It was collection day and this was the last stop of the night but not nearly the end. In fact, the work hours of many involved in the underground stretch all the way to the first winks of daylight. For Luck however there was an important event tommorow morning, one he could not afford to miss, even if he had to chop off his own legs. It was the main reason that instead of arriving at the last stop at 3:00am Luck was two hours ahead of schedule. Luck walked into the restaurant, noticing the two gentlemen eating at the far corner table. Curious since it was hours past closing.

"Mr. Ark." Luck bowed respectfully.

"Ah, Mr. Lockyer. The monthly collection I presume? Unless you're here for our afterhours special?" Luck had forgotten about Tuesday Afterhours.

"Just the collection, Mr. Ark." Luck paused as he felt the sudden pang of hunger. "Actually, what are you serving? I'm famished." Luck had to admit the promise of food was attractive.

"Well! It is not everyday we get to serve the great Luck Lockyer. Find yourself a table. I'll be out with the menu and let the chef know you're here." 

"Just Luck, Mr. Ark, no need for titles however useful they may be." Luck chuckled, there were worse things Mr. Ark could've called him.

"Apologies, Mr. Lockyer. I'll be right back with the menu and collection as well." The elderly man dashed off with a purposeful gait.

Few minutes passed and Luck found himself taking a corner table in full view of the other two gentlemen occupying the restaurant. Their conversation was definitely concerning less than savory business, not that they were shy about it simply being in Mr. Ark's restaurant at this hour spoke of your status. One man was dressed in a classic brown suit, old-style, worn and well cared for but stylish all the same. That earned him Luck's respect. Luck actually knew him in passing, that was John Does or Peter Dimitri if you want his real name, a capable man all the same, useful in the business according to reliable sources, he was a great asset. If men in the business could have the same measure of style as that man Luck's smile might stay plastered on his face forever.

The other man was dressed in a simple black suit, stylish but boring. He caught Luck staring and gave him an angry look. Luck sat back in his seat noticing Mr. Ark approach.

"Mr. Lockyer, the monthly collection. $250,000 counted and packaged." He handed over a solid black briefcase. 

"I'll take you at your word Mr. Ark. But more importantly, the menu?" Luck grinned, sliding the briefcase under the table. "I've had a long day, you know how it is. Tommorow, or rather later today i've got a rather important meeting."

"Of course, here you are, sir. The afterhour menu. And, ah, it's that time of year again isn't it? " He said sliding in and out of the role of a server. "I'll be back to take your order." He said in response to Luck's nod.

It was easy to notice the bickering at the only other occupied table in the restuarant. It was easier to ignore it with the prospect of delicious food but left with the menu Luck had nothing to distract himself. In the absence of Mr. Ark the man in the black suit approached Luck, Peter close behind shaking his head. A quick glance at their table confirmed they were done with their meal. If Luck had to guess the other man had a bone to pick and Luck's guesses were almost always right.

"Don't do this Cole." 

"Evening gentlemen, what can I do for you?" Luck said with a flourish and a goofy smile not quite giving them a view of his eyes.

The man in black twitched. "John, the kid's asking for trouble, he heard our business." He said turning to Peter.

"Cole, there's a reason the ki- the man is here." Peter said reasonably. "Not anyone can get into Mr. Ark's at this hour." He was right but Luck wasn't one to pass up a chance at fun.

"Hey, what did you gentlemen order? I'm hopelessly stumped. I haven't been here afterhours since my 18th birthday. Damn, a whole year huh?." Luck said trailing off, absently focusing on the menu at complete disregard to the two men. He mumbled in consideration softly to himself as he browsed the dishes.

"Wh- he's fucking with us John. The kid is gonna leak all of our shit. What's a 19 year old kid doing here?" Cole said concerned.

"Cole, I know you're new. Sometimes you have to learn things the hard way, this is not one of those times. The 'hard way' might actually make your life a pain. So i'm telling you right now, back the fuck off, he won't say anything." Peter's face was grave, but despite his warning about the 'hard way' he didn't make any outward moves to stop the man.

"No." Cole said simply, turning to Luck. "I've staked too much on this job for a child like this to ruin my chances."

If Luck would've looked up he would've seen Peter smile apologetically and take a small step back. He would've seen the vein on Cole's face close to popping but Luck was too engrossed with the variety of choices Ark's Dishes serves afterhours. Or so it seemed.

"Mr. Ark, the Masa Toro with Caviar please!" Luck said raising his hand to the elderly man waiting off to the side, ignoring the two suited men.

"Of course." He dashed in and grabbed the menu and left a cup of Luck's favorite soda before retreating once more.

"And Mr. Ark? Tell Ernie, as always, i'm looking forward to it." Mr. Ark paused and smiled nodding.

"Sorry kid." The sound of the gun cocking silenced Luck.

A gunshot and metal ding rang out. When everyone came to their senses, Luck sat there languidly holding a sleek pistol in his hand. He took a sip of his soda, there weren't many things that truly annoyed Luck but having a gun pointed at him was one of them. Of course, killing needlessly was also one of them and so the man kept his vitals. Luck sat there, enjoying the rather loud volume of the silence. Leaving bloodstains anywhere was never appropriate, especially to Mr. Ark, it was rude and unforgivable.

Outside, even the night was silent and if the bright stars above could gaze through the pollution and upon the restaurant they would find themselves jealous of the twinkle in the sparkling eyes staring up at the man named Cole. There was a lazy expression on the seated man, a lurking danger in the offhand way he held his weapon, a contradiction to the threat of his life in the way he sipped his drink unconcerned. Perhaps what would be most disconcerting to the stars above would be the small smirk on his visage. But to anyone involved in the underground the truly terrifying feature of the man was the color of his eyes. Amber.

"Now look, friend." Luck said low and slow, locking on to Cole's eyes with his own. "The one thing you didn't want to do was point a gun at me. The second that happens you bet your life as well as mine. And when it comes to gambling no one is my equal." 

"Luck Lockyer." Cole whispered, trembling. "The Amber Demon." He held his hand in pain, likely from the impact of the bullet.

Luck glanced at Peter. "Now Cole, I know you're new, that much is obvious. But believe me when I say, if we were anywhere but Ark's Dishes, if this happened at any other part of the city, you'd be a corpse. And already cold. Lucky for you we are at Mr. Ark's and you're with John Does of all people, respectful in the business and very capable, that alone gives you some measure of leeway." 

"He won't do it again Luck. Trust me on that one." Peter said putting a hand on his companion.

Luck shrugged. "Consider yourself lucky Cole. I'm just here to enjoy a nice peaceful meal. Nice to meet you, mind you, the man I call my best friend tried to kill me before I really got to know him." His weapon dissapeared into his coat as he reached out his hand dispersing the tense atmosphere immediately. Time seemed to resume as held breaths were released.

Cole finally seemed to get a hold of himself. "S-Sorry, Mr. Lockyer. If I knew it was you, I would never, I mean never." He said shaking the proffered hand.

"Like I said, no hard feelings. Worse has happened and at worse times." Luck answered rubbing his scar. "Now if you'll excuse me, i've got a meal to devour." He said gesturing off to the side to Mr. Ark.

"No, i'm sorry, truly. Mr. Lockyer i'll make it up to you. There's no excuse to go pulling a weapon on anyone. I've had a bad month is all." Cole said to which Luck nodded. The man's genuine sentiment was nice but Luck couldn't really fathom how he would end up being useful.

Luck could appreciate a man who understood the nature of debt, favors, bargains and deals. And Cole seemed to understand his current standing, though Luck really didn't mind, he wasn't lying when he mentioned worse had happened.

"Come on Cole. The night's not over, not for us." Peter said handing a dented gun to him. "Luck." He nodded as a way of goodbye.

"Mr. Dimitri" Luck nodded back smiling at Peter's surprise. "Take care of him and maybe get him a nicer suit, you seem like a man of fashion." The flustered man only nodded.

Luck checked his watch noticing the time as he watched them leave. It was 1:30am and the nature of the event tommorow or rather today required him to get up early in order to accomodate the client's schedule. It was an event that occured every year and Luck was always simultaneously excited and terrified, it demanded his entire family's presence. His watch was a stylish silver that went well with the black hemmed pants and comfortable grey shirt he wore, of course it was hidden when he slipped on his bomber jacket. His timepiece ticked to 1:31am as Mr. Ark came to the table.

"Masa Toro with Caviar, sir. Please take your time we're in no rush to close. Ernie said, and these are his words not mine 'The fucker, always keeping me up at night. He's getting fatter and fatter, that Luck.' pardon the language." Mr. Ark said, butchering Ernie's accent. "Of course, he said that with this usual smile." Luck could easily picture it, too.

"Thank you, Mr. Ark. And no hard feelings towards Ernie, I know his tone well enough." 

"Don't worry about paying Mr. Lockyer, it's the least I can do for the disturbance tonight." Mr. Ark bowed.

"Nonsense. It wouldn't sit right with me. You'd be doing me a favor by letting me pay." 

