While observing his own reflection in the living room window, Artem Makhno, a high-ranking Control Agent, tried to piece together a complex puzzle, woven from misunderstandings and decisions that had led him to a point of no return.
His wife, the well-regarded Dr. Makhno, was sitting in one corner of the white sofa, in that immaculate, antiseptic room. She hugged her knees to her chest, as if trying to fold herself inward.
"And now?" she murmured, her voice muffled by her knees.
Artem ignored the question. Instead, he sighed and turned back to the reflection in the window.
That morning, Artem had received a call that would change his life forever. He hadn't heard his wife's voice in over a month—an inevitable consequence of working for the Factories. Dr. Makhno was the physician responsible for the Ones who managed them. Still, Artem never understood the need for her constant absence, or even the necessity of her role, considering the Factories were automated. Besides, they were located in Zone0, the forbidden zone, where no One was allowed to set foot. So why did they need a doctor to make such a dangerous journey so frequently?
As a Control Agent, Artem had learned never to question the One System. His job was to reprimand those who did. That's why he avoided the usual "how was work?" and ignored his own uncertainties. Still, the pollution in Zone0 worried him.
Medicine wasn't what it had been in centuries past. The Wall had solved most of humanity's physical and mental issues, sentencing terminal patients to immediate death. As a result, Zone0 became the final destination for criminals and the incurably ill. Although no one admitted it, the eyes of the Ones saw peace in the streets because it was no longer possible to drive and find archaic buildings like prisons, cemeteries, or hospitals.
Medicine, once vital, had become a minor craft. Treating a severe flu was its biggest challenge. So, even though his wife was a doctor, Artem feared that the pollution produced by the Factories over the decades would eventually push her to the brink. But as he had always been taught, he didn't question One policy.
Until the day he was forced to.
"Hello?"
"Artem… I need you to come home," Dr. Makhno said, her voice trembling over the phone.
"What's going on?"
"Today was the limit."
"What do you mean? What happened in Zone0?"
"Actually, it's what happened in Zone1."
"I… I don't understand… what are you saying?"
Artem whispered. He was still at the Agency and instinctively knew something terrifying and final had occurred.
"I'm giving up. I want… the Transformation."
His fellow Agents could see the tremor ripple through Artem's body. Hearing a living person wish for death, in an age of peace, was like hearing the dead wish to live again. Impossible.
"Come on," he tried to soften his tone. "You're surely exaggerating. We'll talk to someone at OneTower and you'll change careers. You can go back to school, you can—"
"Can you stop being an Agent for one second and just be my husband!?" Dr. Makhno snapped.
Artem rushed to the staircase leading outside. Still whispering, he tried to calm her.
"Please, I'm an hour away from home. Wait for me."
"I just wanted you to understand. To stop for a second and feel what I feel about the One policy! I need to tell you what I really do when—"
"Please, no," he interrupted. "You know you can't."
And then, after yet another of his thousands of defensive reactions, she struck him with the final blow:
"I brought one of the newborn nuls home."
Artem's eyes widened in terror. What he had just heard echoed in his mind like a silent scream. A phrase that had been forming within him for a long time now roared to life: My wife is becoming a Zero.
Artem didn't cry right away. He tried to be realistic, fair, altruistic. But none of those things could coexist in this world. He tried to be realistic: Dr. Makhno had spent too much time in the cursed zone—thoughts like that could be excused. He tried to be fair: the law he had sworn to uphold required him to report her immediately. He tried to be altruistic: say he had been the one to bring the creature home. But every Agent call was recorded.
After hanging up, he collapsed on the steps.
An Agent passing by helped him to his feet.
"Agent Makhno? What's wrong? Do you need a doctor?"
Artem let out an ironic laugh, confusing the young Agent.
"Your name's Yuri, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"What mission are you on right now?"
"It's confidential. Sorry, sir."
"That's it! That's how an Agent should be! Doesn't matter the rank, doesn't matter the relation. An Agent must always be an Agent, right?"
"I… I guess so…" Yuri replied, uncertain.
"I need to do this. I don't want to, but…"
"…but the law compels us," Yuri completed.
Artem placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled, as if thanking him for something.
"If you ever want to talk… do you know the Diogo Brasil bar?" In an obvious attempt to climb the ranks, the young Agent took a shot.
"Today won't be a good day, Yuri," Artem replied, closing the door.
