A resident from the now long-lost to the Fragmentum Underworld town of Moletammerville. 

Luka was the son of a blacksmith, taking up the trade as soon as he could pick up a hammer. Though his father's name was on the shop, everyone in town soon came to understand that it was the man's quiet and withdrawn son who was the master of the forge. The shop was all Luka knew, and all he could ever picture for his future. An unknown source of quiet despair for him.

And then the Fragmentum's spread reached the outskirts of Moletammerville and the town was placed under curfew. 

Wildfire moved in quickly and often frequented the shop for weapons and repairs. The chief of Wildfire, Oleg, was the member most often seen at the forge, always coming with whichever member needed work to pay for it. And each time he would try to strike up a conversation with Luka, to no avail. But not even Wildfire, fierce and well-trained as they were, could hold off the Fragmentum forever. The evening before the line would fall, Oleg visited the shop once more and asked if Luka's father if he could take Luka with him back to Boulder Town. An evacuation that would place him under the care of the older man and Wildfire as a whole. 

An evacuation the boy's father agreed to.

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"There is fire all around him, and the thick black smoke makes it hard to see. He keeps hearing screams and screeches as the fused scent of machine oil and blood sweeps over his nostrils. Luka tries hard to push down the urge to vomit.

The smile that Oleg put on his face when Luka swung a perfect straight punch for the first time inspired Luka. However, once the boy had experienced to cruelty of the front lines first-hand, he never regained that warm feeling in his heart. Luka would secretly observe his comrades' expressions every time they lined up for action — and the apprehension he saw on those faces would actually sooth his own anxiety.

A scream pulls Luka back to reality. He rushes toward where the sound came from and sees a helpless child being backed into a corner by a monster. Instinctively, he leaps out and puts himself between the sharp ax and the child's fragile form.

A loud blast sounds from behind him. Luka hugs the panicked boy with one arm and slowly turns his head. The mutated monster had fallen to the ground, seemingly hit in the vitals by a stray bullet.

"Th-Thank you... mister..."

"Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"

"Mister... your... your arm..."

His eyes follow the direction the child is pointing at. The sleeve that should have covered his upper right arm has been reduced to a shred of broken fabric, and blood is pouring out of his severed limb.

However, before he faints from the pain, he could once again feel that warmth swelling up in his heart."

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Losing his arm was a hellish experience.

Having the prosthetic fitted and adjusted was worse.

Luka struggled with the pain, with the new weight, and with the feeling of loss. For a while he simply drifted through his days, not trying to train for battle, barely even bothering to think about doing more than surviving. At least until Seele dragged him out of his room, refusing to allow him to spend another day listlessly laying in bed. 

The fight club was an unexpected destination.

But from there he slowly began training under her watchful eye until the routine was so burned into his mind that even when Seele was away Luka would find himself going. 

And eventually he entered his first tournament. 

Losing in the final round stung at his pride, but Luka kept himself calm. There would always be other tournaments. And he was finally strong enough to begin readying for Wildfire activities again on top of that. But still he didn't feel that warmth in his heart again. Not until he stepped between a bully and his target. 

It was there, feeling that warmth blazing like fire in his chest that he made a decision.

"I'll fight to bring hope to everyone here. So no one will feel as lost as I have."

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