Lukas had just been about to start making a small watch camp on top of a building in the recovering town when his work phone played curious tunes. He was dressed casually in light jeans with holes in them, and a white t shirt splattered with daft punk underneath a black studded leather jacket, seemingly like a young man seeking solace. Sitting cross legged with his black bags leizurely dropped to the side, Lukas read the message. Terror formed on his face as his immediate thought was the formation of a new threat. He quickly realized it was not, and as it was a woman and organisation who's name nor reputation was to be taken lightly, he allowed himself to believe it, if only for a few seconds. His lips stretched into a bare minimum smile, and he allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of liberation. 
Was she really letting him go though?
The sources were unmistakable, and Lukas had been given orders to do literally anything that this exact phone told him. So...Okay, he thought, and dared relax while replaying the files attached, again and again, smiling as he watched the long sought for destruction of the people who had hurt him. While his smile grew, his understanding of freedom did, too. He chuckled softly, which he hadn't done in so long his chest felt like shedding rust. He clicked the side button, and dropped the phone while staring thoughtfully ahead. 
Now what?
Was he like a sprung out inmate, who were warned not to do more crimes by whoever chose to place their faith in him? Was he going to spring up like an unbearably happy idiot who'd just won the lottery? Theory would have it he was no longer anyone's weapon. He was...free. Squinting thoughtfully into the hot eastern air, Lukas pondered what that meant, exactly. He did not blame himself for not knowing what to do with that freedom, but he had been told to use it wisely, so he set his mind on that.

He had not tasted freedom in twelve years, and while on strange grounds, he was also completely alone. The only family he'd had, although messy, was gone. He frowned, wondering why he was cut loose in the first place. Did they know he'd been forced to do all those things, and chose mercy? Were they really giving him a chance to choose for himself? To Lukas it made sense. The Seven were pro human after all, and highly ideologistic people tended to be incredibly merciful.   
After a few minutes Lukas could only move on from there, and packed the few things he'd unpacked just moments before. He stood up, and looked at the dark screen of his work phone. Before it could start glowing or ringing again, Lukas quickly threw it with all his might against the wall next to the door that would lead him back down from the roof. Being quite sturdy, the phone only lost a few small pieces. 

Dreading it would revoke his miracle of freedom, Lukas marched over to it with his gun, and aimed to shoot it into oblivion. Pausing suddenly however, though still so hungrily intent on shooting it he panted with adrenaline, Lukas realized it would be rather distasteful to do in a town currently recovering from war. The bang would not only upset the entire nation, but bring unwanted attention towards his location. Groaning annoyed and impatient Lukas marched back to his bag to make his gun soundproof. Once he'd done that swift, but tedious task, Lukas made quick business of breaking the phone into many pieces by using five rapid shots. One shot, sadly as quiet as his existance had been, breaking it in three. Three shots, again too quiet for the groundbreaking change Lukas experienced, breaking those pieces into more damned pieces. Lukas fired one last quiet shot before he realized he needed to stop.
With a hot barrel and phone rubble all around him, Lukas shook with excitement and fear. It was not enough. He couldn't just break it, he needed to obliterate it. Picking up the broken pieces Lukas neatly stored them for when he could place them in lava, or kindly ask an Arms Master to melt them for him. Should the phone glow or ring now...He'd shoot himself. 

  
Finally done with that, Lukas looked around and wondered whether he should go to a restaurant to celebrate, find a brothel, or maybe...Damn, what a lame place to be freed, Lukas thought. There was no way he could celebrate it properly in a post war town, although, he and the town had one thing in common at least- they had recently been freed, so maybe partying was at its place. Lukas chuckled softly at the silly thought. In any case, he needed to move on. He was still signed up as volunteer for the Obsidian Task Force. He could use that to blend in and observe, for his own reasons, one of them being to celebrate. 
He hoped they served breakfast, at least. Maybe some cakes. Now, that would impress him. While walking the dry streets towards the New Town Hall, Lukas pondered the possibilities.

Closing in on the New Town Hall grounds, Lukas noticed a couple of younger boys, apparently meeting after a long time apart. He scanned both without giving or demanding any attention while walking towards or past them. Even though it was hot, his leather jacket covered his armed harness nicely. If not anything else, his military boots revealed he was most likely a volunteer, or some other, while heading towards the HQ in a confident stride. His right hand gripped the strap of his backpack relaxed, while his left carried the black travel bag as if he'd been travelling most of his life. 
His black hair bun had long since started to come apart, adding to his placid and nonjudgemental appearance. Should any of them get two seconds eye contact, if one, with Lukas however, and only with mediocre insight, they'd notice a contrast. A sense of unease that was typical for newcomers. 

[@Ducksworth] [@Letter Bee]