Ascendants

Raiden Alaric

???? (Attempts: 8,488)

????'s stance shifted, and I caught the micro-tell instantly. Weight transferring to his left foot, shoulder dipping a fraction. I slipped right as his fist cut through the space where my head had been, close enough to feel the air displacement.

The follow-up came from below, an uppercut with timing I couldn't read. I flowed backward, spine bending, watching his hand pass inches from my chin. My footwork had become instinctual after thousands of attempts, each step precisely measured to keep me alive for another heartbeat.

The third strike targeted my ribs. I twisted, letting Capoeira's spiral movements carry me through the danger zone. His elbow whistled past where my torso had been, and for a moment, I felt the rhythm completely.

Then came the sequence I'd never seen before. A kick delivered with such perfect timing and positioning that my eyes couldn't track the actual movement.

Darkness.

???? (Attempts: 8,547)

I was ready for the deceptive kick sequence. Mostly. I managed to avoid the initial strike, but the follow-up caught me in the shoulder, spinning me into oblivion.

Progress.

—

???? (Attempts: 8,623)

The kick sequence became readable after enough repetitions. Duck, weave, roll left. But now I faced something new. A grappling combination that materialized around me like a perfectly choreographed trap. Hands that moved faster than I could process tried to lock around my throat from positions that shouldn't have been possible given the timing.

I flowed through Jujitsu escapes, slipping grips that felt solid despite the incredible speed, but there were too many angles, too many simultaneous attacks.

Darkness.

—

???? (Attempts: 8,891)

The grappling sequence was readable now. The hands reached for specific points, throat, wrists, ankles, but they followed patterns. Systema's principles of natural movement carried me through the maze of limbs, my body becoming water that couldn't be grasped.

I survived the grappling. Then came a new level of complexity.

????'s strikes became faster, more precise. Each punch flowed into the next with technique that would have made any martial artist weep, combinations that pushed the limits of what human reflexes could achieve.

The first strike aimed for my neck. I leaned back, feeling his fist pass through the space where my throat had been. The second came horizontally, a cross meant to open my guard. I ducked under it, the punch whistling past with surgical precision.

The third strike came from above while maintaining the horizontal momentum.

Darkness.

—

???? (Attempts: 9,284)

I was getting faster, my perception speeding up to match the incredible pace. The overhead strike required a lateral dodge,while the horizontal punch needed me to drop low. I managed both, twisting through the air in a movement that combined gymnastics with desperation.

But ???? wasn't finished. As I landed, a new sequence began. Unarmed combat that incorporated elements I'd never seen before. Strikes that came faster than conscious thought, kicks that bent around my defenses, grappling attempts that came from angles that shouldn't have been accessible.

I flowed through it all, every martial art I'd absorbed, becoming part of a greater symphony of movement. Boxing's head movement to slip a punch that came from three directions. Muay Thai's clinch escapes to break free from arms that wrapped around me from impossible angles. Aikido's redirection principles to guide force that moved too fast for me to track.

I lasted longer. Much longer. ????'s assault continued for what felt like minutes, an eternity compared to my early attempts. I read patterns within patterns, sequences within sequences, until the entire fight became a dance I was finally learning to follow.

Then came something I'd never seen before. ????'s attacks began layering.

Suddenly each strike carried multiple intentions, multiple angles of force delivered in rapid succession. A single combination that attacked from three different angles in sequence, each strike building on the last with perfect timing.

I tried to flow between the layered attacks, but there was nowhere to go. Three angles of force converged on my position from angles that covered every possible movement.

Darkness.

—

???? (Attempts: 9,756)

I was learning to understand the layered assault. ???? was revealing the true depth of his abilities. Each attack contained multiple phases of intent, multiple expressions of the same deadly purpose executed with inhuman speed.

I learned to read the primary attack first, then the follow-up echoes. Duck the main punch while twisting away from its chained successors. For one perfect moment, I existed in the gap between the layers, the space where even flawless attacks created their own weaknesses.

But the sequence evolved. Now the layering became even more complex.

The attacks came from every direction, each strike carrying five different phases of intent delivered in rapid succession. I flowed through Drunken Boxing's unpredictable movements, letting randomness be my guide where prediction failed. My body became a thing of pure instinct, moving without conscious thought.

