Prologue

In an airport, a young girl stepped out of an airplane as holograms of advertisements tried to pull her attention. She clutched a beat-up-looking teddy bear, its ears almost ripped off and hastily stitched together. She wore an old shirt with similar rough stitches, the misspelled words on the front of it marking it a counterfeit, despite the accurate image of the cartoon figure below the words.

She was a tiny thing. Her skin was a dark tan, and her hair was long and curly, the black color so deep it seemed to shimmer in the light. Her thin arms tightened around the teddy bear as she looked around the bustling airport.

An advertisement called out to her. “Hello, sweetheart!” the blue-red image of a cartoon duck cried. “Why don’t you get your mom to take you to the world-famous Machitou Airport toy store!? All the toys you could ever want, like-”

The tiny girl stepped away from the duck, wincing.

“Layla,” an older woman with dark chocolate skin wrinkled from decades of smiling, walked up behind her. Her palm had a small device in it that projected a hologram into the air. The image faded as she closed her fist. The woman smiled, her teeth shining. The young girl stared, fascinated by their brightness. “They’re on their way. You ready?”

“...”

The black woman sighed, her smile fading just a bit, before it returned.

“There they are!”

She snapped her head around to where the woman was pointing, her chocolate eyes staring openly.

Three people were coming towards them. A Caucasian woman, Asian man, and Asian boy a little older than her. All were dressed in very nice clothes, though the boy had a black eye that made the small girl wince to look at.

The woman of the group gasped, hands rising to her face. She came forward almost too fast, the small girl flinching. When the woman saw she hesitated, the man rubbing her shoulder gently.

The woman came forward. The young girl stared at her as the woman kneeled down, the man and the boy hovering just behind her.

“Hi sweetie…” the woman’s voice was soft. She slowly brought her hands forward, taking the young girls hands in hers. “Do you know who I am?”

“...You’re my mommy?”

The tiny girls eyes were wide. Her voice almost cracked as she spoke, filled with the hope of a child.

The woman sprang tears from her eyes, clutching the young girls hands almost desperately. “Yes, that’s right! I’m your mama.”

The young girl stared at her. Then she smiled.

The woman clutched her close, the tiny girl almost disappearing into her tight yet gentle hug.

Layla was smiling, crying just a bit. Over the womans shoulder, the Asian man moved forward and shook hands with the black woman, saying something before the woman walked away from the four of them, smiling.

“Come on, sweetie,” her new mother clutched her close, rising up and walking away with her. “Let’s get you home.”

“Any chance I can hug her too?” the Asian man said. He looked serious, but gave Layla a quick wink that made the young girl giggle.

“Not a chance,” the woman joked. Layla played with the woman’s beautiful golden hair.

They came to a nice car. Not a hovercraft, but still very shiny. The woma-Mama, finally let go of her, gently placing her in the back. She placed a palm on Layla’s cheek, the girl leaning into the feeling of warmth for a moment.

Then everyone got into the car and the Asian man began driving.

In the backseat, Layla clutched her teddy bear and shyly looked at the boy. His black eye looked so painful, purple at the edges.

“H-Hi…” she said to him.

The boy didn’t answer. Instead he reached into a pocket, his knuckles red and raw looking. After a moment, he pulled out something. Then he finally turned to look at her.

He looked so serious. Was he mad at her?

“...I’m Yun.”

He held out his hand and placed something in her lap. A pink piece of candy. He didn’t smile, but he gently patted her head.

“I’m your brother.”

Layla’s smile was bright as the sun.

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Chapter 1

Yun-Seong Kaneda

I rushed after him from the rooftops as he ran down the alleyway, dropping from the six-story building to meet him.

One arm snapped out, the familiar hiss of gas coming from my wrist. A whining sound filled the air as the metal line shot through the air, the magnet on the end of it attaching to a wall. Neon light shone down while the engine on my back whined a bit, reeling back the line through the rig going along my arm.

