Years before East University. Years before gangs and dominance. Just a playground, a broken toy, and the beginning of something big.
—
The afternoon sun bathed the small neighborhood playground in amber light. Kids ran wild, their laughter echoing through the air, but one boy sat alone by the sandbox—lost in his own world.
Alias.
Knees dusty, shirt untucked, he rolled a small red toy car over a patch of sand, completely absorbed in his play.
That's when they came.
Three boys—older, louder, bolder.
"Hey," one of them said, stepping forward. "Give me that car."
Alias looked up, startled. "What? No. It's mine."
"I said give it!" another boy chimed in, a smirk on his face.
"We just wanna play," the third added, circling around him.
Alias clutched the car tightly to his chest. "I said no."
The boys lunged.
"Stop it! That hurts—stop!"
They didn't.
Until a voice cut through the chaos like lightning.
"HEY!"
The bullies turned.
A lanky boy, arms crossed, fire in his eyes, stood a few feet away.
Lucas.
"Back off," Lucas said.
One of the bullies scoffed. "Or what?"
Lucas didn't wait.
He stepped forward, stomping hard on the toes of each boy one by one.
"OW!"
"MY FOOT!"
"You'll regret this!"
The three scattered like pigeons, tears in their eyes and pride shattered.
Lucas turned to Alias, who was still on the ground, hugging what was left of his toy car. His bottom lip trembled.
Lucas knelt beside him and picked up the cracked plastic car. One of the wheels had popped off. A piece of the hood had snapped.
"You okay?" he asked.
Alias gave a shaky nod.
Lucas smiled. "Come on. Let's fix this."
—
They walked through the neighborhood—Alias limping a little, Lucas holding the broken car.
"I'm Lucas," he said casually.
"Alias," the boy mumbled, still wiping his eyes. "Thanks for saving me."
"No big deal. You just moved here?"
Alias nodded. "My dad got a new job nearby."
"Yeah, figures," Lucas replied. "New kids always get picked on."
Alias looked down. "I'm not strong like you."
Lucas smirked. "You don't have to be strong. Just act strong."
—
They stopped in front of a gate.
Lucas knocked twice.
A woman opened the door, apron tied around her waist.
"Oh, Lucas! What brings you here?"
Lucas bowed. "Good afternoon, Miss Liwanag. Is Warren around?"
She called out behind her: "WARREN! Lucas is here again!"
Footsteps echoed inside. A few moments later, a half-asleep boy appeared, dragging his slippers and rubbing his eyes.
Warren Liwanag.
"What now?" he muttered.
Lucas grinned. "Can we use your garage? My friend here broke his toy."
Warren raised an eyebrow. "And that has what to do with me?"
"Come on. Just let us fix it. Promise we won't raid your fridge this time."
Warren rolled his eyes. "Fine. But no food. And clean up after."
He turned to Alias. "What's your name?"
"Alias."
"Don't care. Just fix the damn toy."
Lucas leaned over and whispered to Alias with a smirk, "He's all bark. Total softie underneath."
Warren: "I heard that."
—
The three entered the garage.
Oil stains on the floor. Old tools lined up on the wall. A dusty table in the corner.
Lucas tossed the toy car on the workbench.
"Alright. Let's see what we can do."
Warren groaned. "You guys are hopeless."
But within minutes, the three were gathered around the car like engineers. One holding, one gluing, one replacing the tire.
Laughter started to fill the garage.
—
End of Chapter 11