Coldness hung in the damp air, permeated by darkness. The sounds of water droplets hitting a small puddle on the cracked ,concrete floor could be heard rhythmically. An accompaniment to that sound was the constant ,annoying buzzing of an old ,worn out lightbulb hanging on a cable with torn insulation, hooked under the ceiling on a bent ,rusted nail.

The weak ,pitiful light that showered down was pale and instead of cutting away the dark, it was more accurate to describe it as if mixing with it.

The rooms walls were made of concrete, covered in old flaking paint and random old pipes with strings of brown material that used to be white, stuffed in connection points, running along the ceiling and cracked walls covered in moss and rot.

In the corner, there was some old and forgotten equipment stuffed in a weekend crate under a bent metal table, on it, empty vodka bottles and blood splatter. Thrown haphazardly was an empty wallet.

The middle of the room was occupied by a lone metal chair basked by the weak light. Rusted, yet thick and reliable, it now carried the weight of an unconscious man.

An immense weight it was, enough to make the chairs material groan under each breath, it whined as the naked chest of the man rose up and down. His scrubby chin dug deeply into his pectoral muscles, nestled in there as drool and blood flowed down from his burst lips. Curiously, the swelling went down in mere hours , on the whole body at that. Only bruises left as testament to the crimes of violence. His massive arms were bound behind his back, connected to the chair legs using zip ties. Digging into his wrists as his fists remained clenched tightly in his sleep.

The cold, damp air made goosebumps and perspiration appear on any exposed skin, hairs stood on their end. Huge metal doors unrigged with a laud groan, and jankyly, it opened, letting in a bit more light. A man stepped in, dressed in a jumpsuit , of normal build. A typical Sebastian. Short cut hair, wiry build, jumpy with huge unblinking eyes.

He entered with a bucket of water, and unceremoniously splashed Luke’s head with it, the black hair sticking to his scalp like a hood.

He woke up groggily as the cold droplets seeped under his eyelids and flew down his chin, turning crimson from the dried blood they washed away.

Refreshing.

He looked upwards, and with that movement his neck and back cracked loud enough to startle the Seba.

Wordlessly, he gazed upon him from under the messy kelp like hair. That gaze had weight to it, it petrified.

He unconsciously stepped back, then, as If offended by his own actions frowned his face and puffed his chest up.

“You done fucked up now dude, don’t know what that shit was about but that mess you did back there ? Nu uh, I can get the issue with „the Blitz” assholes but you crippled them, almost killed the fat bastard. We had to call the police, ambulances, bad for business dude, bad for business.” He walked around him while speaking, circling him like a predator.

“Don’t know who the fuck you are or if you are just plain stupid, but this is Bald Mike’s place and you going fucking ballistic can’t go unpunished, we will-“ he stopped as the head of the bound man suddenly snapped and focused on him once again.

“Baldy Mike? Hah! I thought he was residing over White Stone, the Sand Mountain is quite out of his reach.” Lukas interrupted the man, surprised and thinking out loud.

“Don’t act like you’re all buddy buddy with the boss! That was years ago! He took over the Sands and runs this hood, now fucking -“ again, Luke interrupted him, this time by the use of a roar like grim laughter that shook the man.

“Is he here? Doesn’t matter, just contact him and send my best regards, from UnLucky Luke” he finished with a morbid smile that left no room for debate.

The man was dumbstruck and uncertain now, doubting if he should proceed with the beating or notify his boss. If the man is bluffing, he will get yelled at for wasting his time, on the other hand if it’s someone important he will get his fingers broken for touching him.

He measured him from head to toe, and after a brief moment of thought decided to call the boss, he was on the top floor either way so a short walk won’t be an issue.

Wordlessly, he left and locked the iron doors behind himself with a loud clank and the sounds of few locks being secured.

Luke just exhaled deeply, disappointed by himself and the shit he got into, again. And by the fact that he had to use his past and that fucking nickname again, it always infuriated him, he was still seething after his touching catching up session with his old man and wanted to forget about the past and of course he now had to relive it more.

*Unlucky indeed* he snorted in disgust. His head once again dropped onto his chest and he focused on the damages, with a quiet whisper he released the bodily restrictions and allowed the magic to blood his senses anew.

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They stormed his mind in waves, and he relished the moment. He felt complete again, he felt his own powers embrace him, making him more competent, more dangerous, just simply more.

His body shook slightly as he readjusted to the sights, smells, touch, his wills reach.

He couldn’t even say how long this took, so engrossed he was in the moment, the process.

He tracked how the mana spilled and pumped vigor within him, while also touching and experiencing using ambient energy and his own mental and magical, to scour his surrounding. The whole room, down to millimeter details became known to him, in his mind it blazed like lightning.

The outward magical sense, he noticed, it was almost tactile, not really like laying your hand on an item, it was more comperable to walking around with your eyes closed, and feeling the closeness as you pass next to something, that brush of air that we subconciously recognize. A primal sense that could be honed.

He focused more, and as he closed his eyes to the physical, the paiting of magical came to focus. Inch by inch, he spread his awarness. He could feel the coldness of the floor, how damp it was. But it was an out of body expierience. He remembered when he watched some video about people who lost their limbs, the phantom limb syndrome, how they could feel the pain in the missing arm, how they could still feel the burned skin on a mising leg, how they could swear they could move it and expierience with it, even as it was missing. Luke could get that.

He now felt as if... a clump of etheral hair traveled in the space his mind expanded on, and reacted to everything it touched. Passed on that information and filtered through it more and more as he focused deeper.

It wasn't just touch or temperature, he could recognize the scarce amount of ambient mana the space he infused with his will contained. With a bit of effort he could segrate it's properties. By his wish, he could force it to move, shape, form. By suffusing the strands he used to expierience with his own mana, he could form and express his own magic.

