Ascendants

Raiden Alaric

The alarm on my phone cut through the silence of my room, but I was already wide awake, staring at the ceiling. It had been like this all weekend, my internal clock jolting me awake at 4 AM, no matter how hard I tried to will myself back to sleep.

Chronos, I will never forgive you for conditioning me to NOT sleep in.

Despite the early hour, I slipped out of bed with surprising energy. The meditation sessions, though frustratingly stagnant at barely filling the bottom of that metaphorical cup, had at least left me feeling more centered. But I'd clearly hit a bottleneck in my progress.

Now, this might sound ironic, but I went for a jog. Listen, it's 4 AM, no one else is awake. What else am I supposed to do? Play video games? I tried that, but after thirty minutes, I couldn't sit still anymore. My body had gotten so used to waking up early and moving that doing anything else felt wrong.

I actually scared the daylights out of Mom when she caught me heading out for my second run of the day.

Thanks to the Steel Forged Pill, my stamina had improved dramatically. I could keep a steady pace while running around most of my neighborhood. Another thing I noticed was how my calves weren't getting sore as easily. After that first run at Chronos' estate, my calves were so messed up that my legs trembled when I walked.

I think the Steel Forged Pill also affected how exhausted I felt. Later in the day, I was expecting to feel tired, but I still had energy. I'd have to ask Chronos if it also helped my body maintain good rest.

Yesterday, Dad had joined me for a workout session. Despite the intensity, he'd kept pace easily, almost casually. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at how effortlessly he managed it.

"Not bad, but you could make these tougher," he'd commented with a smirk.

To cope, I told myself that I would surpass him and make him grovel at how intense the workouts would be once I awakened. Then I immediately retracted the thought, realizing that Chronos would most certainly amp up the intensity after I awakened.

That filthy weeb will be the end of me, I swear.

I remembered one training session where Chronos was supposedly 'spotting' me during bench presses. He was more absorbed in his manga than in my struggle with the weights. And then there was the time he mocked me during a run, zipping past with a Naruto run, calling out, "On your left," as he lapped me three times.

When Monday rolled around, Chronos was right. I had no trouble getting up early. At 3 AM I was already on my front porch, waiting for the familiar rumble of his truck.

Instead, to my surprise and growing dismay, I saw a figure jogging up the street. It was Chronos, and he wasn't slowing down.

As he approached, that familiar smirk played across his face. "Morning, Rai! Hope you're warmed up because today we're jogging to my place."

My heart sank. The last thing I wanted was another excuse for more running, especially to Chronos's house, which was not exactly around the corner.

I can't escape it... ha... haha... hahahaha...

I got flashbacks of his persistent mocking during cardio. His smug face as he said, "On your left."

Despite the frustration, these memories brought a reluctant grin to my face. It was infuriating and somehow motivating at the same time. At least I was wearing the athleisure wear he'd given me. Might as well put it to use.

We chatted about the weekend as we ran, and I shared some lighter moments with my family. He listened, nodding and throwing in his typical sarcastic remarks. It felt like any regular workout, except this time there was a comfortable silence that filled the gaps. A mutual understanding that had grown between us.

Then my training arc truly began.

Chronos had me up and running before the city even woke up, hitting the pavement with a vengeance. "Building endurance, Rai," he'd say cheerfully, as if running at dawn was normal.

If there's someone who does this for fun, I will find you, and I will plant thumb tacks in your shoes.

Breakfast was out of the question until I lost the weight. He called it "Intermittent Fasting." Once I lost the stomach, it would be time to bulk. Until then, it was cutting.

I went straight from running to lifting weights that felt, I swear, like lead. Some days felt easier, others didn't. Chronos was definitely tampering with these. He watched with a permanent smirk, making notes that probably said "Make it heavier next week" or "Replace the 10 LB label with 45 LB."

By the second week, I thought I'd get a break. Nope.

Larger focus on strength training, where every day introduced a new circle of gym hell. Chronos pushed me through sets that had me lifting, pulling, and pushing until I thought my arms would detach.

