vote came.

Time ticked on. But there were no clocks on the wall.

Zero? Still in the corner. Still silent. But her gaze? It cut deeper than any wall could. She didn't care who got picked. But she was noting... who was eyeing who, who was trying to speak, who kept quiet—and who was waiting for the knife.

Ten minutes left.

And when the buzzer sounded, those voices would carve out the first lines of war.