The waiter and owner sighed a familiar sigh. "I seem to have forgotten how stubborn you are. If you insist." Mr. Ark smirked. "I know you have an occasion tommorow so i'll leave you to it. Mr. Lockyer." He nodded, walking away.

Leaving the restaurant with a full stomach, a briefcase full of money, and a package from Mr. Ark, Luck whistled happily winding through dark alleyways, taking shortcuts through shady businesses, jumping between sketchy rooftops, all while smiling and nodding to the many friends he encountered on the way. Luck knew his natural demeanor made many people think he was aloof and airheaded but he was anything but. In fact, Luck had always been aware of his surroundings to a degree not many were, so much so that he had shaken off four seperate tails. Five if you included Joe who always made it a sport to follow Luck once he passed the Cow's Head. The man was good but Luck was better. Maybe he'd stop by and give him some tips next run,

Despite already making his last stop, he always considered his home as the final stop. Because no matter Luck's business he always ended up home at the end of the night. 

Luck walked in the middle of the street now, in an exurb. Wealthy houses surrounded him and he stopped in front of his. With a nostalgic smile he entered the front gate and gazed up at the magnificent decoy. He took an immediate right turn into the family greenhouse where he hit a switch that raised a hatch hidden in the greenery. Without hesitation Luck threw the briefcase ahead, jumped in holding the package, and enjoyed the slide into the family homebase.

Placing the briefcase and package on the kitchen island with the others he removed his clothes and undressed, glancing up at a clock, it was already 2:00am. He took a quick shower before heading to his room.

It was a while for Luck to fall asleep, he was never one to have trouble relaxing but tommorow was a big day. For even Luck Lockyer to acknowledge that meant that something truly huge was about to occur.

A blaring alarm woke Luck up as he stared blearily at the ceiling. Realizing the day, his eyes sharpened as he jumped out of his bed, fixed his hair and walked into the living room.

"Hey Dad. How is everything so far?" The legendary Rick Lockyer was usually stonefaced and emotionally sound but today he was clearly anxious.

He had a chiseled jaw, somehow still noticeable under his brown beard. His eyes were a simple brown, yet they emenated depth and intelligence. He was a man in his 40s but retained his youth and looked more along the lines of 35. He was a healthy man who took care of his body. But the hazards of the job had him shot in the leg, so he walked with a slight limp and cane. His presence was powerful but it had a different effect depending on if you were friend, foe or family. He was dressed similarly to Luck, that is, in pajamas. Thus, his presence was nullified to a great degree. At the moment he looked like your ordinary dad.

"Only time will tell, son. Is your sister awake?" Rick asked. "We'll need the whole family for this."

"Let me check." Luck said passing by some of the preparations on his way to Tate's room.

The food was already laid out, ready to recieve the guest. There were guns laid out across the table as well, the guest always loved a demonstration of them. Decorations in accordance with the guest's taste were scattered all over. Luck as well as the rest of the Lockyer family couldn't afford to have anything go wrong. If the guest was unhappy she had too much power over the Lockyer family, things could go south, fast. However, if the meeting went well the Lockyer family would be looking well for the immediate future. There was still risk involved, and the event was mandatory as it came every year but this particular individual held power over even the most powerful criminal family in the underground. That in itself spoke volumes about the guest.

"Tate! Wake up!" Luck said knocking on her door.

Some random incoherent muffled muttering greeted him.

"You know what day is it right?" Luck talked through the door.

There was a small amount of groaning and mumbling, an alarmed yelp, and a loud thud.

Luck walked back out to the living room, his job done. In addition to the greenhouse entrance there was another passage into the homebase through the tunnels under the city which would be where the client would be coming from.

"Time?" Rick asked.

"Quarter past six." Luck answered.

"How was the collection? No problems I presume." Rick asked offhandedly. Luck noticed the briefcase had dissapeared.

"All within expectations, someone does owe me a favor now though. Oh, and Uncle Ark says hi, he brought the usual for the guest." Luck gestured to the package on the kitchen island. They were not related but Mr. Ark was always like an uncle to Luck, likely due to the relation he had with his parents.

"We can't afford to have Etsuji outdo us this year. Estu, cunning as always I wonder what he has in store for her this year. Even as his body ages his mind gets sharper. As per tradition, we can't even open the package. That man, always trying to best me." Rick sighed shaking his head.

Luck only smiled knowing the stress Uncle Ark gave his father, this was a competition and despite Mr. Ark's demeanor he never did like to lose. Not even to his best friend.

"I'm here! I'm here!" Tate came out in pink pajamas.

Tate was the only child of Rick and Laura Lockyer but Luck was adopted a year previously. She had the wavy brunette hair of her mother, a round pretty face and a fit body. She was popular with the boys and Luck cringed at the man who found himself with her. Luck knew she was extremely attractive, that they were not related, and that he saw her everyday, usually in the dead hours of the night. She was intelligent and competent and almost as talented as Luck in the family business and, augmented by her good looks, she was very dangerous. But Luck had only ever seen her as one thing. Family. An innapropriate thought had never crossed Luck's mind.

"Morning Tate." Luck greeted her. "Really? Sleeping in, today?"

"Morning, is she here yet? Did I miss anything?" She answered mostly ignoring Luck.

"Nothing yet, honey." Rick answered, pouring himself some coffee. "Wait, I hear someone." Rick said suddenly, putting the mug down.

There was a ding and the lights went out. Immediately, instincts kicked in, Luck crouched low, Rick and Tate only moments behind. The door opened, poor light from the tunnel entrance to their hideaway illuminating the silohuette of the intruder. The figure reached to the side Luck, Tate and their father were breathing hard. Luck glanced around and grabbed the nearest gun from the island. He noticed Rick reach up and grab a gun and something else from the table as well. 

Then the lights turned on and Tate was behind the figure holding something in her hand. Rick and Luck took the flanks. It was done, the intruder had been caught off guard. Again. 

Just like every other year.

Luck smiled.

"Happy birthday Mom!" Tate yelled.

"Happy birthday!" Luck and Rick screamed from the sides blasting the confetti guns.

The woman almost fainted in shock as she took in the cake in Tate's hands. Luck realized what his Dad picked up from the table as Rick approached with the lighter.

"You do this every year!" Laura Lockyer said angry but smiling.

His mother was someone of elegance, composed and calm in most things she did. It was why his family enjoyed surprising her and seeing her flustered. Luck had her eyes, their entrancing quality if not the color even though they weren't really related. Her rounded face and beauty contrasted with her husbands sharper features. She was the same age as his father but looked extremely young for her age. She had aged well. The only wrinkles she had were ones of laughter. Luck took after his mother the most, adopting her optimism even in the most grim settings. 

The Lockyers laughed into late morning, not really expecting to do anything so early. The highlight, Luck felt, was always the opening of all the presents. People were greedy, it was why something so novel as giving away things for free was special. Wine from a friend in another city. Glass ornaments from an old glassblower deep in the city who helped Laura embed herself in a rival drug cartel. Earrings from other women who had carved their way to the top of their underhanded trade. But always, Luck knew the present his mom looked forward to the most. It was such an ordinary thing, but you really don't appreciate the difficulty it is to stop by any candy shop, they were all situated in the nicer, more safer, neighborhoods where all the families with kids were. It was why Mr. Ark's present was always the best, why Luck's dad always lost, and why his mom's eyes always lit up when she opened it.

The celebration ended rather ubruptly, a strange turn of events had each Lockyer with business to attend to. It was a nice reprieve but important matters called for the attention of one such as Luck. Still, Luck found his mouth watering at the assorted sweets Mr. Ark had gifted his Mom. Surrounded by blackmail, extortion, murder, and violence, it's hard to find anyone worth being called a friend in the underground.

But Luck had many friends, and it was all the more reason for things to get violent when prompted.

The gentlemen Luck was paying a visit to dealt not in favors, blackmail, bargains, deals, extortion, or anything so subtle. This man was useful when you found yourself lacking some muscle.

It was a chore but the walk over to the man's place got cut quite short if you knew the right alleyways, or in this case the right rooftops to cross. And Luck knew many. So after greeting the guards with a silent gesture he entered the premises and found himself face to face with his business for the day.

"Tell me Jack. What do you think I do? What's my purpose in the business?" Luck stood lax, hands in his pockets, a sleepy smirk on his face. In reality he was hyper-focused, his baggy pants concealing the grip he had on his silenced weapons, his small smile a perfect distraction from his burning eyes.

They were in Jack's office. His place was situated deep in a mess of close rundown houses but connected well enough to the tunnel system for it not to matter. From the outside the place looked like an old abondoned house simliar to those surrounding it. Inside however the house was as normal as any other suburban dwelling albeit with a lot of polished wood furniture, a byproduct of the owner's own sense of style. Luck grimaced as he noticed the same look in his office as the rest of the house. A terrible style had always been something capable of reversing Luck's smirk.

"You make sure we're airtight, that no one crosses us." The man had a thin sheen of sweat seated in his chair. Too little for this amount of pressure, betraying the business was no small thing. To be calm in the face of retribution was highly suspicious. Although, he was a muscular man, so it wouldn't be a large jump in logic to assume he was just confident.

