Fated reborn - Chapter 278: Chapter 278

Luciano's Pov.
The second I stepped inside, the air changed. It was thick with something I couldn’t name, like a pulse running through the floorboards, through the walls, through me. The place was bigger than I expected—industrial, metal beams stretching high, dim lights flickering overhead. The scent of sweat and something metallic clung to the air.
People moved in the shadows, some lifting weights, some sparring, others watching, studying, like they were measuring every move. And they weren’t just strong. They were sharp. Precise. Like every muscle in their body knew exactly what to do before their mind even caught up.
I’d been around fighters my whole life. But this?
This wasn’t just skill. It was something else.
Elias walked like he belonged here, like he’d done this a hundred times before. I followed, eyes scanning the room, taking in every detail. Some of the fighters looked at me, just for a second, but long enough to send a clear message, they knew. They could see it in me, same way I could see it in them.
I didn’t know if that made me feel better or worse.
Elias stopped near the center of the room, turned to face me. “This is where it starts,” he said. “Your training.”
I scoffed, crossing my arms. “You think I need training?”
Elias smirked. “No. I *know* you do.”
A voice cut through the air before I could respond.
“Who’s the new guy?”
I turned. A man stood a few feet away, arms wrapped in tape, sweat glistening on his skin. He was built like a predator—lean, sharp, coiled like a spring ready to snap. His eyes flicked to Elias, then back to me.
Elias didn’t hesitate. “Luciano.”
The guy tilted his head slightly, studying me like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve. Then he grinned. “Hope he lasts longer than the last one.”
I tensed.
Before I could ask what the hell that meant, Elias clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Luciano, meet Jax.”
Jax nodded at me, then cracked his knuckles. “Let’s see what you got.”
I blinked. “Right now?”
Elias stepped back. “Right now.”
I huffed out a breath, rolling my shoulders. I wasn’t new to this. I’d been fighting since I could throw a punch. But something about this—about Jax, about this *place*—made my blood hum with anticipation.
Jax dropped into a stance. “Come on,” he said, smirking. “I won’t break you too bad.”
I exhaled slow.
Then I moved.
Fast. Faster than I meant to. My fist cut through the air, aiming straight for his ribs. But Jax wasn’t there. He sidestepped like he saw it coming before I even threw it.
Before I could reset, he was already moving—quick, efficient, a sharp jab to my side. I twisted at the last second, but his fist still clipped my ribs, sending a shock of pain through me.
I gritted my teeth.
Good.
Pain meant I was awake.
I didn’t wait. Spun, throwing a kick, aiming low. Jax blocked it, barely shifting back, grinning like he was *enjoying* this.
I clenched my fists.
Fine. If that’s how he wanted to play.
I feinted left, then went right, my knee snapping up toward his gut. He caught it at the last second, but I was already twisting, using the momentum to bring my elbow down toward his temple.
This time, I hit.
Jax staggered back a step, blinking, touching his jaw like he was *surprised.*
Then he grinned wider.
“Not bad,” he said. “Not great. But not bad.”
I scowled.
Before I could move again, Elias stepped between us, holding up a hand. “That’s enough.”
Jax exhaled, shaking out his arms. “He’s got the instincts,” he said, glancing at Elias. “But instincts won’t save his ass.”
Elias nodded. “That’s why he’s here.”
Jax smirked at me. “Then this should be fun.”
I rolled my shoulders, ignoring the dull ache in my ribs. I wasn’t sure what I’d just signed up for.
But I had a feeling I was about to find out.
The next few days were brutal.
Elias wasn’t lying when he said I needed training.
Every time I thought I was fast, someone was faster. Every time I thought I hit hard, someone hit harder. It wasn’t just fighting. It was something else. It was like they were operating on another level, moving before their bodies should have been able to react.
And they expected me to do the same.
I learned quick. Had to. Because every mistake came with a cost. A bruise. A cut. A hit that sent me sprawling. But I kept getting up. Kept pushing.
Because I needed answers.
And the only way to get them was to survive.
Jax pushed me the hardest. Every time I thought I was getting better, he knocked me down again, smirking like he was waiting to see if I’d break. But I didn’t.
And slowly, slowly, I started keeping up.
My body learned before my mind did. Movements that used to feel impossible started to feel *natural.* Like something inside me was waking up, stretching its limbs, remembering what it was built for.
It was terrifying.
And exhilarating.
But the real test came a week later.
Late at night.
When they came for me.
I woke up to the sound of footsteps.
Not loud. Not rushed. Just there.
Moving through the dark like they belonged.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
Just listened.
Three of them.
One near the door. One by the window. One moving closer.
I didn’t wait.
I moved.
Fast. Faster than I should have been able to. My body was already reacting before my mind caught up. I grabbed the first guy, twisting his arm, yanking him forward. His breath hitched in surprise—just for a second—before I drove my elbow into his ribs.
He dropped.
The second one lunged. I ducked under his swing, sweeping his legs out from under him. He hit the floor hard.
The third—
Was already behind me.
Cold metal pressed against my throat.
“Not bad,” a voice murmured.
Jax.
I tensed.
“What the hell is this?” I growled.
He chuckled. “A lesson.”
The pressure at my throat disappeared. I spun, glaring at him. The other two guys—ones I’d seen around the training floor—were already standing, shaking themselves off.
Jax crossed his arms, smirking. “You’re getting faster.”
I clenched my fists. “You could’ve *killed* me.”
His smirk didn’t fade. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”
I swallowed hard.
Elias stepped into the doorway, arms crossed. “You’re waking up,” he said simply.
I exhaled. “Waking up to *what?*”
Elias didn’t answer right away. Just watched me, eyes unreadable.
Then finally, he said, “The real question is—when you do wake up, will you be ready for what’s coming?”
Silence settled heavy between us.
Jax was still watching me, head tilted like he was waiting for something.
I didn’t have an answer.
Not yet.
But one thing was clear.
This wasn’t just about training anymore.
This was about survival.