All my downward momentum was converted into forward movement, swinging instead of falling.

I shot through the air, getting pulled along at high speed. With a small flick of my wrist, the magnet on the end deactivated, the line getting pulled back to snap back into place.

Just like that, I was in freefall. The humidity of the nearby ocean slipped past me as I dropped towards the alleyway below me. I landed in a roll, slapping the ground before snapping to my feet and rushing forward again.

He was still running. For such a big guy, he could move pretty quick, his old bomber jacket waving in the air behind him.

I paced myself, letting him lead the way. We crossed a street, neon lights shining down from above. A set of drones flying by moved into formation to make the images of a variety of advertisements.

As my target pumped his fat arms, delivery guy on an old scooter almost ran into him.

For a moment, when he hesitated, I thought he’d come to his senses. Instead he booked it across the street, into the next alley.

I moved around the scooter driver and followed. I tapped my watch, an dual-holo one with red and black to it. I spoke into it while running.

“Coming your way.”

He moved deeper into the alley ahead. I knew what he was thinking. If he could make it into the next street, he could catch the eyes of a cop. They wouldn’t be able to catch me, but it would keep me away from him for another day. He passed a dumpster. The lights of the next street shone on my face. His pace hurried.

A small figure landed on him from above.

“UGH!” he screamed, landing on the rough pavement.

The small figure rolled to her feet. She was a couple feet shorter than me, her blue-green hair pulled up into buns that gave her a couple of extra inches. Cybernetic lines on her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, and her throat shone in the light, and the smile she gave me was wide and infectious.

“Got him,” she grabbed the larger man and lifted him up, pushing him face first against the wall. “Dan, what the hell are you doing?”

“Running, what do you think, bampot!” he said in a harsh Scottish accent. His black hair was filled with sweat, his five o’clock shadow covered in bits of oil. He spun around and swung at her.

I grabbed his fist and shoved the overweight man back. He slapped back against the wall, glaring at us. “Damnit, Dan, you think we want to do this?”

“If you don’t want to, then stop, damnit!” he scowled at the both of us. “Layla, I used to look after you when yer parents went to work and Yun couldn’t sit. You’re really going to shake me down like this?”

At that, Layla flinched, her smile fading. I pushed forward before he could guilt trip us further.

“Dan, we came after you because we know you. Sam wants his money, and he was going to send heavy hitters after you. You want to be running from bampots who want to hurt you, or you want to talk with us?”

“The fuck is the difference?” he leaned back against the metal behind him, glaring between us. “I don’t have Sam’s money.”

I stared at him for a moment. He glared back, challenging. His right eye was an old cyber unit. I’d seen it back when it was new. Now it was scratched up, the light in it buzzing infrequently, and the grey steel around his pupil contrasting with his green left eye.

But he was telling the truth.

“Dan…” I couldn’t help my disappointment.

He flinched, losing a bit of his edge. “Goddamnit. Would have been better to get jumped by Sam’s boys. Rather than have you pity me.”

“We don’t pity you,” Layla said softly. She was a bad liar.

Dan rubbed his face. “...I’m supposed to get his money in a week. He tell you what to do to me if I can’t pay?”

“Send you to the hospital.”

“Ha. Yeah. Fair enough.”

“I… we don’t have to-” Layla began to say.

“Yes you do, girl,” Dan smiled sadly. “Okay. Do your worst.”

Layla looked up at me, her eyes shining with sadness. I felt the same way.

I swallowed it down, and stepped forward. “Okay… I’m gonna do enough to bruise you. But nothing irreparabl-”

“Shut the fuck up and hit me.”

Fair enough.

I raised my arms. The sound of flesh being beaten filled the air for a moment. I tried to be quick, but it still felt like forever. Beating on someone who is trying to stand still for it is… sickening.

When it was over, Dan was on his knees. He spat out blood. The palms of my hands felt a little painful. I watched for a moment, not looking back at Layla.

