Luka’s eyes snapped open.


    His body jerked upright, his breathing heavy as he took in his surroundings. This wasn’t the auction house. It wasn’t Sun’s house either.


    The walls were made of reinforced steel, covered in dents and scratches. The air smelled of gunpowder and oil, and the distant sound of metal clanging echoed from somewhere beyond the room.


    A mercenary base.


    Luka sat in a worn-out chair, feeling the weight of exhaustion still pulling at his limbs. The last thing he remembered was the Onix, the moment his power had surged through him, and then—darkness.


    “You’re finally awake, kid.”


    Luka turned toward the voice.


    Sun stood near the corner of the room, arms crossed, leaning against the wall like he belonged there. Sitting across from him was another man—broad-shouldered, wearing a half-open combat vest, his fiery red hair messy and unkempt. A scar ran down the bridge of his nose, and his sharp eyes flickered with amusement.


    Luka stared at him.


    Sun gestured lazily. “This is Ryker Valen. Goes by Red Wolf. He runs this place.”


    Ryker smirked and tilted his chair back. “So this is the kid you keep talking about? The little apprentice?” He leaned forward, giving Luka a once-over. “Huh. He looks half dead.”


    Sun shrugged. “He’ll live.”


    Luka was still processing. His body felt… different. The usual weight on his chest, the lingering nightmares that haunted him every night—


    Gone.


    “Side effect of awakening,” Sun said as if reading his thoughts. “You purged a lot of your old trauma. No more nightmares.”


    Luka blinked. No more nightmares?


    He hesitated.


    For weeks, he had woken up to the sound of his mother’s screams, to the sight of his father’s lifeless eyes. The memory of the burning island had clawed at his mind every night.


    But now…


    It was just quiet.


    Luka lowered his gaze, gripping his own wrist. He thought awakening Jōki would make him feel different.


    But he still felt… empty.


    A quiet sigh left Sun as he ruffled Luka’s hair. “Come on, kid. Don’t look so lost. You did good.”


    Luka’s fingers clenched. He wanted to tell someone. His parents? No. His sister?


    His stomach twisted. Sasha wasn’t here.


    She was somewhere in the military. Training. Fighting. She was probably getting stronger.


    Luka swallowed down the bitter feeling and looked up at Sun. “So… what now?”


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Sun grinned beneath his mask. “Now that you’ve awakened, we get to the real training.”


    Ryker let out a sharp laugh, standing up. He towered over Luka, his presence commanding. “Mask guy, you’re always full of surprises.” He placed a hand on Luka’s head and ruffled his hair roughly. “Not bad, kid. Not bad at all.”


    Luka frowned, fixing his messy hair. “I’m not a kid.”


    “Yeah? You look like one,” Ryker teased, before turning to Sun. “So, what’s next? You gonna teach him how to kill a Xeno in one night?”


    Sun stretched, letting out a lazy sigh. “Something like that.”


    Ryker raised a brow. “Wait—you’re serious?”


    Sun nodded.


    Ryker scoffed. “You both talk like damn robots.” He shook his head. “Anyway, let’s get to business. You completed your mission, so I’ll send the payment—”


    Sun waved a hand. “Keep it. Use it to register Luka.”


    Ryker froze.


    Luka blinked. Register?


    “What,” Ryker said flatly. “The hell did you just say?”


    “I said,” Sun repeated, his tone bored, “register him as a mercenary.”


    Ryker stared. Then laughed. “No way. Absolutely not. He’s a kid.”


    “He awakened today,” Sun replied. “He’ll survive.”


    “You’re insane,” Ryker muttered, rubbing his temples. “You really think throwing him into a battlefield is ‘training’?”


    “It worked for me,” Sun said.


    Ryker clicked his tongue in frustration. “You’re out of your damn mind, mask guy.”


    Luka wasn’t sure how to feel about this.


    But Sun had already decided.


    Ryker let out a deep sigh, muttering curses under his breath. “Fine. But don’t expect me to babysit him.”


    Sun chuckled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”


    Ryker crouched in front of Luka, his sharp eyes narrowing. “Listen, kid. Being a mercenary ain’t a game. If you’re serious about this, then you’d better be ready.”


    Luka didn’t hesitate. He nodded. “I am.”


    Ryker studied him for a moment—then smirked.


    “Alright. Let’s see if you can back that up.”


    Sun let out a long sigh as they left the mercenary base, stepping into the neon-lit streets of the Undermaze. The air was thick with the smell of burnt wiring and oil, and the distant sounds of shouting and machinery filled the streets.


