Chaper 1:The Day IFought Back Chapter 1: The Day I Fought Back
I wake up gasping, my chest burning like someone just drove a spike of pure light straight through my ribs. Rain hammers the cracked roof of the old warehouse I call home, dripping in steady plinks onto the concrete floor.
For a second, I think I'm still dreaming—the sky cracking open, a massive armored figure floating down, its voice like thunder saying, You are my blood. Then the beam hit me. I felt it. Every part of it.
But when I sit up, clutching my shirt, there's nothing. No wound. No glow. No mark. Just the same skinny body, the same threadbare blanket, the same empty stomach.
I laugh once, short and bitter. Another stupid dream. I stopped believing in those a long time ago—dreams where I'm strong, where I fight back, where Lu Huang and his dogs don't dare touch me. I always wake up weaker than before.
I drag myself outside as the twin suns rise over Neo-Zhau. The air smells of wet metal and street-food smoke. Hover-carts whine past, loaded with glowing crystal fruits only the rich can afford. My stomach growls.
I head toward the market square, the same route as every day: deliver packages for a few credits, avoid eye contact, survive.
I should've known today wouldn't be normal.
They're waiting exactly where they always wait—leaning against the neon noodle stall like they own the district. Lu Huang stands in front, arms crossed, that smug little smirk on his face. His two cronies flank him, cracking knuckles and laughing about something I probably don't want to hear.
Lu's wearing the academy jacket he doesn't deserve—dropped out last year, but still acting like he's elite.
"Well, well. Look who crawled out of the gutter," Lu calls, loud enough for the whole square to hear.
A few vendors glance over, then quickly look away. Nobody helps the orphan. Nobody ever does.
My feet stop on their own. I want to turn around, cut through the alley like usual—but something inside me… shifts. A warmth spreads from my chest, slow and steady, like embers waking up. My heart pounds in my ears.
Lu pushes off the stall and walks toward me. "Got my credits ready, rat-boy? Interest went up this week."
I don't answer. I never do. I just stare at the ground, waiting for the first shove.
But the warmth grows hotter.
A voice—not mine, but somehow familiar—whispers clear as crystal inside my head.
Kick him. Right there. Now!
I blink. What? Now?
Lu's right in front of me, close enough that I can smell the spice on his breath. He raises a hand, Qi flickering faintly around his fist—nothing fancy, just enough to bruise.
And my body moves before I can think.
My leg snaps up, my foot driving straight into Lu Huang's groin with perfect, vicious precision.
The sound he makes isn't human. He folds in half, eyes bulging, dropping to his knees like someone cut his strings. The square goes dead silent, except for the rain hissing on hot metal roofs.
I stare at my own leg, still raised, trembling.
What… what just happened?
Lu's cronies freeze, mouths hanging open. One of them finally sputters, "Y-you're dead, orphan!"
The warmth in my chest flares brighter—almost joyful.
That voice returns, calm and certain.
They're bluffing. Shield yourself.
I don't know how I know what to do. But suddenly my mind is crystal clear, like I've practiced this a thousand times. I see it—feel it—forming inside my head.
A barrier.
Qi for structure.
Mana for flexibility.
Spiritual Energy to read incoming threats.
Soul Power to anchor it to me.
Will to make it unbreakable.
Logic clicks together like puzzle pieces. Energy flows in, redirects out. Simple. Perfect.
The bigger crony snarls and thrusts his hand forward. A crude Mana bolt forms—glowing blue, sloppy, unstable—and shoots straight at my face.
My barrier snaps into existence an instant before impact. The bolt hits it and bursts apart like water on glass, scattering harmless sparks into the rain.
The crony stumbles back. "What the hell…?"
Lu is still on the ground, whimpering. People are staring now—real stares, not the usual quick glances. Whispers ripple through the crowd.
"That kid just dropped Lu Huang…"
"No way he's untrained."
"Did you see that shield? Clean fusion…"
I lower my foot slowly. My hands are shaking—not from fear, but from power. Real power, humming under my skin like it's been waiting forever.
I look down at Lu, still curled up and protecting himself. For the first time in years, I speak without stuttering.
"Next time," I say, my voice steady, "find someone else to bother."
Then I walk away.
Nobody stops me. Nobody dares.
The warmth in my chest pulses once, almost like approval.
As I disappear into the alley, rain soaking through my clothes, I stop for a moment and let it wash over me.
I don't know who—or what—that voice was.
I don't know what's happening to me.
But for the first time in my life, I'm not afraid of finding out.
And I keep walking.