He coughed again, then struggled to his feet.

“Can you walk?”

“I’ll have to,” more red shone on his teeth, and he swayed. “Can’t have you be seen helping me there.”

I clenched my fists, then unclenched them, the movements feeling heavier than normal. I felt like I’d… broken something. Not on Dan. Something beyond that, between the three of us.

Layla and I stepped aside. He struggled away, hissing in pain. We watched him for a long time, until he turned the corner.

“...Let’s go home.”

She didn’t answer me. Just raised her hand. A line snapped out, attaching to the roof above before she was pulled up into the air. I watched her gracefully flip around before firing her line again and swinging off. I followed with a heavy sigh, watching as she flipped around like a hummingbird in the air.

It would be worth it. Had to be.

For now. Avoid the cops. Head home. And get some rest. Then do it all tomorrow.

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The first time I entered Machitou City was at night. I was flying overhead in a plane next to my , just 11 years old and still bruised up from my last fight. When we dropped out of the clouds and approached the Austrailian Coast, I think my jaw dropped. I thought the city was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. A whole splash of neon across brilliant white and black buildings, blue lights shining alongside them, small drones flying across the landscape. All of it set against the ocean.

I still thought the city was beautiful even now. Magnet line hopping gave me a view that only rich corpos got in their fancy hovercrafts. Whenever I was pulled up above the city and felt the line loosen up, flying over the neon set against a black background, it was like I was eleven again.

Then I’d feel gravity take hold. Pull me back down into the city. Still neon, but no longer set against black. Instead it showed the Slums in all their ‘glory’. Dark streets, cracked concrete filled in by pale white, rusted steel, and the smell of old garbage going back centuries.

I landed on a roof and rolled forward to distribute the impact. Then I looked upwards.

She was there. Flying overhead, mid-flip. Layla really was amazing. She treated magnet lining like an artform honestly. I never really got as into it as she did. For me, the magnet lines were just a way to move around quick. I fired a line, it attached to a building, and I got pulled forward. That was it.

Layla was different. When she used the mag-line it was like seeing a bird in motion. I watched her almost float down towards the city, then back up as her line pulled her back, her body twisting into the air in a spinning burst of speed.

That was my sister. Poetry in motion.

She landed next to me, smiling. “Hey. You taking a break?”

I shook my head. “Nah. I just want to walk home. Mom doesn’t want us going through the window again.”

Layla frowned. “Oh. Right… Yeah, okay.”

I knew she was disappointed that we couldn’t just keep magnet lining. Still. Better this way.

We walked over to the stairs. I flipped my hoodie on and placed my hands in my pockets, keeping my gaze low. Side by side, we entered the Slums. Home.

The bazaar was open. Then again, when wasn’t it? In between the massive forest of skyscrapers above, the whole place was alive and bustling.

Layla skipped along next to me, her turquoise hair glowing in the neon lights. The smell of food filled the air from the outdoor food stalls we passed, oil and cooking vegetables mixed with the rare smell of fish and meat, though the scent of rot and garbage joined it, the combination of sweet and sickly scents giving the air a heady feel.

My sneakers sank just a bit too deep into a puddle, and I winced at the cold feel of water soaking into my socks. We passed by a building with pink light coming out of the door, some of the working guys and girls giving us a friendly wave. They knew we weren’t buying, but they were still good folk.

A police hovercraft floated just above the ground in front of the old ramen restaurant. Layla and I stayed close together as we walked past it, my eyes catching sight of the officers inside eating. We walked quickly.

At the edges of the bazaar, the sounds of music filled the air. Layla gravitated towards them.

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An older man and woman sat back to back on a concrete platform. Well, I say platform. It was supposed to be a fountain, but it was missing that critical ingredient, water. So instead, it was a platform.