    Ryker had stayed behind, still laughing as Sun walked off, Luka trailing behind him.


    “I see,” Ryker had smirked before they left. “So you really do care about him.”


    Sun had scoffed, waving him off. “Whatever. Bye.”


    Luka, however, barely paid attention to their conversation. He was still staring at his own hands. His fingers twitched slightly as if expecting to feel something different. His **new Jōki—Null Energy—**was unlike anything he had ever known. Unlike anything anyone had ever known.


    Was this what strength felt like?


    His master must have noticed his silence, because after a while, Sun finally spoke.


    “So?”


    Luka looked up. “So what?”


    Sun tilted his head. “Is having Jōki really making you happy?”


    Luka thought about it.


    Was he happy?


    Luka hesitated before answering, his brows slightly furrowed. He searched for the right words but came up empty.


    “I… don’t know,” he admitted honestly. “But I want to understand it more.”


    “Curious kid.”


    He reached out, placing a hand on Luka’s head like he always did when explaining something important.


    “Alright then, let’s start simple. Did you know there are eight types of Jōki?”


    Luka blinked. “Eight?”


    Sun nodded. “Yeah. Every Jōki user falls into one of these categories.” He began counting them off on his fingers.


    “Enhancers” – They have raw physical strength, making them natural warriors. Strong, fast, durable—the kind that wins in a direct fight.


    “Manipulators” – They control things—objects, elements, even people—by bending their will to match their own.


    “Emitters” – Their Jōki doesn’t stay inside them. It bursts out in powerful blasts, beams, or even explosions.


    “Transmuters” – These ones can change their energy’s properties. Fire, ice, electricity—whatever they want, their Jōki can mimic.


    “Conjurers” – They create things out of thin air. Weapons, barriers, creatures—all made from pure Jōki.


    “Healers” – Unlike most Jōki users who use their power to destroy, healers mend wounds, restore energy, and even regenerate lost limbs.


    “Curse Users” – The rarest among them. Their power is fueled by emotion but at a dangerous cost. Their Jōki lingers, festers, and sometimes… takes on a life of its own.


    “Specialists” – The unpredictable ones. Their abilities don’t follow any rules. They don’t fit into a single category because they make their own.


    Luka frowned, absorbing the information. “Then… what are we?”


    Sun smirked beneath his mask. “What do you think?”


    Luka hesitated. His mind went over the explanation, fitting pieces together. Slowly, he murmured, “Specialists?”


    Sun let out a small, approving laugh. “Bingo.”


    He ruffled Luka’s hair, making the boy scowl. “We’re anomalies, kid. Our Jōki doesn’t function like others. It doesn’t rely on emotion, and it doesn’t follow the natural laws of energy. It erases. That’s why we’re Specialists.”


    Luka was quiet.


    So he really was different.


    Not just because he had been unable to perceive Jōki before, but because what he had awakened wasn’t like anything else.


    A power that devoured.


    A power that left nothing behind.


    That thought sat heavy in his chest.


    By the time they reached home, Luka was still lost in thought.


    Sun pushed open the rusted metal door to their small hideout, stepping inside and immediately pulling off his gloves. Luka followed, his mind still turning over everything he had learned.


    Sun stretched, rolling his shoulders. “Alright, kid. Now that you’ve awakened, it’s time for actual training.”


    Luka’s head snapped up. “Training?”


    Sun nodded, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket and tossing it onto the small table in the corner of the room.


    “Your next lessons will focus on three things.”


    He held up a finger. “First—Meditation & Sensory Training.” Since Luka couldn’t see Jōki like others, he needed to learn to detect what was missing instead. Instead of feeling energy, he would sense the absence of it.


    He lifted a second finger. “Second—Control Exercises.” Luka’s power didn’t work like normal Jōki. Instead of unleashing energy, he erased it. If he couldn’t control that, he could accidentally erase something—or someone—he didn’t mean to.


    Finally, he held up a third finger. “Third—Hand-to-Hand Combat.” Unlike other Jōki users, Null Energy didn’t enhance physical abilities. That meant Luka needed to rely on something else—martial arts.


    Luka nodded slowly, taking it all in. It made sense. His power was dangerous. If he couldn’t control it, he could end up hurting people.


    Sun smirked. “Well? You ready?”


    Luka clenched his fists. “Yeah.”


    Because this was only the beginning.