A routine background check on Jack revealed his contacts with a small crime syndicate. One that had been an annoying but easily ignored thorn in the side of the business. A few called in favors and money in the right hands had all the loose ends tied up. Some deeper investigation on Luck's part into Jack himself had revealed a rather interesting route to take during the interrogation as well. Now all that remained was for Luck to do what he did best.

"Roger Daniels, Ray Vence, Joyce Han." The man shifted in his seat. "74 Tuhm Street, 981 Camino Avenue, any bells ringing Mr. Quick?" By now he was twitching in his chair as Luck mentioned his most recent contacts and rendezvous locations. But something wasn't adding up. His movements were too choreographed for Luck's taste.

"N-No. No bells ringing, s-sir." Now why would he be acting scared? Something was wrong, Luck knew the signs of someone in real fear well enough. Admittedly, the man was a great actor for someone so large.

"Maybe this will help you." Pictures scattered across Jack's desk. Not of any evidence, that would be an unecessary use of resources. No, the pictures on the desk were of a simpler nature, a girl. In a car, in a coffee shop, working at a smoothie joint, everywhere. Just a simple girl. On closer inspection one could see she seemed to bear some resemblance to Jack.

His eyes went from fake emotion to satisfyingly genuine terror as he realized the focus of the pictures."J-Joan...my daughter? Don't you dare bring her into this! You fucking scum!" Jack screamed into Luck's face, spittle flying. The first real emotion of the interrogation.

Luck smiled with narrowed eyes as he loomed over the older man.

"Don't fuck with the business Jack. It's never healthy." Luck moved to the quaint collection of whiskey on the nearby table, took the liberty of pouring himself a glass, and offered the same to Jack. "Care for a glass?"

 "Bastard." He spat, standing up to walk over to Luck. "I've heard about you. The piece of shit child who hides behind his father. Devil of the Cards? What a laugh, you think you're actually good at gambling? I've got news for you kid, they're just afraid of letting you lose. You're just a piece of shit wanna be gangster. The Amber Demon? Give me a break. If there's any reason to call you a devil or a demon it's for the fact you bring innocent daughters into this, scum."

There was a pause the length of a heartbeat and the man swung. With drink in hand, Luck ducked the blow and before Jack could even move the sound of a gun cocking came from below his chin. Luck took a sip of his whiskey as he straightened out and backed away, careful to keep his gun trained on target. The room was much too small to risk any close quarter engagements, especially versus a larger opponent. Even the whiskey was subpar, rough on the throat like the room on the eyes.

"Now, with that done. Sit." Luck gestured to his chair with his pistol. The man didn't move immediately so Luck shot over his shoulder, the sound of a silenced bullet, drawing a red line across his neck. "Now."

That sent the man scrambling.

"Why are you stalling?" Luck asked pouring himself another drink. This was gonna be a long night and Luck had no time for games. There was another problem in town that had been breathing down his neck.

The man froze.

"Ten seconds, Jack. Ten seconds before you and your daughter die."

Jack Quick, ironically, quickly gave in. "Lockyer heads are going for $10,000,000 on the market. Someone really hates you guys. As of right now your family is likely dead." 

"Unlikel-"

"I hear the Asaguy are hunting." He said, slowly as if afraid of Luck's reaction.

"That's...not the best news to tell your potential killer. " Luck knew how capable they were at their job. And their job consisted of only one thing, to kill, efficiently. Luck was uncertain for his family, the necessary precautions were always taken but anything could happen. 

"Please, my daughter leave her alone, kill me if you have to. But her, to die for no reason, because of me? Please." 

"Hmm, I think I'll let the gun decide." Luck pulled the trigger, the quiet was pierced with a single click. Of course, Luck knew exactly how many bullets he had, he even had another fully loaded gun in his other pocket. A little showmanship here and there really padded on the legend of the Amber Demon though. It was the only title that Luck didn't immediately hate and it had been growing on him ever since. And maybe, Luck just couldn't resist a little flair.

Jack let out a ragged relieved sigh and slumped in his chair. 

"I coulda swore I had more bullets. Huh." Luck shrugged, opened the office door, stepped over the dead bodies, and cautiously made his way to his nearest family member. Jack was left alone, heart still pumping.

 Ace was in town too, a dangerous man in his own right. He was a load of trouble and Luck didn't want to get caught off guard. It might have been a blessing that the hit on the Lockyers and Ace's visit coincided. If the Asaguy were really after the most dangerous criminals in the city then they'd be sure to bring their A-game. Ace Vent was one the few people who made Luck bring his, and because of that he'd been on alert all week, still, not a whiff of any suspicious activity. Luck moved against the flow of pedestrian traffic, even if he hadn't noticed anything that didn't mean that the shadows weren't moving. He neared his destination, a crowded building in the middle of the city. A figure darted out of the main entrance and immediately merged into the crowd of people. Moving through crowds of people was an essential skill and Luck drifted through the crowd like a ghost. He gained on her and as he got nearer her movements became panicked and unprofessional, but he knew who this was and for her to act this way did not bode well.

"Tate. Tate!" Amid the din of the crowd he could just barely make out faint sobs.

"Luck?" She said turning around, face smeared with tears and blood. Luck noticed the knife she held under her jacket, the weak grip, the tired arms. Her tone shifted to business. "Luck, they've got Mom and Dad. It's not just the Asag-"

Then there was a hole in her head.

And a small piece of Luck broke as her limp figure slumped on the gray concrete. He knew what death looked like. He knew what a sniper sounded like the second it was shot. Nothing. Nothing but a puppet getting its strings cut. The sound would come later.

Luck had seen so many but each was the same, each death was of someone different but in the end they were all exactly the same, the lights leave their eyes and life goes on, but this was worlds apart. He knew to yell at a dead body, to deny it, would get him nowhere. And yet now he understood why, why so many before him had done so, the searing pain, the pure emotion all of it drove him to do just that. He struggled with himself to let free the tide of emotions or push it down, but for a mind surrounded by morals tinged in gray one finds ways to cope, sometimes in an instant. Luck wanted to scream at the world, to curse the planet, to cry, his emotions were scattered and broken and he wanted nothing more to cradle the body of his sister, and just be. That perhaps she would find comfort in the embrace of her brother, one not even of the same blood.

But he didn't, because there was another emotion that ripped up from his very core.

Suddenly he found one of his old nicknames, one of the ones that didn't stick, fitting better than it ever had before. And as he grasped onto that feeling his eyes regained a measure of focus. In an instant Luck had lost everything and in an instant he had found it again, a shaky grip on some semblance of normalcy, a foothold that would crumble the moment it was used. To Luck it didn't matter, there was but one emotion searing through his being, revenge.

The late sound of a sniper's gunshot pierced the air and Luck glanced quickly at the surrounding highrises as time seemed to resume. He crouched low and searched Tate's body, disgusted at how his training already had him treating her as a corpse to be looted. He pocketed her phone, stole a quick glance to the highrise that was most likely and darted away, getting lost in the panicking crowd.

Unbeknownst to Luck, his suspiscion was incorrect, but his initial wild glance at the surrounding buildings had him staring down the barrel of a sniper for but a moment. Long enough for a trigger to be squeezed, certainly long enough for a professional to take the shot. For a trained assassin? There was no doubt, Luck Lockyer should be dead, but the assassin saw something in the scope of his rifle that gave him pause long enough for his window to close. It was only a moment but it might as well have been an eternity. Perhaps it was the rage on the young man's face, or the way the same emotion dissappeared, finding itself replaced with a small smirk in the span of an instant. It could've been the way the young man's gaze seemed to lock directly upon the scope. It might've been the tears that contradicted both the emotions that flashed across his face. It could've been the eyes from which they fell. Perhaps their color?

The fact of the matter is this, Luck survived. And Luck Lockyer wasn't one to waste time.

 But the rest of that night was one Luck would relive in his nightmares in the days to come, he stopped at a hidden stash and felt no compulsion to dress nice, expecting worse things to come. Sinners talked openly of topics they shouldn't, loose lips spreading rumors fast. There could only be a singular reason for people so low on the ladder to be so carefree and with a heavy gait Luck followed the rumors like a bloodhound trained for a single scent. He found himself returning home. Tufts of grass were stained red, the greenhouse looked abandoned, as if hiding the remains of a long dead people. The moon was covered in gray clouds, invisible against the night sky, had he seen it he might've felt like howling. Luck couldn't tell if the night was devoid of stars or the pollution just obscured them. He didn't take a deep breath, he didn't pause or hesitate, he simply opened the door and walked in. A trail of blood lead deeper into the house. When Luck's eyes found the end of the trail he refused to raise them. He chided himself softly, raising his eyes. He had lost his smirk long ago, but Luck's eyes never stopped sparkling, and yet, they did. Even as lifeless as they had become the color always remained and with it came a twinkle of amber. But that had gone the moment he laid eyes on the corpses. Even in death they had kept the secret of the family homebase, going so far as to die in the decoy, in the event any other Lockyer found refuge below.

