Fire.

His chest.

Burn.

Rage.

Burn.

Fire.

Luckner was on fire. Inside. Outside. He was the fire.

Luckner screamed fire.

No.

He was screaming normally. Not a bloodcurdling scream. Not a mad crazy draw on the walls giggling wretched looney scream.

It was the scream of certainty.

His spirit. Flying out his throat. And punching the fucking god of death.

With fire.

He was reborn fire.

His heart.

It was the fire.

Half fire.

Half-human.

Half.

Half.

Half Luckner.

Luckner awakened anew once again, the screaming dying in his throat.

Luckner was not Luckner. Not the Luckner of before. But not entirely different, he recognized. He was… a newer Luckner.

And his heart burned. Half burned.

Half heart.

Luckner blinked rapidly to clear his bleary vision. He was breathing hard, his body spasming. When he lifted his hand, he watched his fingers twitch uncontrollably.

This was a freaky episode, he recognized. It made him think back a couple of months when he took drugs randomly at a house party. Back when he was unaware of his ex’s⁠—fuck that bitch.

Luckner shook his head. That bitch was not a concern right now. Also, he shouldn’t be calling her that bitch, because that bitch had been the love of his life.

But now calling her that bitch kinda stuck.

Fuck it.

He refocused on his current situation as he started to calm⁠—no, he was not calming down. Not easily. His chest was hot. Burning hot. His heart was thumping hard and fast. Beads of sweat streamed down his supine body.

His body was different than he recalled, but the strangeness of his situation extended beyond new physical oddities.

When he stirred a little more, he managed to rest his shaky hand on his chest. What he found was a scar. A huge one. He traced his fingers over it; its shape was like a ragged circle between the pecs. It did not feel like a major dent. The scar was more like roughly filled flesh replacing what he had lost.

While containing the fire roiling inside him.

Luckner pushed up into a seat, groaning. He was surrounded by knocked-over cafe patio furniture. To his left, he found a smoldering hole in the side of the cafe’s main building. It looked like a flaming rocket had struck it, a blaze growing from the establishment's belly and starting to consume it whole.

Between the building fire and Luckner’s position were the remains of the creature that had killed⁠—nearly killed⁠—him. Half of it was gone, which he found strangely appropriate. What remained had been blackened into a crisp.

How that happened, he had no idea. He was glad, though. The winged bastard got what it deserved. Seeing it dead like that filled Luckner with savage glee.

Whoa.

Luckner blinked, realizing his feelings were not normal. Not compared to what he should be feeling right now. He should be horrified. He should be frightened witless. And he partially was. Half was, maybe.

But the fiery thumping in his chest felt thrilled. It burned hotter, spreading more warmth to the rest of him. More enthusiasm. He shook his head again to clear it, but the notion did him little good. He was still… off.

Still hot.

Exhilarated.

Then he saw the jerk he had tried to save. The man's body was lying prone. The man was unmoving.

“Did I waste a life on this asshole for him to just die?”

Luckner grunted. The effort to save another person had nearly killed him permanently. Then… then… ugh.

Luckner stood shakily to his bare feet, his hand rubbing at his very warm chest. The cafe fire was growing larger. There were sirens in the distance, and Luckner figured the sirens would be growing closer. The first responders could deal with the fire.

But that was not going to be the case, he soon realized. The sirens started to lower in volume. They were going somewhere else farther from his position.

Which begged the question: what other emergency could require the firefighters and first responders more than here? More questions followed after that, bouncing all around his skull. How could he still be alive after being skewered in the chest by that flying raptor? Where did that little woman… Lylyth!

Where had she gone? No matter where he looked, he couldn’t find her. The smoke wasn’t thick enough to hide her. Unless she was in the building, but that would be silly. So where did… his… Lylyth go?

He needed to find her.

She did something. To him.

Her something made his chest burn like a furnace.

She made him half Luckner!

Half hers. Why half hers? He wasn’t sure. But he felt that strongly.

Which irked him. He shouldn’t be half anyone’s!

And, more importantly, where did his clothes go?

Luckner looked down at his… muscular... body?

“What the fuck?” he said softly, two oddities occupying his attention.

One⁠—he found himself only wearing his boxers. Musical notes covered his only article of clothing, and it felt tight around his waist, upper thighs, and groin.