The man was beating on drums while the woman strung on a guitar, singing gently. While the mans only cybernetic was his brass-colored jaw, the woman’s arm was robotic, split in two at a set of hinges in the center to be able to play the dual strings. She gave us a grin, her eyes spinning briefly to focus on us.

“Layla and Yun! What are you two doing out so late?” she asked as Layla raised a hand and brought up her watch.

“Oh you know, stretching our legs,” Layla joked as she tapped at the image floating over her watch. I noted her sending the pair some money to their accounts, and their watches lit up with notifications.

I wanted sigh. Damnit Layla. We didn’t have much to spare as it was.

Rather than commenting on that, I continued walking.

“Oy, kid,” the man grunted at me, still beating his drums. “Too good to say hi?”

“Never,” I said back. “Just need to head home. Have a good night, Raz, Damon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the man, Damon, waved me off, while Raz grinned, sharing a conspiratorial look with Layla.

We walked away from the bazaar.

“...Are you mad at me?” Layla mumbled when I refused to look at her.

“We don’t have much.”

“Neither do they.”

“Doesn’t mean we can give away what we have. It’s good to help. But we can’t do it if we don’t help ourselves first.”

“Raz has payments to-”

“She’s a grown woman, with a husband. She doesn’t need help as much as you-”

“I don’t need help.”

I shut my mouth. We continued in silence as the Slum began to darken. This far from the richer part of the city, there weren’t any advertisement holograms. A few signs and posters here and there, but nothing that needed maintenance.

It was almost peaceful. Almost.

I heard them before I saw them. There was the sound of heavy boots on concrete. I stopped. Layla adjusted her shoulder and I heard the sound of her magnet line powering back on.

They came towards us. Four of them. I lowered my hoodie and looked around briefly. Make that six, two more were coming from behind. Two women and four men, all older than us. One matched my height and outweighed me by a bit. I kept him in my peripherals, but also noted the woman with the wrapped fists and a magnet line of her own.

Magnet line tech wasn’t exactly rare, but it was tough to use without experience. She clearly had that experience.

“Hey you, Yun,” the one with the heavy boots chuckled as they surrounded us. “How’d the job go?”

“It went.”

“Went?” he laughed again. “Damn, you really are an unfriendly shit.”

“Is that what we are? Friends?”

“Well, we both work for Sam, don’t we?” he stopped, letting me see his familiar face in the light. Long purple hair. His eyes had been removed, replaced with a singular large ocular blue one in the center of his smiling face. “How about work acquaintances?”

“We don’t work for Sam,” Layla snarled. “You know that, Manuel.”

“Could have fooled me,” he looked between us. I kept myself quiet, leaving my hands open. I didn’t bring my wraps with me. If I had to hit someone, I’d do it with open palm or elbow. Couldn’t take the chance they didn’t have partially chrome skulls or ribs.

“So you get the money out of Dan, cholo?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I slid a foot back and aligned myself, pretending to crack my neck to get an excuse to pan my eyes across them. The little guy in the back was shaking. His hand was also behind his back. Knife maybe. “Manuel. You ain’t getting anything out of us.”

“Nah, nah,” Manuel stepped forward. “I kinda need that from ya. See, you poached that job from us. We were supposed to get that Scot asshole.”

“Then why’d Sam give it to us?”

“Who knows? Maybe he felt sorry for your cripple sister.”

Layla turned her back to face mine, her hands loose but ready, eyes on our opponents. We waited. Manuel rolled his eyes. “Don’t kill em.”

The others hesitated. He snarled. “What is the matter with you!?”

“I mean,” the little guy flinched when Manuel glared. “It’s Kaneda.”

Did he mean me or Layla? Either way, that was good enough for me.

“You piece of-” Manuel began to snarl.

I moved in immediately. He who strikes first sets the tempo. Something my first master taught me. Any idiot whose talking isn’t ready for a real fight. Something my current mistress taught me.

Manuel flinched, kicking out at me. I sidestepped it and kicked at his other leg's knee, my shin smashing into it with a satisfying feel.

