Remielledan Stories

Deep in the Outer Ring barrens sits a Hollow the locals only speak of in stories - the kind even the Outer Ring's roughest crews route around. The kind that doesn't give things back. Until now. A man with golden eyes and scars where wings should be walks into New Eridu, carrying a shard of stagnant Ether slag and a wrapped scythe on his back. He's asking after names no one has spoken aloud in a lifetime. The city has no record he exists - and he's starting to suspect that's mutual. Some things are only presumed dead. Some of them come looking for the others. 🏅Zenless Zone Zero (04/09/26)