The sky above the bustling neon-lit city was choked with distant streaks of pink and red where auroras met the polluted atmosphere. From the mega-skyscrapers, buzzing hover-trains weaved through like metallic insects, their low hum adding a rhythmic pulse to the chaotic sounds of life below. The year was 2187, and the city—Zhara Prime—stood as the gleaming heart of humanity’s colonization on the planet Vexis-9. Here, the future looked both beautiful and grim, where peace came with the price of high-tech oppression.
Not that Zero cared much about peace.
Leaning heavily against the cold, multi-layered glass countertop in her apartment’s combined rudimentary kitchen and living space, Zero toyed with the singularity chip resting in the palm of her hand. The chip was no larger than a domino, but damn if it didn’t weigh heavy with the secrets it carried. Her pink hair fell messily over her bare shoulders, haphazardly tied back into a knot that made her reckless image even fiercer. Her red crop top, emblazoned with the number “76” in stylized lettering, clung tightly to her athletic physique, its bold color popping against the muted grays of the room. Denim shorts revealed long legs streaked with faint scars gained from encounters she preferred not to talk about.
The room was dim but alive with the glow of city lights flowing in from massive floor-to-ceiling windows. Outside, drones floated past like fireflies, their blue light temporarily warming her pale complexion. The air carried the metallic tang of ozone, but her nose was more focused on the faint cinnamon aroma of the street vendors two levels below. Her eyes—sharp, predatory—darted between the chip and the kitchen table where a digital holo-screen projected a looping image of a man in uniform. His message had been brief, cryptic, but enough to set Zero on edge: “They’re coming for you, Z.”
She was a fixer, the best there was, a master at hacking systems and breaking into places most people couldn’t even whisper about. But this—
Her gaze flicked toward the door just as it exploded inward.
72 Hours Earlier
Zhara Prime’s underbelly was not a place you walked lightly. The Technocrat guards patrolled it with lethargic steps, caring little for the likes of mercenaries, informants, or cyborg outlaws. Hidden amongst them, in a dive bar so compact that patrons practically drank their neighbors’ sweat, Zero sat hunched over in a booth. Her long pink hair was tucked beneath the hood of her jacket, and her distinct red horns were hidden by a patchy beanie. She swirled translucent green liquid in a glass, her eyes locked on a figure in the shadows.
“You’ve outdone yourself this time,” the shadowed woman muttered, sliding the singularity chip across the sticky table. Her artificial arm clicked faintly as she pulled back. “This thing could buy entire worlds—or destroy them.”
Zero chuckled humorlessly, revealing sharp canines that always gave her laugh an edge. “Could it buy me peace and quiet?”
The woman didn’t answer.
Three high-rank Technocrat enforcers had been dead by dawn. That’s when she’d first known things were spiraling out of control.
Escape
Smoke and haze filled the small apartment. Splintered door pieces littered the floor, and the muffled footfalls of armored boots reverberated through the hallway. Zero didn’t wait. The chip was stashed into her shorts pocket, and in the same smooth movement, she flipped onto the counter. Without hesitation, she leaped toward the massive window, her boots aimed at the reinforced glass. It shattered upon impact, the gust of wind outside sucking her into the 117th-floor void.
For most people, this was a death sentence. For Zero, this was foreplay.
“Catch me if you can,” she muttered to herself and deployed the small hover-board strapped to her back. It unfolded with a whoosh, stabilizing her descent. Below her, the city’s vibrant chaos unfolded—streets aglow with LED, drones zigzagging in coordinated patterns, and distant hover-trains moving at dizzying speeds.
The Technocrats weren’t far behind. Two drones burst out of her broken window, deploying heat-seeking rounds that trailed after her like shimmering vipers. She banked hard left, careening through a narrow maze of neon billboards. Her reflection flashed on a towering advertisement of cyborg beauty models as she zipped past.
Then the figures in the sky came: black-armored Technocrat hunters riding jetpacks, their crimson visors glowing against the dark. This was personal now.
Climactic Confrontation
Zero made it halfway across the city before they caught up fully. Landing deftly on a suspended highway bridge, she turned to face her pursuers, breathless yet grinning fiercely. Her red horns, emerging from beneath the beanie she’d discarded, caught the glint of the blood moon above.
“I don’t suppose we could talk this out?” she called, her voice slick with mockery but her eyes scanning for a route.
The leader, distinguished by his heavier armor, stepped forward. “Hand over the chip, and we’ll make your end painless.”
Zero cocked her head, her pink hair falling to one side. “Tempting. But, uh, pass.”
With a sudden burst of movement, she leaped into action, sliding beneath the leader’s sweeping strike. A short blade that had been concealed in her boot flashed out, slicing at the vulnerable joints in his armor. Sparks flew. He roared in anger as she darted away, agility clearly outmatching brute strength. The others, undeterred, attacked in coordinated waves, but Zero was untouchable, her mind and body working in perfect tandem.
She spotted one of their drones in the periphery, its communication node blinking. With an effortless move, she hurled her small blade into its circuitry. The drone detonated, sending its systems into chaos and disabling the hunters’ coordination.
Knowing the tide had turned, Zero smirked before jumping off the bridge, once again trusting the hover-board to be her salvation. As the wind ripped through her hair, her laughter echoed into the night.
She wasn’t free yet, but for now, she’d won.
The chip stayed firmly in her pocket, its secrets whispering promises of both salvation and ruin.
The Source…check out the article that inspired this amazing short story: Casual Red Crop Top Cosplay Zero Two | DARLING in the FRANXX
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