Echoes of a Broken WorldChapter 2 — Lucky
The aircraft landed quietly on a dark rooftop near the harbor.
From above, the district looked peaceful enough. Cargo ships floated in the distance and rows of streetlights stretched along the docks. But the noise drifting through the air told a different story.
Music.
Shouting.
Crowds.
Anbu stepped off the aircraft and adjusted the collar of his coat.
Somewhere nearby, an underground Echo arena was operating. Places like this existed in almost every city now. After the Null invasion, Echo fights had replaced street gangs in many cities. Same rules, just far deadlier.
Normally Valtris shut places like this down.
Tonight, Anbu was here for a different reason.
He followed the sound of the crowd until he reached a rusted warehouse near the docks.
Inside, the building was anything but abandoned.
Floodlights blazed above a circular pit carved into the concrete floor. Hundreds of spectators filled the metal walkways surrounding the arena, shouting and placing bets as two Echo users fought below.
Anbu leaned quietly against one of the support pillars and watched.
One of the fighters was massive.
Broad shoulders. Thick arms. Every step cracked the concrete beneath his boots. His Echo clearly enhanced physical strength, and he used it without hesitation.
The other fighter moved like he didn’t take the match seriously at all.
Lucky.
The crowd chanted his name as he danced around the pit, dodging the larger man’s attacks with lazy confidence.
The big fighter roared and swung a heavy punch.
Lucky slipped under it at the last moment.
A faint streak of light followed his movement. The glowing trail lingered for half a second, like an afterimage trying to keep up with him.
The larger fighter spun and attacked again.
Lucky slid across the ground, kicked off the arena wall, and flipped over the man’s shoulder.
Another streak of light trailed behind him.
The energy around Lucky was building.
The trails behind him began to hum faintly, like distant thunder gathering strength.
The crowd noticed it too.
“Here it comes!” someone shouted.
Lucky flashed a crooked grin.
“You’re getting slower.”
The big man charged again.
Lucky ran straight toward him.
At the last moment he leaped sideways, planting his foot against the man’s knee and launching himself into a spinning punch.
The glowing trails converged along his arm.
The strike landed like a cannon blast.
The larger fighter slammed into the wall, shaking the warehouse.
The crowd erupted.
Lucky rolled his shoulders like the fight had barely warmed him up.
“Anyone else?”
No one volunteered.
Lucky snorted softly.
“Didn’t think so.”
He climbed out of the pit and grabbed his winnings from a nearby table.
As he walked toward the exit, he noticed someone standing quietly near the doorway.
Most people in the warehouse were loud.
Excited.
Drunk.
This man was none of those things.
He simply watched.
Lucky slowed slightly.
Then he stopped in front of him.
Lucky tilted his head.
“You’re not here to gamble.”
“No.”
Lucky studied him for a moment.
“You’ve been watching the whole fight.”
“Yes.”
Lucky leaned closer.
“You with Valtris?”
Anbu didn’t answer.
Lucky huffed a quiet laugh.
“Thought so.”
He pushed open the warehouse door.
“Come on.”
Anbu followed him outside.
Two streets away sat a small bar overlooking the docks.
The place was quiet compared to the arena. A few tired dockworkers sat at scattered tables while an old radio played softly behind the counter.
Lucky dropped into a chair and waved to the bartender.
“Two drinks.”
The bartender nodded and walked away.
Lucky leaned back in his chair and studied Anbu.
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“So what did the big Valtris prodigy think of the show?”
“You’re reckless.”
Lucky barked a laugh.
“That’s the first thing you say?”
“You build power through movement. Momentum based Echo.”
Lucky raised an eyebrow.
“You figured that out fast.”
“You rely entirely on it. If someone traps you or slows your movement, your advantage disappears.”
Lucky crossed his arms.
“Hasn’t happened yet.”
“It will.”
Lucky leaned forward.
“You Valtris people always talk like that. Strategy. Discipline. Structure.”
He tapped the table.
“Fights aren’t math problems.”
“They still follow patterns.”
The bartender placed two glasses on the table.
Lucky grabbed one.
“So what do you want?”
“I’m forming a team.”
Lucky took a drink.
“And you want me on it?”
“Yes.”
“You watched one fight and decided that?”
“I watched five.”
Lucky blinked.
“You’ve been stalking me.”
“Observing.”
Lucky shook his head.
“You’re weird.”
He leaned back again.
“So why should I join?”
“Because your current approach will eventually get you killed.”
Lucky frowned.
“That’s a bold claim.”
“You fight like someone who trusts his instincts.”
“That’s called talent.”
“But you don’t think beyond the next punch.”
Lucky sighed.
“Alright, professor.”
He set his glass down.
“I’ll consider your offer.”
Lucky leaned forward again.
“But first I need a favor.”
Anbu waited.
“There’s a guy running this part of the docks.”
“Name’s Rask Toren.”
Lucky continued.
“He controls the underground fights and the smuggling around here.”
“And?”
“He recently decided every fighter in the arena works for him now.”
Lucky cracked his knuckles.
“I said no.”
“So he wants to make an example out of you.”