"Never fear death, only that you might die too early." His father used to say.

The memory of a funeral came unbidden. It was in an old church forgotten by many, somehow managing to be completely preserved despite being surrounded by the city.

"I like that." Luck said. His mother smiled softly to the side.

"So you're not afraid then? You don't fear it, do you?" Tate would say with a sly smile.

"You calling me old?" He would glare back before conceding a smile.

The memories were stark contrast to the image that filled Luck's view. Rick and Laura Lockyer, aside from the trail of blood leading under their bodies, had their corpses were intact. The scarlet puddle left almost a perfect circle on the kitchen tile. The burning rage he had at Tate's death, flickered as a cold blanket of despair descended upon him. What reason would he have to kill their assassins? What would it give him? What purpose would it serve? It would give him absolutely nothing, he had seen it before. That wouldn't bring his family back, it would be a reprieve but then the feeling of emptiness would return. They would still be dead. All sense of purpose left Luck at that moment. He was good at many things, but those many things made him great for one thing. And there was no reason for it anymore. Not when his family was dead. Not when there was no father to take his tales to, no sister to annoy, no mother to surprise every year. Not one when there was no one left.

"Why." The word echoed against the hanging pots and pans above the kitchen island. Face blank with grief, the only notable feature on the boy was the scar that ran down his face as he left. Even his clothes were plain, not a single accessory or bauble, nothing that drew the eye. Simple denim pants and a black t-shirt.

Luck entered the tunnel system underlying the city, wandering. Where the shadows, solitude, and empty sewers reflected his own lonely self. He walked for miles in random directions, his eyes had adapted to the dark long ago. He was lost and could not even find himself. But then he came across a branching tunnel that seemed older, more worn. It tickled a memory which Luck supressed for fear it might be of his family. The exit was not into a larger sewage canal, rather it ended in a set of concrete stairs that rose to the surface. 

Luck found himself in a lush forest, the smell of the sewer fading behind him, the ambience of the city dissipating as nature took hold. No, there was a concrete path but it was cracked and overgrown from vines and roots from the nearby trees. He looked to the canopy expecting to see colorful birds, thinking perhaps he was on the very outskirts of the city. Instead he saw only still branches and motionless leaves. The sun had risen but it was much too dark to see anything else, he had been walking aimlessly for a long time. He continued on the uneven path for only a minute noting the strange absence of the wind before a structure made itself known. 

It was covered in sprawling green and resided in a clearing with overgrown vegetation. It was strange given the state of the structures integrity and state of abandonment but Luck found it quaint. He was momentarily lost in the sight, it seemed so surreal, so magical. He took it all in and forgot the weights on his soul, if only for a moment. But Luck sighed knowing better than to lean on the belief of any cosmic forces or other such strange powers. He made his own luck after all.

It only took walking into the structure and opening the large wooden doors to determine what it was. If the broken stained glass windows, vaulted ceiling, wooden pews, podium and dais didn't give it away, then the memory certainly did.

"Everyone dies Luck, remember that. Not everyone wants to but it happens to everyone inevitably. Of course, I still want to have as many birthdays as possible." Luck's mom smiled like an angel, her face framed by the stained glass at the back of the church.

"And you will honey." Rick Lockyer smiled gently. "If I ever find a way to bring back the dead, we're faking our deaths and starting over." Luck was a small boy then but the memory seemed to fix on the way his Dad set his jaw despite the jokeful delivery of the statement.

"If I find a way Dad then we can live wherever we want!" Luck was holding onto his sister not even six years old himself yet.

"Like magic!" Tate squeaked right after, loud, but written off as the nonsense of a five year old. 

"Oh, Laura, I never wanted them to have this life." And Rick Lockyer seemed as broken as Luck was now, but his eyes flitted to his children and they lit up with joy, the pieces of him coming back together. Luck realized with a pang that he had seem the same expression many times as a child, before Tate and him had taken to the job. Even then his looks of pride held a small amount of sorrow as he realized the nature of the business they succeeded at. Only with this small memory, in the times when their parent's expressions were less guarded, when his mind was too young to comprehend, did Luck truly understand. Only after they died.

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"I know, honey." She said softly.

Luck had taken a seat as he lived through the memory and when he came to he realized he sat in the same pew his family had all that time ago. It was the middle pew on the right side of the church. It was as if his parents were too fearful of God's gaze but too proud of their children, the two desires warring in their minds before they finally decided to sit in the middle. Luck wondered why they sat where they did. He would never know he realized. Stabbing pains came from within the emptiness that was his heart. 

It was an hour of silence before the first sobs began. Lightly at first, softly, as if he was crying in the face of those he mourned for. Then they were soul rending, wracking his whole body and full of torment. It was an hour of sound. In the silence and the crying both were done for a single family, the most dangerous in the city. The most qualified, talented and capable family for the job. Their experience was also the reason they were the very same people who wanted out the most. He walked to the altar and looked up to the shattered stained glass, remembering a face it used to frame. In a way, they did escape the job.

And the Amber Demon broke into sobs once more.

He knew he was rusty, he had stopped going since he was a child. And he knew it had been years but Luck Lockyer, The Amber Demon - the Broken - prayed earnestly between his heart-wrenching anguish. Kneeling on the rubble strewn floor with shards of colorful glass digging into his knees, he prayed for his friends, hands clasped, that they have the strength to move forward, even if he did not. He prayed for his own death, that he could join his family and start over somewhere nice. He prayed for the killers of his family, for karma to kill them, that they would understand the hearts of those they killed. But foremost in his mind, the prayer dwarfing his other requests, was the chance to start over for his family, for them all to live, like magic.

There was no flash of bright color. There was no portal to the heavens. Divine light didn't shine down from on high. No overwhelming feeling of reverance, no powerful, surging emotion of devotion. No sudden insight into the workings of the world.

But there was a hand on his shoulder where there was none before, and it was not his.

"Luck Lockyer." A soft voice said, no hint of hostile intent. 

"Kill me then, I was wondering when my assassin would show up. I've suffered enough." Luck spat, not even bothering to look up or turn around.

"No, child. I am a goddess. I heard your prayers and have come to answer them. I've not heard any so loud in a long, long time." The voice had a pleasant sound, of windchimes and birds.

"I don't need a goddess of death!" He yelled, is voice echoing violently off the vaulted structure. "I need my family." Luck managed to stifle the cries as tears ran down his face, not one was shed for his bleeding knees. "Nothing can be done anymore, they're already dead."

"I can bring your family back, Luck. " The voice said gently. "I am no goddess of death."

"Magic isn't real, and you aren't either. I'm hallucinating, that's all." Luck whispered softly, hoping to be left alone.

"Luck Lockyer." The voice gaining a soft edge. "The Devil of the Cards, the Bloodless Hand. The Amber Demon. Now, nothing more than a broken man. A shadow, a husk, a dreg of the business."

Slowly Luck rose, ignoring the pain in his knees and turning around. "You bitc-" He paused as his eyes alighted onto the woman, his anger reviving a remnant of a man less broken.

She almost seemed to be glowing.

The sun had come out and her slim figure was framed in the large open doors of the church. Sunlight poured in like honey, and the dull green hues that Luck witnessed were in full vibrancy behind the woman. Outside the lawn was overgrown but he found himself recognizing clovers. The woman wore a simple white loose fitting dress, that somehow hugged her figure like a lover. Her hair was light brown and her eyes were as unnatural as Luck's, they were bright green and looking up at him. Her eyebrows were drawn as she regarded Luck. Suddenly Luck found himself very conscious of his drab state of dress and in admiration of hers.

"The Angel of Revenge, the Quick-" She continued and Luck waited for her to finish, mocking his glorified titles all the way. He took no offense, most of them were stupid. "To be reduced to this." The time allowed Luck to appreciate the difference in height they shared, she came only to his chin.

"You aren't a goddess." Luck said flatly, reigning in his emotions, not daring to hope.

"Not the one you think I am." A ladybug crawled on her hair and it drew the eye, mainly because it seemed so natural. "I can bring your parent's back as well as your sister."

"I'll humor you goddess. I have nothing to live for anyways." He said mockingly, not even allowing himself the tiniest smidgen of hope. "And why are you bothering yourself with a lowly mortal like me, oh great goddess?" 

Luck noticed the way his mood lifted, even the smallest amount, in the face of someone so attractive and he hated himself for it.

Her eyes caught the light as she glanced to the side. "Even the gods need to atone." She said softly hinting at a deeper pain.

There was a slight pause. "When none judge the soul, it judges itself." Behind Luck light came in through the partially shattered windows sending ribbons of color across the floor.

"Wisely put." He could not know the accuracy in which he described the lives of gods and goddesses.

"Why bother messing with the hopes of a broken man? What twisted man sent you to the great Amber Demon? Why?" Luck mocked himself, his voice bouncing off the empty interior of the church to rebound and whip him with echoes of a voice full of scathing.

"I am here on my own volition. Your prayer was answered even as others go ignored. You are a bit of wonder even to beings of immense age. That more than anything drew my gaze."

