Jōki

The Undermaze was a world of its own.

Luka followed Master Sun through the winding alleys, his boots kicking up dust and scraps of metal as they moved. The streets were uneven, cracked pavement giving way to rusted grates and loose wires. The air was thick with the smell of burnt oil, damp concrete, and the occasional whiff of something rotten.

It was nothing like his island home.

The sky didn't exist here—not really. There were no clouds, no sun. Just the low-hanging ceiling of steel and crumbling stone above, dotted with blinking neon signs and tangled electrical cables that ran like veins through the district.

People moved like ghosts in the flickering lights, their faces hidden beneath hoods or metal masks. Some had cybernetic limbs, their mechanical fingers twitching as they bartered at makeshift market stalls. Others had the faint glow of Jōki energy pulsing beneath their skin—but none of them looked like heroes.

These weren't soldiers or trained fighters.

These were the forgotten.

The criminals. The outcasts. The ones Kislevia didn't want.

And Luka was one of them now.

Luka walked a little faster to keep up with Sun's pace.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

Sun didn't look back. "You need to understand this place first. Otherwise, you won't survive here."

Luka's gaze drifted to a group of children no older than him, sitting by a rusted-out car. Their clothes were ragged, and their eyes were hollow, watching the street with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.

Luka frowned. "Why don't the soldiers come here? Why doesn't Kislevia help?"

Sun let out a low laugh, shaking his head.

"Kid, Kislevia doesn't even acknowledge this place exists."

Luka blinked. "What do you mean?"

Sun stopped walking and pointed at the massive industrial pipes running along the ceiling, leaking steam into the air.

"You see those? They used to be part of Kislevia's old infrastructure. This place? It was supposed to be an expansion of the city. But then the war happened. Resources ran dry. The government abandoned the project, left it half-finished… and people moved in anyway."

Luka looked around. He could see it now—the remnants of what could have been a real city, buried beneath rust and decay.

"So… it's not part of Kislevia anymore?"

Sun crossed his arms. "Officially? No. Unofficially? They still use it. See, The Undermaze is useful. You've got smuggling routes, black-market deals, even underground fight pits where rich people bet on rogue Jōki users."

Luka's fists clenched. "So they know what's happening here, but they ignore it?"

"Not just ignore it," Sun said. "They let it happen. The gangs here? The corrupt businesses? They all exist because someone up there profits from it. Kislevia only gets involved when The Undermaze becomes a problem for them."

Luka felt a strange weight in his chest.

His mother had always told him that the world wasn't fair. That people had to fight for their place in it.

But this?

This wasn't just unfair.

It was designed to be like this.

They reached a more crowded section of the Undermaze. Makeshift stalls were set up beneath glowing blue lanterns, their flickering light casting eerie shadows across the cracked pavement.

Vendors shouted over each other, their voices rough and demanding.

"Fresh tech scraps! Only slightly used!"

"Jōki enhancers—guaranteed to boost your abilities!"

"Stolen rations from the surface! Limited supply!"

Luka's eyes darted from stall to stall. Some people sold weapons—blades and firearms lined up in neat rows. Others had cybernetic implants on display, the metal limbs twitching unnaturally as if still alive.

A man with half his face replaced by metal plating was arguing with a vendor over the price of a synthetic eye.

Luka swallowed.

This place was nothing like home.

Sun walked past it all like he had seen it a thousand times before. "Don't stare too much, kid. People here don't like being watched."

Luka forced himself to look away.

They passed an alley where a group of men were gathered around a caged fighter, a young woman with glowing scars running along her arms.

Luka heard the word "Jōki duel" before they moved too far to listen.

He glanced up at Sun. "Is this why you brought me here? To see all this?"

Sun was silent for a moment before he finally answered.

"No. I brought you here because you need to understand something."

He turned to Luka, his masked face unreadable.

"The world doesn't care about weak people."

Luka's stomach twisted at the words.

Sun gestured to the streets around them. "You see these people? They've been abandoned. Forgotten. No one's coming to save them. And no one's coming to save you, either."

Luka clenched his fists.

"I don't need saving."

Sun chuckled. "Good answer."