“Fuck!” he fell back, but not far enough to avoid the tomahawk elbow to his collarbone. I followed up with a knee to the side of his chin, sending him to the floor.

Then the guy my own size moved in, his fists raised. I quickly stepped aside as he approached, forcing him to step with me and keeping him between me and the little guy, all while trying to keep the wrist wrap girl in my peripheral vision.

The angle also let me keep an eye on Layla and the two behind me, a scarred black man and a heavily muscled woman.

I felt a ‘woosh’ of air as Layla’s snapped out her magnet line, then was pulled into the air. She twisted around as the magnet line released, grabbing it and spinning it like a makeshift whip to wrap around one of the guy's arms. She let the motor pull her in, coming down in a kick as he yelped.

The guy stepped aside, barely dodging. She landed in a roll, twisting to spin around him, her line wrapping around his body. The woman tried to punch her and Layla ran towards her, sidestepping one way, then the other to dodge the overly large fist.

At the same time Layla jumped into the air to unleash a spinning kick, I raised my hands up, palms forward, with my left foot forward, in Muay Thai stance. The man I was facing moved forward and jabbed outwards. I parried it off one arm, noting the painful feeling of metal hitting against my elbow. I brought the arm with my magnet lines rig forward. When he jabbed again, his chromed out fist smacked the metal rig along my forearm.

I kept my hands high, leaving my ribs open. As I planned, he took the bait. He jabbed, I blocked, then a right cross went for my left ribs. I messed up. He was faster than I expected. A hard metal fist smashed into my ribs. I moved with the blow, ignoring the pain of it. His cross opened up his guard.

My knee shot out, smashing into his hip. The blow threw him back just a bit. I saw the woman with hand wraps approach. The little guy with the knife was circling around. I had to move quick while he was still open from punching me, his face leaned forward.

I snapped my palm out to meet that face, feeling the brutal crunch of bone crunching under it once more. Unlike with Dan, this time it was very satisfying. He staggered, and I followed by twisting my hips to launch a quick knee strike to his ribs. Fully off-balance, he tried to hit me with a haymaker. I stepped into it, letting the fist fly past my head, and smacked my palms into his ears, grabbed the back of his head, and pulled down as my knee lifted up, smashing his already broken nose.

He fell back, but I was already forced to weave around a punch. Then another and another. I’d been right to be worried about the girl with the handwraps. She wasn’t just prepared, she was fast as hell.

I began blocking quickly, then dodging, sending out my own jabs. Out of the corner of my eye, I continued to monitor Layla’s fight.

She used a spinning kick to drive back the woman she’d been fighting. The guy who she’d wrapped in her line tried to get out of it. Layla pulled in her line, drawing him in at speed. His face met her palm, her fingers wrapping around him before pushing him down and into the ground, his head bouncing.

The woman she’d been fighting leaped towards her, kicking Layla in the shoulder. My sister rolled with the punch. The woman tried to follow.

Then my sister was up in the air, the woman grasping at nothing. My sister had leaped upwards with the aid of a line, twisting in the air to bring both feet down into the womans back, smashing her down.

As Layla was fighting, I was still dealing with the fist-wrapped girl. She dodged and weaved a bit, tapping my fists to drive them away from her. I parried her own jab, took a fist to the face when I misjudged her reach, and quickly covered up.

Then I felt pain in my left shoulder. For a second, I thought I got punched. Then I felt the pain.

“Got him!” a reedy voice shouted. A cold feeling twisted in my shoulder.

“GAAAAH!” I screamed. The small guy I’d been keeping an eye on had struck. He’d take the time I’d been distracted to stab me in the back.

I twisted around without thinking, grabbing him by the back of his head, then headbutting him in the nose. He shouted in shock and pain, then my elbow slashed across his cheekbone, my palm drove the breath from his lungs. I finished by grabbing him by the throat and lifting him up before smashing him into the floor.