"Then, a name." He owed his family this much he realized. He would stop his wallowing to investigate a chance at life for his family, and even as he steeled his mind the seed of hope had already planted itself. To the family that adopted him, for those three people that shared not even his blood, he would do much. 

"Pardon?" 

"I need your name." He clarified. "What am I supposed to call the woman - the goddess - who appeared out of thin air?" He stressed.

"You may have it once you accept my bargain." She said quaintly.

"Please then, be my guest. It wouldn't do for me to call the lovely lady  'goddess' or 'miss' the whole time." He gestured for her to begin, his flair for words returning to him. Luck was no stranger to a bargain.

"You and your family will be transported to another world." She paused gauging Luck's reaction. He simply motioned for her to continue. "It is unlike the world you live in, the air is fresh, the trees sing, the mountains dance, the rivers are clear." Her eyes glittered as she spoke. In those eyes he glimpsed wonders of another world. He saw massive mountains somehow older than the ones he knew. He witnessed a society so strangely dressed and was deeply intrigued by their trends. He saw war, pain and suffering. But before he could see any more they dissapeared and Luck was back in the church.

"Seems quite normal for another world." Luck's heart was racing despite his calm demeanor. His years of practice controlling his mental tics and emotional cues kicking in. Had he just glimpsed something real?

"And yet a single glance at this city will tell you all of those things are far from the norm here." She said in distaste. Her eyebrows drawing together, supple lips drawing a thin line. She had a strong point, the air was barely liveable, there were almost no trees and the water had the taste of copper. 

"Please continue my lady. I haven't got all day." She smiled at some hidden joke. Luck did indeed have all day, there was nothing for him here anymore. Listening to the ramblings of a mad woman might ease the pain, if only for a moment. But listen he would because his family deserved this much.

"I will bestow upon you and your family gifts, you and your family will choose from an assortment. They will be given this same offer but to accept is up to them." She said.

Luck waited but she didn't continue. "That's it?" He said when she didn't continue.

"What more could you want? This is a second chance, to start over. Is that not what you wanted?" She asked curiously, eyes flitting up to meet his.

"What level of technology do they possess? Do I keep my body? Has anyone else been transported before? Is gravity the same there? Is this another world or another universe entirely? Do I have to fear the gods of this place? There are so many questions I could ask!" Luck didn't know what possessed him to act in such a way. The weight on his soul lightened the more he took in her surreal appearance. What would possess someone so beautiful to find their way through the sewers and into such a secluded place?

"And here I thought you saw me as nothing but a mad woman." She glanced knowingly at Luck. "I cannot answer your questions without asking one myself. What type of life do you seek to live?" Her small shoulders rose as if to accentuate the importance of the question.

That stopped Luck in his tracks. All he ever knew was living in the underground. The daily routine had been getting up, finding problems, and fixing them. By any means. But if he were to choose the life he lived? He had always lived basically independent from his family for years now. Everything he did was his own responsibility. Every illegal move he made had harmed someone in some way and he didn't care. But now, standing in a forgotten church in front a supposed deity Luck felt an amount of guilt that was not insignifcant. The chance to live another life, far and far away from here... who would Luck Lockyer be? What titles would the man that lived not in the underground but up on the surface, in the sun, have to his name? He did not look that deep within himself, Luck knew who he was when his job was stripped of him. He was a man who appreciated comfort. He had a sense of style and an appreciation of a good show. He was a man who would pay his debts. A man who was dangerous when prodded and had an unhealthy tendency to show off. He was a friend, family man and a killer. But despite the life he lead Luck was always one for the little guy.

"I'd spend it helping." A simple sentence strong in delivery.

"The place I would send you would have many people in need, of that there is no doubt. Rest assured, you would not find yourself bored." A sad look crossed her face but she caught the determination in Luck's gaze. He had gazed past her, not even aware of her stare and memories and regrets flickered in his eyes. 

The lady smiled wide, the flash of white drawing Luck's eyes and for a moment it seemed that sunlight flowed out of the windows, that was simply how beautiful it was. 

"Now, I will answer a single question with truth. On my word as a goddess." She said grinning softly, content.

The response was near immediate. "Do you think i'm handsome?" His intention was clear and Luck smiled from the bottom of his heart for the first time in a day, enjoying the flustered look and blush that crept up her face.

Some time during the interaction he had allowed himself to be convinced. Having this amount of effort applied to a con which would accomplish nothing but break an already broken man seemed unreasonable. Something in his gut just told him the woman was authentic, a feeling he had few times before but that never failed him. And the visions, the visions were too vivid to ignore. That left a single conclusion and burning hope in Luck. And a single glance at the woman sent his heart racing with the knowledge he was talking to a goddess and had the audacity to act so brash towards her.

"You don't even know my name yet!" She complained.

"Ah, but you said I would have it." Luck grinned.

"Leah." She said. "But before we move on-"

"The question." Luck interrupted with a small smirk on his face, feeling he had the upperhand despite his plain attire. "With truth on your word as a goddess, Leah." He reminded, unaware of the opportunity he had thrown away. He said her name slowly as if tasting the name on his lips and smiled.

"Yes." The word was so very small, the answer barely heard, almost shy.

"Then, as you were saying?" Luck saved her the embarassment and plowed on in the conversation, not allowing an awkward atmosphere to befall them. He felt guilty putting her on the spot as well, and slightly fearful of what she could do to him if offended.

"There is one last step before you can be transported. It involves something integral to the world I hail from." She said. "An indoctrination of sorts."

"This seems less like a bargain and more like a gift. What do you get out of this Leah, there must be something?" Luck asked, his sharpness returning to him. "In my world there's no such thing as free handouts."

"A chance to right my wrongs." She answered softly. "Goodbye Luck." And he had the feeling she was about to dissappear as she stepped past Luck, despite the door being the other direction.

"Wait! What are you the goddess of? I never asked." She paused and turned with a flourish.

"Leah, Goddess of Fortune. Of those who know me, my closest friends call me Lady Luck." She smiled, winked and was gone, like magic. 

 Not many things ever gave Luck Lockyer pause, but pause he did. She was a goddess after all.

Pay Heed!

New Quest!

Karma.

Your family's killers are on the loose. Deliver unto them what they have done to so many before them. Let them know the hearts of those they have killed.

Reward:

A second chance at life along with the rest of your family in another world.

"As I live and breathe. Luck Lucky Lockyer." A male voice said from the doorway. 

Luck rubbed his eyes and the strange image that stayed with his vision eventually faded and he looked around. No sign of Leah, not that he expected to find her.

He shifted his attention to the voice. He found a young man holding a pistol in his hand silohuetted in the open doors of the church. He walked forward revealing his face. "If it ain't Ace Vent." There was a long pause. "How many times do I have to tell you that ain't my middle name." They both smiled, putting their weapons away.

"In light of recent events, I thought I'd skip on our usual routine. I'm sorry, man." Ace Vent, dangerous mercenary, high in demand, wanted in several countries, countless kills of crooked men, cooks a mean fettucini alfredo, and most importantly Luck Lockyer's best friend. He had an angry frown on his 19 year old face. "I simply didn't think you'd be up to it, even though I had something planned. Not now."

"No worries Ace. I just met someone rather interesting." Luck said, his face betrayed no emotion. His eyes were sparkling amber.

"And might I inquire who that might be? You seem to be in an empty church all by your lonesome, Lucky." Ace glanced about the room and then questioningly to Luck. The man was well-spoken and his voice had a slow pace. His cocky grin had decieved many, but Luck knew his real personality was slow and thoughtful. "You haven't gone insane have you?"

Ace Vent was the closest thing to a best friend. He was deadly on the job the scant few times Luck had witnessed it. But he moved with a heavy reluctance as if his body was chained to the motions. To one who loved the business and the people in it Luck found the behavior strange. When he finally connected the dots behind the behavior it took him a month, only because the idea of hating the business never crossed his mind. Then an assignment by his father brought Ace Vent into their home and Luck realized what he might've been missing all those years. With recent events hinting at a life on the surface the prospect was not entirely unattractive. Luck stared at him, a decision warring with his training, emotions and general common sense.

"Acen Vent." Ace paused at the sound. The use of his real name giving him as much pause as the sincerity in Luck's voice. "I don't find myself with many friends. The few I have are decades older, resigned to business, weary with old age and friends only of circumstance. Living in this world kids like us have to grow up fast, Ace. We don't have the luxury of a normal childhood or time to make friends. I'll be the first to say it. I always found myself having a strange type of fun planning on your arrivals. The challenge it made me face was invigorating, a thrill I only ever had against the most crooked and cunning criminals but, perhaps the best part of the whole deal was when I lost. Nothing at all, just bragging rights to the winner. A fun that cost nothing, a treasure not many can claim living the lives we do. And so, like it or not Ace you're my best friend in this world. So i'll cut the bullshit and tell it to you straight. Ace Vent, do you want out?" For a moment it seemed that Ace wouldn't respond.

"Acen." He said softly. "Not even my colleagues know that name, Lucky. That means you know a lot more than you should." His hand reached for his pistol... only to rest on the grip. He was smiling wide. "Which means you also know that I sure as hell want out."