They walked for a while longer in silence.

Then Sun finally stopped in front of a heavy metal door, built into the side of a crumbling building.

"This is our next stop," he said.

Luka frowned. "What is this place?"

Sun reached for the handle.

"The only person in this city we can trust."

He pushed the door open—

And they stepped inside.

The metal door groaned as Sun pushed it open.

The inside was dimly lit, the walls lined with flickering neon strips that buzzed softly. The air smelled of oil, rust, and something faintly metallic. A small workspace dominated the center of the room, cluttered with cybernetic parts, old weapon mods, and unfinished blueprints.

And sitting cross-legged on the counter, smoking a thin, glowing cigarette, was a woman.

She looked young—maybe early twenties—but something about her sharp silver eyes made her seem older. Her short black hair was messy, strands falling over her face as she exhaled a small cloud of blue-tinted smoke.

She glanced up lazily at them.

"Well, well," she drawled, tapping ash onto the floor. "Look who finally decided to show his masked face."

Sun sighed. "Mina, put the cigarette out."

Mina "Ghost Fingers" Estel smirked. "Or what? You gonna scold me like last time?" She twirled the cigarette between her metallic fingers—sleek, silver cybernetic replacements that gleamed under the neon light.

Luka's eyes locked onto them.

Her hands weren't human.

They moved too smoothly, the joints bending like liquid metal as she flicked the cigarette away and hopped off the counter.

Her gaze finally settled on Luka.

"Who's the kid?" she asked.

"Luka," Sun answered. "He's with me now."

Mina raised an eyebrow. "Huh. You adopting strays now?"

Sun didn't answer.

Mina stared at Luka a moment longer, then scoffed. "You're small."

Luka blinked. "I'm ten."

"Yeah? You look like you'd lose a fight against a strong gust of wind."

Luka frowned. "…I wouldn't."

Mina chuckled, turning back to her workbench. "Sure, kid. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Luka didn't understand why, but something about her reminded him of Eros.

The same casual arrogance. The same way they smirked like they knew something he didn't.

Sun walked past her, leaning against the counter. "We need weapons."

Mina didn't even look up. "And I need more money than whatever scrap you're about to offer me."

Sun tossed a small silver chip onto the table.

Mina caught it midair, rolling it between her fingers before slotting it into a holo-tablet. The screen blinked to life, numbers scrolling fast.

Her smirk widened.

"Alright," she said, tapping the screen. "Now we're talking."

She turned, pulling open a metal crate behind her. The sound of shifting weapons filled the room as she rummaged through it.

"You need standard mods, ammo, or something a little more fun?" she asked.

"Something heavy," Sun said. "And something quiet."

Mina whistled. "Ohhh, going for the clean kills. I like it."

Luka listened carefully, watching how they spoke. Mina wasn't just selling weapons—she knew exactly what kind of jobs Sun did.

"Here we go," she finally said, pulling out a sleek black rifle with an extended barrel.

She ran a hand along it. "This bad boy? Custom suppressor, modified recoil system. Packs a punch but won't wake the neighbors."

Sun nodded. "Good."

Luka stared at the weapon.

He had never actually seen a gun up close before. His father never used them.

"You ever hold one, kid?" Mina suddenly asked.

Luka hesitated. "No."

Mina smirked and shoved the rifle into his hands.

It was heavier than he expected. The cold metal pressed against his skin, the weight sinking into his arms.

Mina watched him struggle. "Yeah, figures. No Jōki, no muscle. You'd snap your own wrist if you fired that thing."

Luka frowned.

Sun took the gun from him, placing it back on the counter. "We're not here to play."

Mina sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. So, what's the job?"

Sun's voice was calm. "There's a weapons shipment arriving in The Undermaze tomorrow night. Illegal stock, high-value. We're going to destroy it."

Mina's eyebrows rose. "Oh? So you're not stealing it?"

"No. Just erasing it."

Luka glanced up at him. He had heard Sun talk about 'erasing things' before.

Mina leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. "You got a plan?"

Sun nodded. "We use Luka as bait."

Luka blinked. "Wait, what?"

Mina burst out laughing. "Oh, this just got interesting."