Two⁠—he had a six-pack. He never had abdominal muscles before. He grew up skinny-scrawny, and he had assumed he would always be that way. But he was beefy all of a sudden.

Now he was both indecent and looking more than decent⁠⁠—at least body-wise. The sight of himself was kind of mesmerizing. Especially the bulge at his crotch area. It was strangely large even though he wasn't horny. What the hell was hidden beneath his boxers?

He could not understand why that drew his attention the most until a few dots started to connect in his head.

“No way. Did I grow? Like, grow-grow?”

Luckner grasped his waistband. He was going to take a peek when he saw a flurry of movement through the corner of his eyes. A small figure was trying to flee the scene, drawing Luckner’s full attention.

He caught the vision of something green. More importantly, he saw the legs of his ripped jeans flailing through the air while the green person held them.

With further observation, Luckner saw that the clothing napper was operating with others. Four thieves dashed away altogether with his stuff and other items.

Luckner bolted after them. In his head, all he could focus on was getting them. So, he pumped his limbs in response, his feet slapping across the asphalt. The fire inside of his chest twisted into an inferno, and his blood boiled incredibly. It pushed his locomotion to its peak.

For most of his life, Luckner was a lengthy, long-limbed person. But he had never been coordinated or athletic enough to make use of it.

That was not the case today. He dashed full-tilt with a track sprinter’s grace. His focus honed on the little green midgets running away with his goods. The green bastards skipped nimbly around random pedestrians, spooking them into a petrified fright.

Luckner noticed other people were already mid-run with panic showing on their faces regardless of the green miscreants.

A commotion was growing on the streets. He should probably pay more attention to the shouts and screams and random people running all over the place. He nearly paused when an armored caravan carrying a platoon of National Guard soldiers rolled in his direction.

Maybe they could’ve helped return Luckner his goods if the little mongrels didn’t cut into an alley quickly.

By the time Luckner rounded the corner to enter the alley, the caravan of soldiers had spotted him. Some soldiers pointed, jeered, and wolf-whistled at Luckner's near-naked form. Others held their bearings better⁠—these soldiers seemed to be very focused… or worried—especially the gunners behind the machine guns at the top of the Humvees.

Those big guns looked locked and loaded for some reason.

Huh, why was the national guard rolling through a city like they were going to war? The question nearly made Luckner stop to think.

Then he spotted the cuff of his jeans trailing behind the green thieves while they scaled a fence. The crazy feelings inside his chest flared into a new level of heat and noise, refocusing his attention on the chase. He left behind whatever worldly troubles were mounting behind him and threw himself into the alley.

The greenies made it over the tall fence and came to a stop. Luckner skidded to a stop, ignoring the mucky alley water he splashed under his feet.

“Hey, you bastards!” Luckner boomed. “Give me my clothes back! Or else!”

He blinked at the sound of his voice bouncing off the alley walls. His voice sounded deeper, more powerful. Almost ahead of his years⁠—like the voice of a well-aged man⁠—and not the voice of a 19-year-old.

His shout affected the little green thieves, he saw. They stayed put and watched him nervously.

They were like long-eared goblins, dressed in brown rags that could rip apart at any moment. Half of them had large round heads that were wrinkly and warty and without hair. Just all green. The other half had gray tufts of hair that stuck up wildly like spikes. The ones with hair, he quickly noted, were female, and they were less wrinkly and warty.

They had little to them that was attractive, though. They were saggy-looking. Their bellies extended forward. Their four fingers had yellow nails that were long enough to be considered claws almost. And under their squinty eyes and long pointy snouts was a wide mouth filled with jagged yellow teeth.

It was at this point Luckner fully understood what was standing on the other side of the fence. “Shit, you guys really are goblins.”

They snapped out of their frozen state and started acting erratically from what Luckner could observe. Though, he shouldn’t judge. He was erratic, too.

The goblins gibbered and spat in a guttural language that assaulted Luckner’s senses. Their words were harsh, scratchy, and foreign⁠—beyond earth foreign. Then they gestured around in a way that Luckner could understand.

The male with Luckner’s pants waved them around. He also held a little burlap bag that probably contained more of Luckner’s clothes, and the goblin waved that around, too. He danced while whooping with meanspirited laughter.

The other goblins joined him in the hoopla at Luckner’s expense.

Luckner narrowed his eyes. “I see. You want me to kick your teeth out your asshole.”

The goblins continued to mock him.