 Luck remembered the strange image, he had to avenge the death of his family. Hopefully, Leah would appear so he could arrange passage for Ace. The image could only be magic and the only being of magic he knew was the Goddess of Fortune. This was the indoctrination she spoke of. It had to be. He needed only to avenge the deaths of his family to see them alive again.

"It's not a simple thing, leaving." Ace said quietly, his voice had a particular resonance that captured the attention of nearby ears.

"No, it's not. But first I need to ask you something, Ace."

"No sense in being shy about it, Lucky. You've got a talented knack for knowing things." He said simply, even as his gaze wandered.

"How much to hire you for the day? One last job before we leave this world behind?" Luck said with finality, his words having more meaning than he let on. 

Ace didn't answer immediately, leaving Luck hanging on the sound of his voice once again. "For my new best friend?" He smiled. "Consider it done."

With slight hesitancy Luck explained what happened, the death of his family, his prayer, the goddess, the magic, everything. The telling of the story was more difficult than he thought, even with the promise of their lives. And in his story he found the whole thing rather novel. It was something he hadn't done before with anyone else other than his family, opening up to someone. When he finished there was a moment where Luck knew Ace would have to decide for himself whether he was crazy or not. Despite Luck's training his heart slowed and he could feel himself giving away various tells, though only because his attention was deadly focused Ace's expression as even time slowed. And it was a rather fitting thing that on the holy ground of an abandoned church that Ace Vent found something to have faith in.

"Lady Luck?" He chuckled. "That's rather fateful isn't it?"

Luck gave him a genuine smile. The world had gotten a shade brighter.

Yes, Ace was his best friend, but there wasn't any real competition for him to begin with. In fact the title had as little meaning as Luck's glorified titles. Ace was simply someone he got along with, had no motives for or against, happened to be the same age, and someone Luck found grounding. Luck didn't give loyalty away nor did he believe anyone did. It would have to be earned by both sides. Normally, he would never risk opening himself up to a potential enemy and he wouldn't dare to reveal vital information he had on anyone to that person. But Luck took a leap of faith and offered the information as an olive branch of sorts. It was on a whim and he wouldn't admit it to himself but the real reason he brought Ace into this was simple and selfish. He was lonely.

Luck couldn't have known that the man known as Acen Vent would become his best friend in every sense of the word in the years to come.

"How'd you manage to find me anyways?" He was, after all, in the middle of nowhere. It was surprising that he managed to track him down. The events that led him to the church were a foible on Luck's part, stricken with despair and plunging into the sewers.

"It... was a strange turn of events. Well, less stranger than yours, but strange nonetheless. I was going through my plan, the one for you, and I noticed a man that had appeared every other day, same place, same time. The next day I caught wind of... events that had transpired. I saw the man again and I followed him, finding myself rather bored. Given the readiness of my operation I was simply curious, more so when I found myself in the sewers and then this church. I was almost tempted to turn around as he entered the sewers, but I quite literally had nothing going on." He exited the church and pulled a body from the bushes. It was man dressed in an unassuming garb. It was a look that did well in being unassuming. That is to say it was horribly casual and it showed on his face as Luck searched the body. As expected he found nothing on his person but the tool of the trade.

"My assassin." Luck flipped the body over and glanced at the back of the neck. Sure enough, the symbol of the Asaguy, a two headed snake eating its own tail. "Dressed as horribly as I thought he'd be." Bad fashion sense left a terrible taste in his mouth. Luck recalled his current attire and his mouth soured further.

"Nothing more than string of coincidences. You would have dealt with him yourself had I not been here." The assassin's face was as unassuming as his clothes, as was typical for their work.

"I... was not in the stablest mindset at the time. I think you just saved my life Ace." Luck said surprised.

"Don't worry about it. Something this dreadfully simple for an out? I'd take those odds anyday. It was pure chance I stumbled across the man." Ace looked at the corpse.

"Good fortune, more like." Luck answered recalling Leah's title. His mind lingered on the memory of her face longer than it had to. His knees cracked as he rose to his feet. "Well i'm not paying you to stand around now am I?"

The next few hours were spent tracking down the rest of the assassins. First, they tracked down the sniper that had killed Tate, the bullet Luck pocketed and some insight from Ace had them heading in the right direction. Tate had left some notes on her phone in the family cipher detailing her suspicions. It saddened Luck to read through the last entries but allowed Ace to narrow it down further until they came to single suspect. The man was drinking at a bar not two seats away from Ace who was conversing with the bartender. Luck had chosen a booth against the wall to ensure the killer wouldn't see him whilst also covering the exits. The man got up and went to the bathroom, Ace following closely behind. The place was small, rundown, and gritty. It had a rustic authenticity to it that was uncommon in the city, it attracted enough people but it wasn't quite packed so it surprised him when someone slipped into the booth with him. Especially since it was a man who had been here since they walked in. More so, Luck recognized him.

"Cole?" Luck asked slightly surprised. Mildly suspicious, Luck fingered his weapon. The man had nothing but respect the last time he saw him. At least, that's how they parted ways if not how they met. If he remembered correctly, he apologized and swore to make it up to him. Currently, Luck couldn't see how he could help him since he was about to leave this world anyways. But one learns not to underestimate people in the underground, they're often the most resourceful.

"Mr. Lockyer." He nodded, his posture was straight despite the uncomfortable seats. Luck couldn't help but smirk at the change in his attire. Mr. Dimitri had done him some good. His suit was more than acceptable. A tasteful dark trim without standing out too much, enough distinction for only those with a good sense to appreciate. Luck took a moment to appreciate it.

"What do you have for me?" Though it wasn't arranged Luck handled this like any other deal. There was only one reason Cole would show up, he had something for him.

He removed a black folder from his new suit and slid it across the polished table, a silver watch peaked out from his cuff. "Again, sorry for the hassle yesterday." Then he got up and left. The folder barely reflected the light from the overhanging lamp.

"Like I said, no hard feelings." Luck said to himself, eyeing the folder.

Luck opened the folder and smiled as he flipped through. 

"It's done." Ace said as he slipped into Cole's place. He glanced backward at the retreating figure. "Friend of yours?"

"Of a sort." Luck said, Cole had really outdone himself. "Have a look." He passed the folder to his friend.

Ace sifted through the contents. A single eyebrow rose as he finished. "That's quite the workload off our shoulders." He said.

 "Last page."

"Cain Citzen. The east side drug lord? The south and west side drug lords are here too. They're not Asaguy." Ace remarked, tracing the schedules, security, names, aliases and locations on the file.

"No they're not." Luck leaned back in his chair. "But Tate did mention it wasn't just the Asaguy. In fact, I'd go so far as to assume they hired the hit. The command my family has pertaining to the drug realm might be enough to push them over the edge. We had always lorded over them for greater profits. Without us in the picture the rest of our trade partners would be more open to their dealings. Complete control would shift to them and they'd be sitting pretty. Of course, that normally wouldn't warrant wide scale assasination attempts since this dynamic existed since before I was even born." Luck explained, fully aware the extent to which the Lockyer family had extorted the drug realm. The scale was inconsequential for the underground, these types of things happened everyday, still, that wasn't to say the blackmail was insignificant to the recipients. Luck had done his history homework and shivered with the thought that anyone would have that power over him.

"Should be doable." Ace said shuffling the files.

Five hours later, three targets down, and long infiltration had them at the entrance to an underground bunker in the Citzen residence. Luck popped out from behind the corner and elbowed the approaching guard in the neck, a quick chokehold had him unconsious within seconds. Ace had already moved his guard out of view from the hall, dragging the body a way off to the sides. Before the last guard could react Luck sent a bullet his way, he was too far to subdue. His body fell limp and Luck moved and crouched by the keypad. A second later Ace dragged the body aside and took watch by the corner of the hallway. Luck had no militaristic training, his skillset was tailored towards being deadly and not ever having to. Ace it seemed was trained in group tactics, the dynamic between the two had started off awkward but they had settled into it as the targets dwindled and bodies dropped.

Luck's hands moved with precision and efficiency, removing his toolset and setting into the electronic lock. A need to infilitrate this particular bunker was foreseen years previously, a film that mimicked Cain Citzen's own handprint went onto Luck's hand after he breached the preliminary alarms and codes. He pressed his hand onto the scanner and it beeped red, quickly he used his other hand to apply a sticker onto the camera that would mimick Cain's own eyes and facial structure. Ace glanced his way uneasy at the beeping but Luck was too engrossed in his task to notice. The previous jobs gave him some measure of trust in Ace to watch his back. The light ticked orange and Luck punched in a smattering of random numbers into the keypad as the door's clamps could be heard unlatching. A pneumatic hiss could be heard and the door opened wide enough for them to enter. Luck found the sound strange when paired with the lurid carpet and walls, it was a mechanical sound in a structure that screamed of antiquity. The bullets that followed seemed to sound almost natural however. Luck took cover behind the door.

"Back off! No one should have those access codes! Who are you?" A grizzled voice yelled, he was keeping his panic under wraps.