“Exactly.”
Lucky stood.
“Come on.”
The dockyard was almost empty at night.
Stacks of metal cargo containers formed narrow corridors between the shipping lanes. One container nearby still bore a deep crater in its side — a scar left behind by a Null attack years ago.
Lucky walked ahead confidently.
“You know, most Valtris agents bring backup for things like this.”
“I don’t need it.”
Lucky smirked.
“I like the confidence.”
Voices echoed ahead.
Three men stepped out between the containers.
One of them smiled.
“Well look who finally showed up.”
Lucky stretched his shoulders.
“Evening, Rask.”
The man glanced at Anbu.
“And who’s this?”
“Friend.”
Rask laughed.
“You brought backup?”
Lucky shrugged.
“Something like that.”
The men activated their Echo abilities.
Metal from the surrounding containers began bending and twisting.
Chains rose from the ground like living snakes.
Lucky dashed forward immediately.
“Finally!”
He kicked off one container, bounced to another, and launched himself toward Rask.
Glowing trails followed every movement.
But the metal chains snapped upward suddenly.
One wrapped around Lucky’s leg.
Another slammed into his side.
Lucky crashed into the ground.
Rask smiled.
“Your problem is that you never think.”
Lucky tried to stand, but more chains tightened around him.
His movement stopped.
The glowing trails around him vanished.
Momentum broken, Anbu thought. Predictable.
Rask turned toward Anbu.
“And you must be the idiot who thought helping him was a good idea.”
Anbu stepped forward quietly.
For a moment nothing happened.
Then thin lines of faint light appeared across the ground.
They spread slowly across the metal containers.
Subtle.
Elegant.
A geometric lattice formed across the dockyard.
The lines emitted a faint metallic ring as they locked into place.
Control the field, control the fight.
Rask frowned.
“What is this?”
Anbu raised his hand slightly.
The chains surrounding Lucky froze.
Their movement slowed.
Then stopped.
The metal structures twisted awkwardly as if forced into unnatural angles.
Rask yanked at the chains.
Nothing.
Anbu walked forward.
Each step aligned perfectly with the glowing grid beneath his feet.
Precise.
Controlled.
One of Rask’s men charged.
Anbu moved once.
His arm shifted along a glowing line.
The strike landed with brutal efficiency.
The man collapsed instantly.
The second attacker rushed him.
Anbu stepped aside.
Another precise motion.
Another man dropped.
Rask stepped back, suddenly nervous.
Lucky stared from the ground.
“…okay.”
“That’s impressive.”
Anbu stopped a few steps away from Rask.
“You rely too heavily on your environment.”
Rask tried to pull more metal toward him.
The grid tightened.
The containers shifted slightly, locking into rigid angles.
Rask’s control collapsed.
One quick movement from Anbu ended the fight.
Silence returned to the dockyard.
Lucky pulled the broken chain off his leg and stood up slowly.
He looked at the defeated men.
Then at Anbu.
Lucky scratched the back of his head.
“Alright.”
“I’ll admit it.”
A slow grin spread across his face.
“That was really cool.”
Anbu looked at him calmly.
“Power without discipline always collapses.”
Lucky snorted.
“And discipline without fun sounds boring.”
Lucky extended his hand.
“Alright, Valtris boy. I’m in.”
Anbu looked at the offered hand.
Reckless, he thought.
Useful.
He shook it.
For a few seconds the two stood there in silence.
Then a scraping sound echoed deeper in the container yard.
Lucky turned.
“…wait.”
Between two rows of containers, a figure stumbled forward.
Rask.
The crime boss dragged himself toward the docks, one arm clutching his ribs.
Lucky stared.
“You’re still trying to run?”
Rask glared back.
“This isn’t over.”
His eyes burned with hatred as they flicked toward Anbu.
“You don’t know who you just crossed.”
Anbu didn’t move.
Rask backed away into the darkness and disappeared between the containers.
Lucky folded his arms.
“You’re just going to let him go?”
“Yes.”
“That guy’s going to come back with friends.”
“I expect him to.”
Lucky stared at him for a moment.
Then a slow smile appeared.
“…you did that on purpose.”
Anbu didn’t answer.
Footsteps approached behind them.
A few dock workers had gathered near the container entrance.
One older man stepped forward cautiously.
“That bastard’s been squeezing everyone around here for months.”
He looked between Lucky and Anbu.
“You really took him down?”
Lucky shrugged.
“Mostly him.”
He pointed at Anbu.
The workers exchanged relieved looks.
One of them chuckled.
“Well… someone finally stood up to him.”
Lucky stretched his arms.
“See?” he said with a crooked grin. “Already doing good deeds.”
Anbu looked out toward the dark harbor.
“This isn’t finished.”
Lucky’s grin widened.
“Good.”
He cracked his knuckles.
“I hate boring jobs.”
Anbu turned toward the city lights.
“Then let’s get moving.”
Lucky followed him.
Behind them, the dock workers slowly returned to their work.
And somewhere beyond the harbor, Rask Toren was already running toward the only people powerful enough to help him take revenge.
The Meridian Syndicate.
