Ascendants

Raiden Alaric

The first thing I noticed as consciousness crept back was the unfamiliarity of the ceiling, a vast, white expanse dotted with small, square tiles. Blinking slowly, I turned my head, trying to piece together how I ended up here.

"I don't know this ceiling," I murmured, coughing from the pain in my chest and lungs.

A familiar chuckle came from beside me, drawing my attention. Chronos sat in a chair next to the bed, a look of mild amusement on his face.

"Evangelion reference. I approve," he said.

I tried to sit up, then regretted it. A wave of dizziness forced me back down onto the pillows. As I moved, I felt the snug pressure of a Madela wrap around my chest, its warmth seeping into my skin similar to what Chronos had used. This one seemed to be of higher quality though. The events of the contest rushed back. Yuki's expression, her unrelenting assault, the release of her bind, the punch, me flying through the air...

"Did I... win?" I managed to ask, my mind still foggy.

Chronos nodded, his expression showing something like pity. "In a manner of speaking, yes. You won by disqualification. Yuki, removing her bind and unleashing her aura clearly violated the competition's rules. They had no choice but to disqualify her."

He handed me a water bottle. "Try not to talk too much just yet. You were hit in the solar plexus, right between your lungs. The strike impacted your lungs, causing a lack of oxygen to your brain, and that knocked you unconscious."

He paused, his gaze assessing as he continued. "Although I have to admit, Yuki has some impressive control. You see, if they hadn't trained her to control her aura output, she could have driven her fist through your chest. Instead, you walked away with almost completely shattered ribs."

My eyes widened at that revelation. I knew Ascendants were strong, but experiencing it firsthand really settled it in. Regardless of how I felt after seeing aura used firsthand, I was still disappointed.

"Disqualified, huh?" I echoed, a mixed feeling of relief and disappointment settling in. I didn't want a victory like that. But at the same time, from the way she looked resigned, I think this is how she wanted it to end. Whoever set up our rule change wouldn't get the satisfaction of the win.

Although I do think she is kind of a bitch for using her aura on me as if I was also an Ascend—

I lifted my wrists and wanted to scream all kinds of things that would make my mom force feed me soap until I move out. The damn Anchors probably made her think that I was an Ascendant and could take the hit.

Well, unfortunately, or fortunately for her, I suppose. I am not Awakened yet.

Chronos followed my gaze to the Anchors, and his expression shifted slightly. A flicker of something, realization, maybe concern, crossed his face.

"Ah," he said quietly, leaning forward. "She thought you were awakened because of those." He gestured to my wrists. "That explains the level of force she used. Most people don't wear training equipment that sophisticated unless they're already ascendants."

I stared at him. "So she was holding back until she saw these and assumed I could handle more?"

"Exactly. The Anchors are a dead giveaway that you're training at an advanced level. She probably thought you were suppressing your aura just like she was." Chronos rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I should have considered that possibility."

Great. So I got my ass kicked because of my own training equipment.

Something else had been nagging at me since the fight. Every time I thought about ending it quickly, a deeper part of me resisted. My heart pounded, my focus narrowed. Nothing mattered but the fight.

I only wanted... to win.

At first, I was thrilled, thinking I had found my revelation. But after a few moments, there was no resonance, no awakening. Maybe I'm getting closer?

Chronos leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "So, despite the disappointment, you gained something valuable, right?"

I grinned. "Yeah, I stole all those techniques. I finally got to fight, to test myself properly."

"And with that said, what are your plans for the summer?" Chronos asked, his tone casual but loaded with implications.

Plans? Coming from Chronos, that could mean anything from slightly dangerous to outright insane. I eyed him warily.

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just say," Chronos began, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes, "you're going to have a very busy summer. I'm signing you up for every martial arts contest that will take you. The more techniques you face, the more you'll learn."

