"A coin? Perfect."
Winter made everyone desperate. In the slums, survival was a monthly struggle, food and clean water had always been precious commodities. Noxio may have been a sprawling metropolis, but its underbelly was cold and hungry.
Luciel's small figure hid in the shadows, invisible from the naked eye. He'd lived in the slum parts of the Noxio Federation his whole life and had been accustomed to the everlasting winter—long enough to bleach his hair from silky black to pure, snowy white. The color was of sharp, clean white of untouched snow, not the dirty slush that piled up in alleyways.
"I can buy bread if I negotiate well enough," he whispered.
A single silver coin glimmered in the darkness. Luciel's heart fluttered. If he bargained well, he could acquire enough food supplies to last a week. He snatched the coin, palm closing tight, and hastily put it deep in his pocket.
He couldn't let others see this treasure. He had to hide it at all costs.
He hugged the wall, slipping behind overflowing bins that oozed out disgusting odors. Still, Luciel had a determined look on his face.
He was close to the bakery shop now. It was just up ahead. He could almost taste the bread.
"Kid."
Suddenly, a deep voice cut through the silence. Luciel froze, every muscle tensed.
He'd encountered this situation numerous times before. He knew he made a mistake when pulling out the coin and letting it catch the light.
"Give us some share, will ya?"
Luciel took in deep breaths to calm himself down, but he noticed something was amiss.
"Yeah! Why are you keeping that coin to yourself, huh? You sly bastard."
"Robert. Relax. Once we get our hands on his white hair, we'll make some profits!"
"Right, right! Money!"
Why were there so many voices? One deep enough to send chills down his spine. Another so pitchy and mocking, scratching his soul. The last one smooth and sweet, giving him a false sense of comfort.
The three men were looming like shadows, blocking his path to the bakery. Luciel's mind raced. He'd dealt with thugs who had mistaken him to be weak before, but always one at a time. A group was different.
'What do I do?'
He glanced at the bakery. It was so close that he could almost smell the bread. But now, survival came first.
"You better hand over what you have. If you do right away, we will spare you, yeah?"
Luciel almost laughed. Of course, it was a flat-out lie. Remember, this was the slums. No one in the slums showed mercy. Mercy was a myth. Eat or be eaten—that was the rule.
Resolved, Luciel stepped out from the darkness and dropped into a stance that looked ridiculous on his thin frame.
The men scoffed. "What's that boy doing?"
"Doesn't matter. Go get him," their supposed leader ordered.
The third man let out a crazed laugh. "I've been waiting! This kid's a sight for sore eyes."
Luciel didn't want to waste time for these thugs. He decided to end this quickly with a few moves.
The first man swung his fist, but his coordination was awful. Luciel slid aside, barely moving, and the man's punch tasted only air.
The men didn't know, but Luciel's biggest strength was survival. He might look weak, but that weakness forced him to be strong. His desire to survive exceeded his bodily limitations.
"This kid got moves, huh?"
The man tried again, kicking his right leg towards Luciel's abdomen. Another poorly coordinated attack. Luciel laughed, dodging it with ease before driving a sharp blow into the man's side.
"Ack!" The man staggered, blood gushing out of his mouth, staining his lips in red.
His friends' bravado faltered. They were in denial. A malnourished kid defeated a grown man in one blow? Impossible. Luciel couldn't help but smile.
"You little punk!"
"You're gonna fucking pay!"
They both finally charged, not knowing the danger ahead of them.
Luciel realized how stupid some people were. They didn't know when to give up or when to keep trying. Emotions might creep up on him when he was alone, but outside, the world shrank to only instinct and survival.
It was survival of the fittest. Luciel had become accustomed to the fine line between life and death. On the other hand, these thugs were running towards death without a care in the world.
Luciel's mind narrowed. He dashed toward these two maniacs frighteningly. It seemed like three trains running towards one another. Luciel believed he was the sturdier train.
Luciel stretched his arms out and opened both his palms. He recalled the warmth from his dream and conjured the beauty of scarlet flame.
Fire burst from his palms, fanning out like a phoenix. The alley filled with golden light and searing heat. Luciel felt warmth coursing through him, but the evildoers screamed, their flesh and bone reduced to ash.
The flames died away, only the drifting embers whirled in the frostbitten wind.
"Hah." Luciel gasped.
He repeatedly opened and closed his palms. He pinched his cheek to remind himself that he was still alive.
Killing had become more efficient since the arrival of the scarlet flame. The cleanup took a matter of seconds. Not to mention, burn injury was one of the most painful injuries one could endure.
Now that the commotion had died down, the bakery from afar beckoned, closer than ever. The store wore itself festive decorations on its snow-covered roof. The decorative lights flashed green and red, luring hungry customers to eat their delicious bread and cake.
Luciel ran, coin gripped tight in his pocket. He was excited to taste bread only to be stopped by a shadow coming from the side.
'Another one?' Luciel frowned, skidding to a halt.
He once again prepared himself and brought out the now weaker flame. The moment the shadow stepped out, Luciel fired a sharp ball of fire at the newcomer's head.
Frighteningly, the stranger caught the flame. It was effortless, almost bored.
Luciel's instincts screamed aloud. 'I have to run away.'
Luciel judged this stranger was too much for him to handle and decided to flee.
He spun around and kicked his legs, but a hand snagged his hood and yanked him back.
"Hmm... A kid with Echo Energy? Is this even possible?" The voice was calm, curious, and unmistakably female.
Luciel didn't understand her words. He helplessly struggled, but no matter how much he wiggled, the person didn't even budge.
"It's pure. The output's impressive, too." She studied him, then asked, "Kid. Do you have a mark on your wrist, perhaps?"
'How did this person know!?' Luciel remained silent but his mind raced. He learned of fear for the first time. He didn't expect to meet someone of this caliber in the backstreet of all places.
She must have seen the terror in his eyes. Gently, she set him down. "Relax. I didn't mean to harm you. I was just interested in your powers."
Luciel didn't dare to look at her, keeping his gaze on the ground. He wanted to run. His mind rang with silent alarms. He was just a kid, yet regret was the first thing that surfaced as death approached. After a life steeped in suffering, what could there possibly be left to cling to?
Suddenly, Luciel felt a warm hand ruffling his hair, surprising him. Fear gradually slipped away from his muscles and dispersed among the snow.
"What's your name?" the woman asked, voice soft and sweet.
She crouched to meet Luciel's smoky grey eyes. Dark purple hair tumbled past her waist, framing sharp features and chestnut eyes that seemed to pierce through his soul.
"Luciel," he replied weakly.
"Luciel? That's a unique name." She smiled. "How about I buy you as much cake in that bakery store as you like? We can eat and talk at the same time. Doesn't that sound nice?"
Luciel hesitated. He knew better than to follow strangers, but he didn't feel any threat in her delicate smile—only kindness. He couldn't find his voice. All he knew was that he wanted cakes more than anything right now.
Seeing the boy tensed up, the woman introduced herself, "My name's Elina."
"Elina?"
"That's right." She gently took his hand. "Come on," she said softly. "Let's get out of the cold."
Luciel let Elina lead him toward the mystical bakery, warmth blooming in his chest and his small hand for the first time.