A morning that changed that couple's life forever. As Artem stared at his reflection in the window of their home, he tried to decide whether it belonged to the husband who had sworn to protect the woman he loved, or to the Agent who had sworn to protect the law.
"Why did you lie?" Artem's voice, now thick with emotion, could no longer hold back the tears.
"I… I don't know."
He sighed, looking up at the ceiling as if searching for a solution there. But there was none. The moment he reported his wife, the judgment was sealed. The Wall would be her fate. Even if they proved there was no creature at home. Even if witnesses swore the call had been a joke. The damage was done.
"Artem, what's going to happen now?"
He wiped his tears and tried to respond with the firmness of a man who wasn't speaking about his own wife.
"When you reach the Wall gate, they'll strip your clothes, guide you through to the other side, and the moment your feet touch the cold dust of Zone0, the gate will close behind you."
"And then?"
"Why are you doing this to me?"
"And then?" Dr. Makhno insisted.
"Either the cold. Or the nuls. The first one who notices you will be the monster who—"
"—who will kill me."
The silence that hung between their exchanges was deafening.
"I'm going to ask you one last time. Do you want me to tell you everything I know about Zone1?"
"You already know the answer."
Dr. Makhno smiled. Not out of joy, but out of resignation.
"Do you regret marrying me?"
"No!" he answered without hesitation. "Of course not."
And it was true. Artem loved her and didn't blame her for what had happened. He thought like an Agent was trained to think, and because of that, he blamed the existence of the nuls. It was his wife's empathy that condemned her—her inability to ignore creatures that never grant second chances to those thrown into Zone0.
Artem didn't blame the laws of the Ones. He didn't blame his wife. He didn't even blame his own sense of duty. He blamed only the nuls.
Even knowing they were irrational beings, incapable of choice or remorse, he needed a target. Because blaming something that can't defend itself is always easier than blaming the one truly responsible.
Artem grabbed a white coat hanging by the door and walked toward the exit. Dr. Makhno followed him. At the threshold, she raised her arms, and Artem helped her into the coat with a mechanical gesture. As he adjusted the collar, he asked her the only question that truly mattered.
He didn't ask about her work. Nor about the secrets she kept regarding Zone1. To Artem, there was only one question more important than all the rest.
"Why did you lie to me?"
"Sometimes," she said, "lying is the only way to show the truth."
Artem smiled. But behind that smile was a grief he could barely contain. Deep down, though he couldn't say it aloud, he knew the truth he feared the most.
The only one to blame for his wife's death was himself.
They both died that night. They just did it in different places.
Artem didn't know how to handle his emotions. So he shut down. Let his subconscious take over, guiding him to the bar Agent Yuri had mentioned that morning.
The bar was full, as always. Laughter and lively conversations echoed from the tables, audible even from the parking lot. It was, by no means, a place for someone emotionally shattered—someone who had just "killed" his wife and was searching for some kind of peace for his soul.
The moment his uniformed body stepped through the door, time froze. Silence settled over the room like a heavy fog. The patrons stood still, eyes locked on him, trying to guess his next move.
The waitress hurried toward him—not only to calm the room but also to assess his intentions.
"Good evening, Agent. Inspection or visit?"
"Visit."
She sighed in relief and led him to one of the few empty tables. Slowly, the murmurs returned and the space filled again with life. But the bar felt different. Artem noticed it the moment he walked in. The atmosphere seemed... whiter. The shelves behind the counter were broken. A sight that, on any other day, would have stirred him to action. But not tonight. Tonight, Artem was somewhere else—utterly lost and disconnected.
When he left, the alcohol churned inside him. He needed to get rid of it immediately. But an Agent must maintain his reputation at all times. He glanced around, searching for a discreet spot, until he saw a narrow opening in a nearby sugarcane field, just beyond the parking lot.
Before anyone could notice, he ran there. And in that hidden space, he expelled not only the drink but all the anxiety and fear gnawing at his insides.
That's when he heard it.
A scream.
Then another.
And another.
He closed his eyes, trying to isolate that sound from the rest of the world and realized it was coming from deep within the sugarcane field.
Artem took a deep breath. Trained to act with precision, he moved forward without making a sound, not knowing whether the attacker was still nearby.
When he reached the spot, he found a solitary figure at the center of a circle of flattened stalks.
Screaming.
But there were no wounds. No signs of an attack. Just screams without any apparent reason.
And then, without warning, Artem felt an overwhelming urge.
A ravenous hunger to do the same.
And so, screaming, he let go of his guilt.
And it was through those screams that he met Nul.
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