The notion should have felt daunting, but as I lay there, a slow grin spread across my face. Despite the aches and the warmth from the Madela wrap soothing my bruised chest, the thought of diving headfirst into countless battles sparked an undeniable thrill within me.

Catching my excitement, Chronos's smile widened. "And, I'm going to teach you one new technique. But remember, you won't learn anything else until you've mastered it."

"One technique?" I repeated, excitement clear in my tone. "What is it?"

"You'll see," Chronos replied, standing up. "Think of it as a present."

"Present?" Before I could probe further, medical staff entered and checked on me. After confirming there were no issues, they removed the wrap. I noticed my almost complete healing, though soreness lingered.

"You said my ribs were almost shattered. Just how high-ranked was that wrap to heal me so quickly?"

Chronos nodded towards the medical team. "These aren't just normal medical staff, they're Ascendants. Did you really think they'd rely only on wraps without proper medical expertise?"

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As Chronos chuckled at my surprise, I sat up, testing my range of motion. Surprisingly smooth and pain-free.

"Guess I underestimated just how common Ascendants become once you get into that world."

He nodded. "Considering that these events are a hot spot for acquiring talent, it's only expected that they have Ascendants on standby for both the moderation and health of the contestants."

I swung my legs over the side of the cot, feeling the firm ground beneath my feet. The energy in the infirmary contrasted with the intensity of the ring. Yet the buzz from the competition lingered in my veins.

"So, as many contests as we can this summer, huh? That's going to be... intense."

"Exactly what you need," Chronos affirmed, his gaze sharp and encouraging. "It's all about risk and reward. But we'll have to take it slow. Your mother would have my head if I threw you into an underground fighting ring for potential Ascendants right away."

I shot him a hopeful look, and he winced seeing my excitement.

"No, don't even start thinking that's where you're heading right away."

"But... you said 'right away,' so technically, that means you will let me join those eventually, right?" I teased, wiggling my eyebrows.

He waved me off with a smirk. "We'll see. Now let's get going."

I stood, stretching my arms above my head. A slight twinge reminded me of the recent bout.

"And the technique you're going to teach me?"

"I'll show you tomorrow at training. In the meantime, rest and look forward to it." He paused before walking off. "Oh right, here you are."

He held a gold medal out to me.

I reached out to take it, my fingers closing around the cool metal. The thing felt cheap in my hands, lightweight in all the wrong ways. The gold plating was already chipping at the edges, revealing dull gray underneath. Someone had stamped "Champion" into it with letters that looked crooked and uneven.

The ribbon was frayed polyester, hastily cut and poorly attached. It hung limply from the medal like an afterthought.

I stared down at it, this hollow piece of metal that was supposed to represent victory. It felt like a lie sitting in my palm. I hadn't earned this through skill or determination. They gave it to me because my opponent broke the rules. The weight of that truth settled in my chest, heavier than any physical blow Yuki had landed.

This wasn't what winning was supposed to feel like.

Chronos saw my expression and patted my back. "Don't worry, real accolades are what you learned through experience, not something you put on a shelf."

—

The drive home gave me time to process everything. I pulled out my phone, March 21st, 5:43PM. No messages from Mom or warnings from Dad about being late. We'd made good time.

As Chronos dropped me off with a simple nod, saying he'd see me tomorrow, I took a deep breath before heading to the front door. Time to switch from combat mode to home mode.

The lights flicked on as I pushed open the front door, and the room erupted with a chorus of "Surprise!" Balloons bobbed and streamers danced in the air, while my family's wide grins filled the space between.

I blinked, stunned. My birthday. I'd completely forgotten.

"Rai, you look like you've seen a ghost," my mom joked, her arms wrapping around me in a hug that melted away the remnants of the day's tension.

I let out a surprised laugh, still disoriented by the sudden shift from combat to celebration. "I... totally forgot. Wait, it's my birthday?"

My brain clicked, recalling Chronos's earlier words about a 'present'.

That sly bastard timed it perfectly. Well played.

