Echoes of War

Dread filled Lucien as he stared down the battlefield, his heart hammering against his ribs. These battles were a far cry from the scrappy brawls he remembered in his previous life. Here, weapons were more than crude fists or street knives—they were monstrous, high-powered tech crafted to maim, to obliterate. His grip on the dagger tightened, knuckles white as he tried to steady his breath. Every instinct screamed at him to flee.

Nearby, Razor turned, reading the fear in Lucien's eyes. "Get used to it," he muttered with a grim resolve. "This cursed city pumps out casualties like a machine. That's the only guarantee here." With a swift movement, Razor tossed a small, disk-shaped piece of tech onto the ground, which unfolded into a pulsing blue shield, humming with power. Lucien's fascination with the shield was short-lived as Razor's voice broke through the chaos. "Retreat! All of you! Fall back now!"

Without a second thought, the remaining members of Paige Edge disengaged, activating their grav lifters and taking flight. Lucien followed, his heart pounding as the sounds of clashing steel and electric whirs grew distant behind them. But even as they soared away, the echoes of battle clung to Lucien's mind, triggering an onslaught of memories from his past life.

Year 57 of the Emperor's Calendar, a time that felt as distant as another lifetime, yet every detail remained vivid. His memories took him to the heart of the Effulgence System, planet Orion—a war zone. Missiles roared through the skies, raining destruction on the trenches below. Lucien could hear his own labored breathing, feel the grip of the damp trench walls beneath his gloved hands. Ahead, an officer's voice rang out over the comms, harsh and unforgiving.

"Lucien! Get into that Ajax launcher and target the artillery cannons!" The voice, his commanding officer, lashed out with irritation as Lucien hesitated. "Or do I have to do it myself?" The officer's icy words drove him forward.

In a trance, Lucien bolted out of the trench, ducking as stray laser blasts sizzled through the air around him. He clutched a kinetic stego-shield against his chest, feeling its comforting weight as it absorbed the energy from passing rounds. His eyes fixed on the Ajax launcher up ahead—a monstrous vehicle with twin cannons mounted high, both aimed at the skies. He reached it and scrambled into the cockpit, hands shaking as he tried to start it. The vehicle's ignition blinked lifelessly, refusing to respond no matter how many times he pressed the switch. Frustration welled up, and he cursed under his breath, kicking the console as if it would jolt to life under sheer force of will.

The shriek of an energy cannon pierced the air, and Lucien froze, his blood running cold as he turned to see the very trench he had left obliterated in a blaze of light. His heart thundered in his chest, his eyes darting wildly as a smaller missile streaked across the sky, heading straight for him. He barely had time to react before the projectile struck, tearing through the Ajax launcher and sending him tumbling into darkness.

Back in the present, Lucien jolted, the memory of that explosion fading. His heart continued to pound as he took in his surroundings, now in the relative calm of Paige Edge's hideout. He was seated on a bench in a spacious, well-equipped room, the hum of city noise faint beyond the walls. Beside him, Mar sat quietly, studying him with a look of concern. She reached out and lightly pressed a hand to his chest.

"Everything okay?" she asked softly, her gaze holding a rare gentleness.

Lucien took a steadying breath, managing a weak smile. "Yeah…no problem." He glanced away, unsettled by the resurfacing of his memories. Why now? he wondered. Why are the worst moments of my past returning here, of all places?

The door to the building opened, and Soleli strode in, Razor and two other high-ranking members trailing behind him. Lucien noticed the faint bruise on Soleli's cheek, but no one questioned it. Soleli took a moment to scan the room before addressing the group. "Mar, you're dismissed for the day," he said. Without further explanation, he turned and walked off, his posture stiff with tension.

As the others began to filter out, Lucien turned to Razor, unable to hold back his curiosity any longer. "What happened out there?" he asked.

Razor looked at him, expression unreadable, then scoffed lightly. "Can't you read the room, Lucien?"

Lucien shrugged, flashing him a smirk. "You should know better than to ask me that, boss."

Razor sighed and jerked his head, motioning for Lucien to follow. They left the hideout with Mar trailing close behind, her eyes darting between them as they navigated the crowded alleys. Razor finally slowed his pace and turned to them, his gaze distant. "The boss isn't happy about the scrap we got into," he began, scratching his head in frustration. "More than that, he's pissed that we lost. But it's not over yet."

"Why's that?" Lucien asked, his tone cautious.

Razor looked up at the towering buildings of the cursed city, their shadows casting long streaks of darkness over the street. "He's going to meet with the higher-ups in the syndicate. Seems the other gang is moving around our turf, stirring up trouble. It's going to be a…tense conversation."

Lucien's brow furrowed, weighing the implications of Razor's words. "Won't this lead to more than just tension? This sounds like it could spark something dangerous."

Razor stopped walking, leaning against a crumbling wall and crossing his arms as he studied the faces of his two younger companions. "Exactly, kid," he murmured, nodding slowly. "Stay off the streets for a while, both of you. Unless you're around our people or in public areas, it's better you stay out of sight. The syndicates…they're starting to move again. And when that happens, things get ugly."

A cold shiver ran down Lucien's spine. The city's endless power struggles were the stuff of nightmares, but hearing Razor's solemn warning confirmed his worst fears. He exchanged a worried glance with Mar, who seemed equally troubled but nodded in understanding. As they continued to walk, the reality of Razor's words settled in, casting a heavy weight over them.

Once they reached the edge of the district, Razor turned to them again, his gaze hard. "Remember what I said. Don't take risks. Stay close to the others when you can, and keep your head down. Things are about to get bad, and I'd rather not lose either of you to the streets."

With that, Razor gave them a sharp nod before heading off into the crowd, his figure blending into the shadows with ease born of experience. Lucien watched him go, his mind racing. Despite the tension between the syndicates, Razor's parting words felt like a promise of loyalty. In this brutal world, that was more precious than gold.

Mar nudged him gently. "Guess we'd better listen, huh?"

Lucien managed a smile, though it was strained with the weight of the day's events. "Yeah…guess we'd better."