He'd remind me of "strength through struggle." Which sounded less inspiring when I was drenched in sweat and hoping the floor might swallow me whole.

Oh, and Leg Day, that legendary torture session was now officially on my fuck-you list.

THIS ASSHOLE HAD ME GO UNTIL FAILURE!

The third week brought flexibility training, yoga and stretches that made me realize just how stiff I was. "Flexibility saves you from breaking," Chronos lectured while demonstrating stretches that no human should be able to do without dislocating something.

I put up with it so my crotch would never have to feel that soreness again.

You'll be kicking with ease, my friend, don't worry.

By week four, I was running through obstacle courses Chronos set up. They were a twisted mix of endurance, strength, and flexibility challenges that had me hopping, crawling, and occasionally eating dirt.

"Integrating your skills," he'd call out, as if watching me flail was another box in his training manual.

I ended June stronger, no doubt, but with a deep-seated fear of what July would bring. The physical effort etched into my memory, not just each session, but by Chronos's relentless drive to push me further.

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I remembered one particularly savage "spotting" session, which really meant Chronos reading manga while I pushed weights heavy enough to crush my spirit. "You're doing great," he'd muttered without looking up, right before I almost dropped a barbell on myself.

There was actually an instance where I dropped it, but he caught it with ease right before it hit my neck. With his finger, mind you.

And let's not forget the cardio sessions, where Chronos would zip past me doing a Naruto run, shouting "On your left" each time he lapped me. It was ridiculous, infuriating, and weirdly motivating. There was one instance where he was running backwards, almost fell, but did a backflip to save it.

Okay, that was kind of cool, but it still pissed me off.

As June's foundational grind tapered off, July loomed with escalated intensity. Chronos decided that before any specialized training could begin, my physical base needed to be unshakable.

"Master your body before you try to master any skills," he declared.

July started with brutal strength training increases. Each day, Chronos had me moving from one weight station to another, each more daunting than the last. Squats, deadlifts, bench presses, each exercise stacked with more plates than I thought I could handle.

"Building strength isn't just about lifting," Chronos would say as he added another weight. "It's about lifting beyond what you think your limit is."

I want to complain, I really do, but the results speak for themselves. When I first started, I could barely do 3 sets of 5 with just the barbell, 45 pounds. Now I'm doing 5 sets of 10 with 95 pounds. Squatting went from 70 to 105 pounds.

My arms have noticeable muscle definition, my legs are showing more muscle, and my chest and stomach have transformed. The belly I had has reduced considerably, and my chest has increased enough that I can actually flex my pecs.

I might have to go bra shopping soon.

The afternoons were circuit training, bodyweight exercises mashed together with high-intensity intervals. The circuits were relentless, pushing endurance while demanding muscular power. Each session left me sprawled on the gym floor, soaked in sweat, muscles trembling.

With my muscles screaming from the previous week's labors, Chronos shifted focus slightly, emphasis on 'slightly.' Now it was about endurance.

Long-distance running became my daily dawn greeting. We ran routes that snaked through the city and outskirts, each more challenging than the last. Hills became my nemesis as Chronos urged me up each slope with relentless enthusiasm.

After running, it was back to the gym for endurance work with a twist: resistance training designed to maximize stamina. It wasn't just about how fast or strong, but how long I could maintain intensity before fatigue set in.

To help with recovery, I began taking the Steel Forged Pill nightly, its effects subtly reinforcing my stamina and muscle repair.

Mid-July, Chronos introduced agility and speed drills that had me feeling like I was training for Olympic trials. Ladder drills, cone sprints, and plyometric exercises improved reaction times and explosive power.

"Speed is as crucial as strength," Chronos explained. "It's about how quickly you can move, and how suddenly you can stop."

These exercises, often done in sweltering midday heat, tested not just physical capabilities but mental resilience. Each evening, my meditation sessions focused on visualizing a cup slowly filling with aura. Though progress was slow, the nightly practice deepened my connection to inner strength and helped soothe the day's physical toll.