He brushed the threads further and further, along the surface and in the air, it was inconsistent, in constant motion, weaving and flowing like the ocean during a storm. Luke understood that it reacted to his subconcious, tumulous as it was, it was guided by his will.

He untangled the weave and spread it out further, his eyelids twitching as more and more information flooded his mind. It was disorienting, the „depth” of space and how he was filling it out. His minds palace created a simulation of his surroundings, but it was hard to keep the image steady, it shifted together with his focus. Some parts blurred while others became more detailed. It was like playing whack-a-mole with his own focus.

Even the shadows were in constant motion, swirling, moving, whispering. The power they represented was in constant flux, depthless, with so many uses to it, it was hypnotizing.

He took a moment to blanket himself with the senses and almost shut it off instantly as his inner viosion flared. Looking at his own body from outside, comprehenisvely and in detail he was startled. The ring did not block his own senses so what he saw was the naked truth, and the truth was...startling.

He knew his body was damaged, the fight with Klaus was extremely costly, but even though he had no idea how his magical system looked like before, he was sure it wasn't supposed to look like this.

His skin emited wafting fog of twisted energies. In sync with his heartbeat and breath, mana mixed with emotions surged and spewed from him in a blinding fireshow. Blood energies, vitality, thermal energies, vibrations, his body was spewing them unrestrained and visibly without control. The heart, it was dampened like he imagined, but he had no idea it was so ripped for lack of a better term.

He frowned as he delved deeper.

The Void Vein pierced it thorougly, surrounding flesh pale and stuck in semi corporeal state. Getting further from the vein it turned to pure energy, now covered in ash but unmistakeably still containing powerful, primal energy to it. But the channels, the pathways extending into him were severed, damaged or scorched. He was not suprised he had issues using his powers now, he was more suprised he could even use them at all.

Suddenly, someone opened the metal doors swinging them open with force and they clashed against the wall, resounding loudly.

Lukas was startled and lost his concentration, it hurt as the senses untangled and rushed rapidly into his mind, causing one massive headache as disorientation hit him.

He could hear someone saying something but it took him a moment to recollect himself. He opened his eyes and raised his head up slowly, it was throbbing with pain. The smoky blurrs of light regained their shape and two men stood in front of him.

The Seba, and a tall, bold guy with face tattoes dressed in a sleak, pearl white shirt.

The diffrence between the last bald guy Lukas met, the fat one, the diffrence was immense. This one was well groomed, with the head almost shining more than the disco ball on the dance floor. The shirt was visibly expensive and unblemished, on a moderetly muscled torso, highlighting the tattoo covered arms. It was rolled up, revealing the forearms and bringing the clenched fists into focus, with knuckles covered in a thicc layer of scar tissue and calluses.

Lukas smiled, chortled and started laughing with hoarse, raspy voice.

The Sebastian was immidietly enraged, thinking this a slight from the bound giant, he stepped to him and punched him across the jaw.

„WHO THE FUCK YOU THINK YOU'RE LAUGHING AT?” He yelled and punched once again. „HUH?! Say something you chuckle fuck! How dare you laugh at the boss!!” He raised his elbow to hit for the third time yet stopped as he saw no reaction from the man, he wasn't even looking at him. His eyes were focused on his boss, and the smirk did not leave the mans lips even as he spit out some blood.

„Hi there Baldy, long time no see.” He said as if meeting a friend in the middle of a street.

A silence followed.

Muffled hissing escaped Baldies mouth, it quickly transformed into a full blown laughter.

„UnLucky Luke, well I'll be damned, long time no see. Did you get bigger?” He asked chuckling.

„Yeah, I hit puberty finally” He snapped back.

„You hit alot of stuff you fuckhead, you know how much trouble you caused?”

„Oh, you know me, just the usual amount I would say...” A moment passed and both bursted out in laughter.

„Yeah, I know, that's why you never got an invitation here you bastard. Why are you here, I heard you dropped the past, went to Uni, why are you back? I did hear your Pa's house got flamed, was that you?” He asked as his forearms clasped each other.

„Oh you know, some father-son bonding time. But really, no, he doesn't know that I'm here and you better fucking keep it that way.” His tone of voice changed rapidly from friendly to an order.

Seba did not take that well. He rushed once again and slapped Luke across the face.

„Don't you dare to command Boss you little maggot! KUGH!” He screamed at his face, but was unable to react to what followed after the slap.

The bound man turned into a blurr of motion that quickly covered Sebastians field of vision, like the veil of the night, darkness fell on him.

The sound of zipties breaking snapped in the air, and before it was even fully processed a masive hand clasped his neck. It squeezed and Seba's eyes bulged out. The only thing his mind could process was the immense strenght and the fear of the huge man, whose head was covering the lone lightbulb and stealing the light.

But the movement didn't stop there, with ease, Lukas tightened his muscles and raised the man into the air, his legs shaking violently as they lost their footing. His fingers tried to dig into Luke's forearm, but it was as if trying to dig into wooden beam. The skin was pulled taught and impenetrable, the muscles rigid and tough.

Sebastian was panicking.

Lukas was bored. He stretched his other arm into the air and circled it to move his shoulder a bit while breaking a yawn. As he finished, he looked into the eyes of the Seba, which were almost coming out of their orbits and were dyed red with burst blood vessels.

He looked to the Bald Mike, and reacting to his pleading and tired look, he just chuffed and uncaringly threw Sebastian to the side, crashing him into the metal table that folded around him under the pressure like a tin can.

He turned his body facing Baldy and asked:

„So, how have you been?” and he extended his right palm towards him.