The woman I’d been boxing tried to move in, but Layla came in with a leaping kick, forcing her back. I joined in, ignoring the pain of the knife in my shoulder to throw my fists. The woman backed away from us, Layla moving around me to unleash kicks, while I forced the woman to focus on me. Very quickly, her defense broke down.

She was good. Damn good. But I low kicked her in the calf, Layla came in with a Superman punch to the side of her, and I drove my elbow down into her left collarbone with a crack of sound. Sensing weakness, I moved in-

“Enough!” the woman hopped back, raising her hands up. She grimaced, eyes hard. “Damnit, enough… You win.”

Layla and I eyed her for a moment. Her face had a bruise on the cheek. Her shoulder was limp and I could tell it was taking all she had to keep that hand up. She kept backing away. After she’d gained some distance, she turned around and fired a line, shooting off into the sky. Even with her wounds, she still got away quick.

I kneeled down, grabbing at my shoulder. “Fuuuu-”

“Yun!” Layla moved over to me, hovering her hands over my shoulder.

“Jane’s!” I grit my teeth and forced myself to my feet. “We need to get to-”

Layla pushed me. A loud booming noise filled the air followed by an impact on my arm. Manuel was on his feet, holding something out. A gun. A simple, very primitive, but solid-looking, handgun. I felt my magnet line rig shatter into metallic pieces. Manuel had tried to kill me!?

Layla moved fast as lightning, her foot snapping out to kick the gun away while he tried to line up a shot on her. The gun went off, Layla hissing in pain, before she followed with an axe kick to Manuel’s head.

As he fell, I stared at Layla’s side, where a thin red line had torn across her ribs. The bullet grazed her. If she hadn’t kicked it aside…

“A gun!? Seriously!?” Layla shouted, kicking Manuel in his ribs. Panting, she looked over it. So did I.

Guns were damn near illegal in Australia. Had been for a while. It was insanely hard to get a legal to sign off on them. High-level corpos had teams of people with them, but a handgun like the one Manuel had didn’t just appear in a slum kids hands.

And yet, here it was.

I staggered over to it, wrapping my hand in a portion of my jacket and grabbing it by the barrel. It took me a second to figure out, making sure to keep the hole end pointed at the ground, but I finally got the magazine out of the gun and a bullet out of the chamber. I staggered over to Manuel and tossed the gun onto him.

Then I stared at my magnet line. Broken. Again. Damnit.

I reached into Manuel’s pockets. After a moment, I found his wallet and took out his cred chit, a small golden device the size of a business card. Taking a hold of one of his hands and pressing one of his thumbs to it’s fingerprint reader, I unlocked it and transferred over some cash to the nearest open recipient. In this case, me.

Noticing Layla watching, I shrugged, indicating my magnet line. “I need to fix this thing.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” she walked over to me as I stood and we began walking, the sharp pain in my shoulder making me hiss. “Mom’s going to be pissed that we’re late again.”

“Then she’d be a hypocrite. Besides, we need the meds.”

“I know, I know,” we walked together, heading deeper into the city.

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Author’s Note: So uh… original fiction. Tough prospect to recommend to folk. Fanfiction is easier to draw people in with. Hopefully, you guys are down for the ride.

This is a Cyberpunk story. It takes place in a world where I wanted to combine elements of cyberpunk with ancient mythology and old fighting game tropes. This particular one follows Yun and Layla, a pair of siblings trained in martial arts, both adopted, one without cybernetics, one with some. The main goal of the chapter was just to introduce them, as well as the idea of them being somewhat competent fighters, and the whole magnet line thing. There are several types of personal transport in this world that kicked off as technology, but the cheapest will be magnet line. As well as the most ludicrously dangerous.

I’m hoping this goes well. For now, let me know what you guys think of the… extremely sparse offerings you see :D [https://forums.spacebattles.com/styles/sbforums/smilies/biggrin.gif]

Next chapter will be on my Patreon.