As the month wound down, Chronos shifted toward recovery and conditioning. This week introduced structured recovery protocols: yoga for flexibility, meditation for mental resilience, and swimming for low-impact recovery.

"Training hard is only half the battle," he noted. "Recovering harder is what makes all that training stick."

We spent hours practicing correct cool-downs, stretching, and using foam rollers and massage tools. Nutrition took center stage, with Chronos drilling the importance of protein, hydration, and electrolytes.

Also, I can confirm that water is my favorite beverage. Ice cold water is where drinks have peaked.

By the end of July, my body had transformed. The relentless training under the summer sun had forged a leaner, tougher, more enduring version of myself. Each bead of sweat, each aching muscle, was testament to the work put in.

As the month closed, I felt prepared for anything. August was on the horizon, and I was ready to push even further, secure that my physical foundation was solid as rock.

As July rolled into August, the training intensity didn't wane. It ramped up. Chronos seemed determined to squeeze every ounce of potential out of me before summer's end.

"Now that you've built your strength and stamina, it's time to push your limits and see what you're really capable of," he announced, a twinkle in his eye that was both exciting and terrifying.

How does this madman find a way to make it worse?

The first week was all about testing my new capabilities. Chronos had me perform high-intensity drills that combined with everything I'd learned. I was running longer, lifting heavier, and moving faster than I ever thought possible. Each day ended with a new personal best. Which Chronos meticulously recorded.

I guess he found a use for that clipboard.

"You're breaking barriers, Rai, but we're not done yet," he'd say, pushing me to exceed previous limits.

The Steel Forged Pill became crucial, its effects now deeply integrated into my recovery process. Each night, as I took the pill, I felt reassurance that my body could handle whatever was thrown at it.

Chronos introduced even more complex agility courses designed to challenge both physical dexterity and mental agility. These courses were mazes of sprints, hurdles, and strategic stops that mimicked real-world challenges.

"Agility isn't just about moving your body; it's about thinking ahead," Chronos explained as he timed my runs.

During one drill, Chronos would throw tennis balls from various angles as I weaved through an agility ladder. The unexpected pelting was his unorthodox method of enhancing reflexes and anticipation.

"Keep your eyes open, Rai. Life's going to throw a lot more at you than just tennis balls," he'd jest, though each successful catch boosted my confidence and reaction time.

The evening meditation sessions took on new depth. My focus was sharper, and slowly, the visualization of the cup began showing more significant results. The liquid aura I envisioned each night was rising, a slow but undeniable progression that mirrored my physical improvements.

By the third week, Chronos had me integrate all training aspects into seamless, fluid motions. "Now we combine your strength, endurance, and agility into something cohesive," he stated.

This meant complex routines requiring me to switch gears between power lifts and sprint intervals, or balance maneuvers followed by precision strikes into training pads.

Each session was exhausting, yet exhilarating. I felt not just like a trainee, but like a true athlete, someone capable of understanding and controlling his body in ways I'd never imagined.

The last week of August was Chronos's version of a grand finale. He set up a day-long decathlon that tested every physical and mental skill I'd honed over the summer. From dawn till dusk, I was running, jumping, lifting, and strategizing.

Chronos watched closely, his usual smirk replaced by intense focus. "This is more than training, Rai. This is about discovering who you are when you think you have nothing left," he said.

And he was right. As the sun set on the last day, I was exhausted, but not broken. I had pushed through barriers I didn't know I could, and I stood taller because of it.

As August ended and the reality of returning to normal routine loomed, I felt a mix of relief and nostalgia. The grueling summer training had transformed me, stronger, faster, and more resilient. I also noticed more affects mentally and emotionally.

The cup in my meditations was now noticeably fuller, testament to the growth I'd achieved.

"Remember this feeling, Rai. You've earned every drop of strength you've gained," Chronos said as we reviewed the summer's progress.

With a nod, I realized while summer training was ending, my journey was just beginning. I was ready for whatever came next, thanks to a summer I would never forget.

One thing was certain though. On the last day of August, Chronos left a pair of sparring gloves in my room.

Finally.