"The Amber Demon has come knocking Citzen. You shouldn't have killed them Cain. In doing so you've only killed yourself." Luck shouted. That seemed to freeze him solid as the voice didn't immediately answer.

Previously, Luck had already confirmed with the south and north drug lords that Cain Citzen had led the operation. The south side drug lord was the most cowardly, immediately giving up the information, it made his life easier so Luck made his death faster. The west side drug lord was tricky, not in security but actual location, he always moved and his schedule was on rotation. Unfortunately for him Luck had planted sleeper agents in his organization years ago, the west side drug lord died by his most trusted guards and in return Luck promised their secrets went untold, families untouched, and money went into their hands. Surviving long enough to enjoy the rewards was up to them. The north side drug lord was uninvolved and Luck sent informants to him with threat of his life, he recieved a quick response that he was offered a cut of the rewards if he was to join, he refused. That left only Cain.

"I've no idea what you're talking about demon. Leave before you force my hand and I call the guards!" Luck heard a strange click, a thump, and the sound of carpet. 

"Fuck! Lucky, get down!" Ace kicked something and dived towards Luck. Luck's eyes opened wide as he tackled him then the room went sideways. A dull bang reverberated throughout the room and Luck felt himself slammed against the wall before he could even hit the ground from Ace's tackle, it was as if something tried to seperate the flesh from his bones. Then the feeling was gone and only the pain remained.

"Shit-" That was all Luck heard as he saw Ace getting up, his words were warbled and ringing came from everywhere. He was mouthing something to Luck who was still dazed against the wall. "Grenade." Luck realized, his vison was blurred but he could still read lips. Ace was wobbling over past the door, his free hand was supporting him against the walls while his pistol was gripped in his other. The evidence was clear.

Ace had kicked the thing halfway through the door, the door was blackened and bruised but it was still the entrance to an underground bunker so it held as well the rest of the wall. The walls in the hallway faired no better.

Luck got up shakily and tried to pop his ears to no avail. Cain had to have taken just as much damage, Luck was wrong. The door had been only slightly opened on their end and Ace had kicked the grenade past it, meaning the explosion decimated the hallway walls on their right as the force was redirected by the door. On the other side however the blast was uninhibited and contained by the nature of the bunker. Cain Citzen's legs were blown off. His arms were mangled the only things untouched were his face and left shoulder, he had gotten part of his body behind a solid chest at the foot of his bed.

"Lockyers are a plague on the planet." The half man spat, coughing up blood. The addition to the carpet went unnoticed. The whole place was a mess of blood.

Luck only checked his pistol to the best of his ability. The grenade still had him reeling. He took his time making sure everything was in working order. He eyed the sight, ensuring it was aligned. He unscrewed the silencer since the grenade had already alerted the remaining guards. They would be here any minute.

"75% of profits into your pocket, the videos you held are nothing to a dying man! You fucking son of a bitch! Do you have any idea how it is to live under someones thumb?"

"Incessant isn't he Ace?" Luck said as his senses slowly came back.

"You motherfucker! Listen to me!" He shrieked. "I will not die before you pay for what you've done to me!"

"Quite." Ace responded. "Lucky, the guards." Ace said in a more concerned voice.

"There are two ways I see things happening Cain. I can kill you and like you said the videos don't mean anything to a dead man. But they might mean a little something to his family, the guilt will be theirs to eat away at them. I'll show it only to them. I won't reveal what you did to the whole world, don't you worry about that. No, it'll just be your family, only they'll know who you truly are. The world will praise a man who saved countless men and women with cheap and effective medicines. Your family will remember a pedophile and the twisted horrors he commits in private. They will bear the burden themselves and it will eat away at them. A single question will haunt them for the rest of their lives. Do they reveal who you truly are and taint the face of a savior of thousands or protect that image and bear the burden for the rest of their days allowing it to eat away at their conscience? Or you can do me a small favor and the videos never gets out. It's your show, Cain."

"W-what can I possibly do from here you sick fucking bastard?" The drug lord said defeated. Tears traced clear paths on his face. "What can I possibly do?" He repeated, staring at the ceiling, crying silently. Luck refused to feel pity, the man was a sick bastard and Luck blackmailed him even now, but he would never do that to the Citzen family. They were quite nice actually. Luck made a point to invade in Cain's personal life some years back to prove a point. The short times he spent with Mrs. Citzen and her daughters had him wondering how Cain could create such a family. In those short weeks he found that Cain actually loved his family. They didn't deserve any dealings with the life of the underground.

Luck removed the locks and opened the bulletproof window, the bunker was at the edge of a cliff face on the east side of the city which allowed it a window despite being completely underground. He poked his head and looked up, the way was rugged and there were enough handholds that it would be a simple matter of endurance. 

"Think we can do it?" He turned to Ace.

Rapid muffled footsteps approached the bunker, the door groaned as it was opened further and allowed a wave of bodies to enter. A few men vomited as they took in the grisly scene but the leading guard approached hesitantly. Vomit mixed with the blood on the floor and the new smell pushed a few other over the edge. They added their stomachs to the pool.

"B-boss?" An older man paused, not sure if Cain was dead or not. 

Cain's almost-dead eyes peeled from the ceiling to look at them. "Get him! He's crawling up the cliff! What the fuck are you doing here? I'm already a dead man. Now go avenge me!" He screamed.

"Who did this to you boss?" One of the younger guards kneeled down in the blood, trying to offer comfort. "They even got Carl and Miguel outside."

"Leave me boy, find that bastard, piece of shit Conor Jae and make him pay." Then his head fell lifeless to the side, looking towards the bedroom's walk in closet.

"Boss?" The younger guard still knelt, waiting for an answer.

"He's gone boy, let's find the man who did this, so they might rest in peace. Do it for Miguel, Carl and the boss." The older guard laid a hand on the younger's shoulder. "The underground is gonna shake after tonight." It was going to be more of an earthquake after the people that Luck killed. Their places would need to be filled and a power vaccuum of huge proportions would have everyone scrabbling for another rung on the ladder. Needless to say, Luck was glad he was leaving.

The guards moved with purpose out of the bedroom but one paused and walked back in. He actually had the wit to poke his head out the window and peer along the cliff face.  He realized something as his eyes widened and was about to turn around, catch up with the rest, and tell them of his discovery.

Ace pushed him out, shut the window and locked it just in case.

"You're probably right, we never would have made it." Luck followed Ace out of the bedside closet.

"Not a chance in hell." Ace shook his head. "Conor Jae?" Ace said curious.

Luck glanced at Cain's corpse, he was dead for sure. But the man definitely had the last laugh, and Luck suffered a strange respect for him.

"Conor Jae was one of my aliases. Specifically, when I would visit his family. Bastard found a way to flip me off without working a finger." Luck said. "Not that he had any." He glanced at the mangled corpse.

"Would you have done it? What you said you would. It seemed quite... harsh." Ace intoned. 

"Never." Luck only noticed Ace's tension after he answered. Ace visibly relaxed, Luck thought that was him being alert but he seemed even more focused now than he did previously. That tension had come from somewhere else.

Ace never had a family, at least no one to call one, that might've been why he was so uneasy with Luck's threat.

Pay Heed!

Quest Completed!

Karma.

Your family's killers are on the loose. Deliver unto them what they have done to so many before them. Let them know the hearts of those they have killed.

Reward: 

A second chance at life along with the rest of your family in another world.

Return to the church for completion.

Luck was about to tell Ace before he interrupted him."Well, that's a surprise. It popped into my vision just like you said it did." Ace turned around in place. "Stays with you too. Quite interesting, Lucky." 

Luck blinked. "You mean..." 

"Yes I do. We have a church to get to." Ace smiled. "And another world altogether." Ace said it slowly as if just realizing what this meant.

"What's the reward say?" Luck wanted to make sure there was no catch.

"A second chance at life in another world." He read. "There's not another set of words I'd have rather seen." Ace grinned like a man unshackled.

"For that matter, what's the quest say? Mine would be different from yours since they killed my family not yours."

"It says 'Avenge the family of Luck Lockyer. Deliver unto them what they have done to so many before them. Let them know the hearts of those they have killed.' I believe the wording is almost exactly like you recited earlier. Am I wrong?" Ace questioned.

"Good, then let's get going. Time's wasting." It seemed Leah did indeed have a hand in Ace finding him. "I think Leah brought you to me after all." 

They pulled the bodies of the guards outside into the room, being careful to avoid dragging them across bloodstained carpet or pools of vomit. They stripped the bodies and donned the guard uniform. It wasn't even really a uniform as it was a general color scheme. They wore a dark purple collared shirt and a set of black pants. It was simply garish and even between the two outfits there were many differences. One shirt was a lighter shade altogether and one pair of pants had an extra set of pockets. There was no sense of uniformity. The bodies didn't even have their shirts tucked. Luck grimaced.

"How can I expect to find anyone with a sense of fashion here?" Luck grumbled under his breath as he pulled the clothes on. He tucked his shirt and pointedly turned to Ace.