"Yeah, it's your birthday! How could you forget the day Mom makes her chocolate cake?" Iris chimed in, teasing. "Did someone hit your head too hard?"

Shaking my head, I stepped further into the warmth of home. Food laden the table, and in the center, a large chocolate cake waited with flickering candles. The normalcy of it all, the family chatter, the aroma of home-cooked food, grounded me.

I shared the day's events. "So, the competition," I began, finding all eyes on me, curious and supportive. "It started off easier than I expected. The first few matches weren't much of a challenge. Honestly, I was a bit disappointed."

They listened intently as I recounted the bouts, the crowd's energy, and the escalating intensity of each fight.

"But then," I continued, "things picked up. I finally met fighters who pushed me, made me adapt and learn on the fly. It was... exhilarating."

I paused, the memory of the final bout surfacing. "The last match was against Yuki, the strongest I faced. It ended in a way I didn't expect. She was disqualified."

I obviously wouldn't mention how exactly that disqualification came about. The last thing I needed was watching my mom sprint out of the house at Mach 12 to yell at Chronos.

My family's reactions were mixed. Concern shadowed their faces, but pride was there too.

"It sounds like you really found what you were looking for, even if it didn't end the way you hoped," my dad said, his voice warm.

"Yeah, I guess I did," I admitted, feeling a mixture of satisfaction and unresolved tension. "Every fight taught me something. Even the last one, in its own way."

My mom reached out, squeezing my hand gently. "Just remember, we're proud of you, not just for winning or for fighting, but for standing up there and giving it your all."

The warmth of her grip and the sincerity in her voice washed over me, anchoring me back to what mattered.

I nodded, feeling the weight and warmth of her words. "Thank you. I'll always give it my all."

Soon, the laughter and chatter settled. My mom disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a small plate in her hands. She placed it in front of me with a motherly flourish, a thick slice of warm chocolate cake next to a melting scoop of vanilla ice cream. The rich aroma wafted up, coaxing a genuine smile from me.

"Here, this should help you relax," she said, her eyes twinkling with affection.

I took a bite. The warm chocolate mingling with the cool, creamy ice cream made my taste buds sing. The flavors melted away the residual stress from the day's events, drawing a contented sigh from me. For a moment, as the chocolate sweetness filled my senses, I forgot about fights and training and rivals.

"Nothing beats your chocolate cake, Mom," I mumbled through a mouthful, my spirits lifting.

My mom smiled, her eyes softening. "As long as you come back to have it, I'll keep baking it."

I smirked. "Be careful with that promise. Leave me alone in the kitchen with one of these and it'll be gone by morning."

"Hey, that's not fair! Save some cake for me too!" Iris pouted, feeling left out of the conversation.

—

As the night grew deeper, I excused myself to head to my room. The weight of the day's excitement and the evening's joy hung pleasantly over me, like a comforting blanket. As I pushed open the door to my bedroom, a small, neatly wrapped package on my bed caught my eye. Curiosity piqued, I approached and picked it up, noticing a card nestled atop the wrapping paper.

"To Rai, from Mom, Dad, and Iris," the card read in cheerful, looping handwriting. Clearly Mom's handwriting.

Smiling, I pulled at the ribbon and unwrapped the gift, revealing a box from a high-end sports brand.

Inside, nestled against crisp tissue paper, were a pair of training shoes. They were sleek with a cutting-edge design, dark blue and silver that gleamed under my room's light. The material looked lightweight but durable, and the soles were designed for optimal grip and shock absorption.

On the side of each shoe, my initials "R.A." were embroidered in silver thread.

Running my fingers over the smooth fabric and sturdy seams, I felt a surge of gratitude. These weren't just any shoes, they were top-of-the-line, likely costing more than any shoes I'd ever owned. They symbolized recognition from my family that they understood and supported this path I had chosen.

Climbing into bed, I set the shoes aside with a promise to myself to make every moment spent in them count.