Unwritten Mythos

The tension in the room thickened as the directors exchanged uneasy glances. The mysterious voice on the phone, known only as Zero, had dropped an enigma that none of them were prepared for. Mithril—an ancient, fantastical metal pulled straight out of myths—was now sitting right in front of them in the real world.

One of the directors leaned in, eyeing the silvery block glinting ominously under the harsh light. "What suggestion?" he asked again, voice edged with both skepticism and curiosity.

A hoarse chuckle echoed from the phone. "Mithril," Zero rasped. The word hung in the air like a spell.

What thing? Confusion rippled through the room. Mithril, to the majority of the GPA's senior officials, was nothing more than a relic of fantasy tales.

One of the more seasoned directors, however, suddenly snapped his fingers. "Ah! Mithril. I remember now. It's that metal from... fantasy films and stories." His tone bordered on disbelief, as though reluctant to entertain the notion that such a thing could exist.

The official holding the phone frowned, clearly unimpressed. "So? What does this have to do with 008?"

Zero's voice crackled through the line again, unphased. "008 controls blood by manipulating the bioelectric fields in her surroundings. Her body releases a unique pheromone that can generate this field, allowing her to reverse blood flow or cause veins to burst. It's all about control. But Mithril—"

The directors leaned in closer, their skepticism beginning to wane.

"—Mithril interferes with magnetic fields. If you wear a piece of it, 008's ability to manipulate your blood will be severely weakened. You'll be immune to her deadly control."

There was a long pause as the room absorbed this.

One director smirked, tapping the table lightly with his fingers. "Assuming you're right, where do we find this so-called Mithril? Last I checked, we don't live in a fantasy novel. It's fictional."

On the other end of the line, Zero let out a faint, knowing laugh. "I've already sent someone to deliver a piece. In fact," he said with cool confidence, "he should be there now."

As if summoned by his words, a knock echoed from the heavy doors of the conference room.

Dong dong dong.

The silence was immediate, as all eyes turned toward the entrance. The atmosphere thickened as a woman in a crisp uniform entered the room, bowing slightly. "There's someone here, claiming to be a Kitsune B-level employee. He says he has something for the directors."

Murmurs flickered around the room before the head of the meeting nodded sharply. "Bring him in."

Moments later, a soldier in a dark blue combat uniform strode in, carrying a briefcase. He moved with disciplined precision, bowing respectfully to the gathered directors before setting the case on the table.

All eyes were fixed on the briefcase as the soldier keyed in a code. With a soft click, the case opened, revealing a gleaming block inside—a metal that shimmered with an otherworldly glow. Its silvery surface seemed to pulse under the harsh lights, and a faint, unfamiliar scent wafted into the room.

"This is Mithril?" one of the directors asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he stepped forward to inspect the strange material.

Zero's voice returned, still as calm as ever. "If you doubt it, why not take it straight to 008 and see if she can still kill you in one shot?"

A nervous laugh rippled through the room, but it quickly died down as Zero continued, his tone hardening. "But I wouldn't recommend testing it. Kitsune only has three pieces of this Mithril, and it's incredibly rare. You're holding something invaluable."

The directors stared at the metal, still processing the reality of it.

"One more thing," Zero added. "Handling Mithril isn't without its risks. It carries a toxin. Short-term exposure is safe enough, but over time, it will cause skin ulcers and bodily decay. No matter how much you cut it, refine it, or wear protective layers, the poison will still seep into your system. That's the price of using Mithril."

A director, his brow furrowed in thought, finally spoke. "Where did you get this Mithril, Zero? And how is it even real?"

...

In a room of the Kitsune base, Zero held the phone in one hand, his other arm surging with dark, pulsating energy. The black material wrapped around his right arm like a living entity, swirling and shifting in rhythmic waves. Moments later, the energy coalesced into something solid—Mithril, a shimmering piece of the mysterious metal, now resting in his grasp.

Zero set the Mithril aside, already formulating a plausible explanation for its sudden appearance. A smirk played at his lips as he thought, "This is a by-product of 009's split." It was a convenient excuse, one that no one would question. After all, when something was difficult to explain, blame it on the anomalies associated with 009. It was a tried and true method, and one the Kitsune often resorted to when dealing with the inexplicable.

The truth, however, was far more complex. The Kitsune no longer possessed many of 009's remnants, and even those they did have were powerless to create something like Mithril. No, this strange metal's existence in their world was purely coincidental—a fortunate discovery from Zero's unique ability, born from the shadowy realm he had learned to glimpse into.

Zero's powers were twofold: View of the Otherworldly and Demon's Hand. Individually, they were not complicated, but together they allowed him to bridge the gap between worlds. His left eye, entirely black save for a blood-red vertical slit reminiscent of a dragon's eye, gave him the ability to peer into an alternate reality. When activated, this eye allowed him to see the fantastical—a world where magic and myth ruled supreme.

That was his first power: the ability to look.

His second power, grab, was far more tangible. With his Demon's Hand, Zero could reach into that other world and steal objects from it, as long as they were within the limits of what his physical body could lift. Through this ability, Zero had witnessed wonders and horrors alike, and in one such moment, he encountered a world not unlike theirs—one plagued by Vampires.

From the eyes of an apprentice vampire hunter, Zero had observed this parallel world, learning their secrets and strategies. He listened intently to the teachings of an old, weathered hunter, who explained how Mithril—mined from deep within the earth—was used to fend off the creatures of the night. The hunter's words echoed in Zero's mind even now, as if spoken directly to him across the veil between worlds.

"Vampires have three weaknesses: sunlight, fire, and Mithril. Sunlight can scorch them, and fire can burn their cold bodies. But high-ranking Vampires will never make such simple mistakes. They avoid the sun and flames, leaving Mithril as the key to their downfall."

Zero had seen the miner's hands as they carefully excavated the silver-white metal, and in that moment, he used his Demon's Hand to seize four precious pieces of Mithril. Now, one of those pieces sat in the hands of the GPA, as they pondered its significance, unaware of its true origins.

The old hunter's voice continued to whisper from Zero's memory. "A Mithril pendant can prevent your blood from being drained. For Vampires, Mithril is a poison—lethal to their kind. A wound inflicted by Mithril will not heal, and a strike to the heart or brain with a Mithril weapon is enough to kill even the most powerful among them."

But there was more. As Zero's vision crossed once again into the foggy realm of that other world, the hunter's grim expression darkened when the question was asked: "What if we encounter an Ancestor?"

The old man hesitated before speaking, his voice heavy with the weight of centuries of knowledge. "An Ancestor? You wouldn't survive, not without something greater. If you ever do meet one, my advice is simple: run, or kneel and offer yourself to them."

"Become a Vampire?!" The apprentice's shock had been palpable, and Zero felt it too, even through the thin veil separating their realities.

The hunter nodded, his eyes hard and unflinching. "Yes. You are too young to understand, but many great vampire hunters have vampire blood running through their veins. The strongest vampires, the royals, descend directly from the Ancestors. In truth, humanity's power is limited, but with royal blood, you could gain eternal life. Abandoning your humanity might be the only way to survive in the long run."

"Survival comes first, child. Always."