Ace only stared blankly until he understood. He tucked his shirt as well.

They crossed rushing guards and were heading towards the rear west exit. Ace reported through the guard walkies that some strange activity was occuring out at the west side of the mansion. Luck was the first who responded and so their movements weren't questioned any further. Instead, a few guards who were on their way to pursue the alleged Conor Jae turned around and jogged alongside Luck and Ace. They crossed the distance that took hours earlier in minutes, it was easier to move just blatantly jogging through the halls after all.

"Where's the guard who reported?" Luck asked when they arrived.

"No idea, he must be around here somewhere though. Protocol states you stay put to direct the calvalry." One of the guards said. "Not that anyone would be stupid enough to attack this place."

"Well someone got away with it." Luck snapped, getting into the character he created.

"Maybe he went off ahead? He did report suspicious activity outside the mansion." Another chimed in, this one was female.

"Can't hurt to check it out." Ace said as he walked out the door. "There! How'd he get here? It's Jae!" He shouted almost immediately as he exited, running full sprint.

"Where is he?" The male guard yelled, rushing out. 

Luck came up behind the woman before she could follow and put his gun to her head. She stilled instantly, allowing Luck to choke her out rather than kill her and risk the gunshot. She jerked in his hold but was otherwise silent.

"He ran down there!" Ace placed his hand on the man's shoulder.

"I don't-" The man was cut off as Ace laid him on the ground unconscious. Immediately, both bodies were dragged and dropped into the nearest bushes.

The men darted off into the surrounding neighborhood eventually losing themselves in the dark alleyways and damp passages of the city. 

He only made one stop on the way to the church. There was a payphone hidden in the city, in plain sight really, at least to anyone looking for anything. Ace leaned against the outside as Luck entered the booth. It was an info dump, Luck would leave locations, directions, hints, clues etc that were too delicate to speak of over phone in the booth. A hidden recorder was taped under the phone box. Luck recited bank accounts, passwords, and hidden caches that all consisted of clean and legal money. He did this all in senseless phrases however. Phrases like "Cat, dog, bird." or "John's left apple?". They wouldn't mean anything except to the people that had proved themselves as decent human beings at some point or another in their dealings with Luck. Sometimes the inflection on a word could indicate either a train station locker or the instructor of a ballet class. Of those who knew of this particular hub of information none dared betray it, simply because most things that came of it were helpful to each individual that stopped by. The type that came to this payphone were both good hearted and trustworthy. Luck had monitored each new person he brought in and none even entertained the idea of staking out the place. It would be incredibly hard given the public area and regular use of the payphone to discern who else stopped by for the recording, but the fact none had tried to spoke of their worth. When a person was proved worthy Luck would leave them a note that would direct them here at a specific time. At first, they would be skeptical but it would then be integrated into their daily or weekly schedule.

"Masa toro with caviar." Luck said as he retaped the recorder to the phone box.

Many people would come across the recording, few would recognize his voice, most would write down the entire thing, some would understand. Of those who did, many would be confused when they arrived at the destination. Just money. Bags full and no catch at all. Only a scant few percent would understand the ramifiications of what this truly meant before the power vaccuum hit the underground. They would be the ones who recognized Luck's voice, who were informed enough to know about the assasinations, family, drug lord, and Asaguy, and clever enough to glean true understanding of the free money once they found it.

The Amber Demon was leaving.

The recording was to be deleted at the end of every week. It was deleted by the same man every week since the day Luck anonymously tasked him with the job years ago. He was to arrive 4:15am, listen and delete. He left the message pertaining to this man last on purpose in order to ensure he would wait till the very end before he deleted the recording.

"Done?" Ace was leaning against the door.

"Yeah, that should leave some power in the hands of those who mean well." Luck took a deep breath. Bright lights lit up nearby shops and the intersection but few people were walking. The crowd was enough to dissappear in though. In short, the city was sleepy.

"We've all the time in another world, might as well enjoy the last winks of this one. You're certain you have no other business?" Ace said trying to pierce the haze of artificial lights.

"None that were not just solved. What time is it now Ace?" Luck asked.

"Nearly 4:10." He responded.

"Let's go then." Luck began to walk.

"Leaving already, Mr. Lockyer?" Apparently the dwindling crowd was enough to appear from as well. Luck nearly jumped out of his skin, the whole night had him on edge.

"Mr. Ark." Luck nodded his head, outwardly regaining his cool. "What brings you here in the dead hours of the night?" Luck's heart was beating hard. He wanted to say goodbye, he wanted to say farewell to everyone he called a friend, but no one could know. That would put them in danger once everyone found out the Amber Demon was responsible for all this chaos. His mouth practiced words that went unsaid.

"Just a stroll Mr. Lockyer. It is a lovely night is it not?" Mr. Ark said. "A little less polluted than it normally is." He chuckled. 

"I'm off to the Drear house, business as usual you might say." It was a believable gambit, the Drear's were well versed in tracking and following paper trails, they were right down the block too. If Mr. Ark knew of the assassinations then he wouldn't find it suspicous for Luck to find some capable trackers.

"I do believe they're off on Fridays?" Mr. Ark said.

Luck paused, that would explain it.

"You're right. I must be out of it. I'll need to find someone else available."

Friday was the day the recordings were deleted by Mr. Ark.

"And why not your young friend there? Even an old eye can recognize Ace Vent, if not for his voice earlier." Mr. Ark smiled like a grandfather pretending to be fooled by the antics of his grandkids.

Ace was sitting on the planter nearby. He seemed like any other pedestrian, just taking a break. He scratched his head embarassed and gave up the facade. Luck looked back to Mr. Ark, his voice had a sharp edge to it, a far cry from just seconds ago.

"Do not take me for a fool, Mr. Lockyer. I deserve that much, especially after you plan to up and leave me with incompetency on all sides." Mr. Ark gave a sad, faraway look. "I've lived this life longer than most." He said.

"H-how... how did you know?" Luck was caught off guard but realized he should've expected Mr. Ark to know. He learned of handful of skills from the man back in the day.

"With the deaths of your family, then immediately their assassins? I could only assume the south, west and east drug lords had something to do with your families assasinations that you had to kill them too." Mr. Ark said.

"That's quite an assumption to make." Ace said as he approached. "A giant leap in logic even, to assume Lucky would go and kill for revenge and so quickly as well."

"Well, not all of Mr. Lockyers agents are completely his own. Loyalties strengthen with time, and I've been around longer than you two combined." 

"My north side informants... they're in your pocket?" Luck asked surprised.

"Your west side sleeper agents too. They report to me, in the end I let them go, the Lockyers were as much my family as they were yours. You might have been adopted Luck but I had become Rick's brother years before you were even born, something I never even realized how true it was until the day he told you to call me Uncle Ark." Mr. Ark's eyes were wet and the years were showing on his face, but he remained stoic. Nothing but the moist eyes gave anything away, but the man had trained Luck in watching for those tells. He was much older than Rick Lockyer but they had become fast friends his death must pain Mr. Ark as well.

"Mr. Ark... that sounds familiar." Ace's voice was soft. "Ark..." He repeated thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.

"I've kept you long enough, surely you have somewhere to be. I take it you don't want me to delete the recording today?" Mr. Ark said.

"Even that, huh?" Luck smiled sadly.

"Please. The day you officially entered the business I get a note that instructs me to do this. An idealistic overachiever like you would be the only one to come up with something like this. An info dump to help those with the purest hearts, big or small? Luck, I'm not that stupid. Me, your most trusted family friend and instructor, and on the day of your indoctrination?" Mr. Ark rose an eyebrow.

"Uh..." Luck was bright red. His younger self was indeed very inclined to change the nature of the business, maybe he was a little blinded by it as well, that he didn't notice himself be discovered.

"No...you're... " Ace's eyes widened to saucers. "Estuji the-" 

"Off with you. Goodbye, Luck."

"Goodbye, Uncle." Luck responded, walking off.

Ace took a moment staring at Mr. Ark's back before following Luck under the awnings of the nearby shops.

"That was... " Ace began, still lost for words.

"Yes." Luck decided there would be no need for secrets anymore.

"And you learned from him?" 

"Correct." 

"Damn, I find many of the mysteries surrounding the Amber Demon answered then." He said.

Later that day, Mr. Ark would follow the lone clue that Luck had left him  'masa toro with caviar' and would find himself lost. Nothing he would try would dig up any leads. A hidden message? A code? Lost, he would tell Ernie to whip up the dish and would find himself a seat, not really knowing what to do, hoping for some inspiration. Ernie would pop out of the kitchen with a single plate and lay it in front of him. And Etsuji Ark would simply stare at the plate, dumbfounded, before breaking out in hearty laughter. To know that his closest and most trusted cook worked for the Amber Demon. For upon his plate lay a ribboned note that explained everything. And Etsuji Ark would believe, because what else could he do? Without a word Ernie would bring him the real meal and when Etsuji finished Ark's Dishes would be completely empty, save for the goddess across from him.

An hour later Luck entered the church with Ace beside him.

"Wh-" Ace began before multicolored lights engulfed the entire place.