I lasted thirty seconds. Maybe more. Long enough to feel the rhythm of the multi-layered assault, to begin mapping the pattern of its incredible complexity.

Then the layering reached seven phases, and my ability to track collapsed entirely.

Darkness.

—

"See? I told you the thyme was the key," Sol said, stirring the pot with obvious satisfaction. "Elena never listens when I suggest herbs."

"Tell me about it," I said. "Last time I suggested tumeric or cumin, she just threw a dish towel at me."

I'd been surprised when Sol had shown up in the kitchen a few weeks ago, rolling up his sleeves like he belonged there. Turns out living alone since he was a kid meant he'd gotten pretty good at cooking out of necessity.

"I listen!" Elena protested, though she was smiling. "I just think you both use way too much seasoning."

"Says the person who thinks pepper flakes are 'too spicy,'" I teased, earning a mock glare from her.

Sol snorted. "Remember when she tried to make that 'mild' curry? I'm pretty sure it was just coconut milk with a single grain of pepper."

"It was perfectly seasoned!" Elena huffed, but her pout only made us grin wider.

"Of course it was," Sol and I said in unison, which made her throw a dish towel at both of us.

—

???? (Attempts: 10,392)

I was pushing my understanding to its absolute limit, processing information at speeds that made my earlier progress seem sluggish.

Each death taught me something new. Each reset brought deeper comprehension. ???? was evolving his attacks and exploring different aspects of combat, showing me fighting techniques I'd never seen executed with perfect timing and inhuman speed.

I began to see the pattern. The underlying structure that governed all the incredible sequences. Reading individual attacks and complex combinations was only part of it. Understanding how ???? chained techniques together faster than anything I'd seen, that was the real challenge.

I flowed through attacks that should have been too fast to perceive, let alone evade. My body had become a well-trained instrument of evasion, every technique I'd ever learned working together.

But I still hadn't landed a single strike. Not one. I'd never even come close to touching ????. This was pure defense, pure survival, pure learning. He remained untouchable, unassailable, operating at a level where my offense couldn't reach.

I could feel it building, the moment when pure defense would shift into something more. I wasn't there yet, but I could sense it coming. Like standing at the shore and feeling the pull of an incoming tide.

Soon~

—

"Making progress?" Seraphina asked casually as she handed me a glass of water.

I drained half of it in one go, working out a crick in my neck. "Yeah, actually. Lasting a lot longer now."

Her violet eyes sharpened with curiosity. "What exactly are you—"

I held up a finger with a smirk, wagging it at her. "Ah ah ah. You'll have to wait until I finish it. Then I'll tell you everything."

Despite herself, Seraphina smiled, her expression said she was relieved to see I hadn't changed completely. "Fine. But I'm holding you to that promise."

—

???? (Attempts: 11,047)

???? stood before me, but I could sense the vast depth of his capabilities. Every incredible technique, every mind-bending principle, they were all there, waiting for me to figure out.

For the first time in thousands of attempts, I wasn't afraid of what was coming.

I was eager for it.

My grin widened as I settled into a stance that incorporated elements from every martial art I'd learned. A fighting position that felt natural after all this training.

Come on then. Show me what else you've got!

—

"Dad's really embracing retirement," I said into the phone, grinning at my mother's excited chatter. "First he made you a new bookshelf, now he's building bird feeders?"

"Three so far! And he's started on birdhouses too." Mom's laughter was warm through the speaker. "I think he's trying to turn our backyard into some kind of bird sanctuary. Yesterday I caught him researching different seed types."

"That's... very Dad of him," I said, genuinely amused. "Going from going over contracts to bird architecture."

"He says it's 'productive relaxation.' I think he just likes having projects that don't involve deadlines."

"Does this mean you guys are going to be using my room for something else?"

Mom chuckled, "I already moved my sewing equipment in there. Seraphina already picked up your belongings."

"Y-you what? When?" I stammered.

"You have your own home now Rai. Only makes sense for you to have all of your things too. Also you need to update your wardrobe again. You own too many hoodies and sweatpants."

I scoffed, "I'll have you know that comfy is the best kind of style."

"Ella would think otherwise—"

"Oh, would you look at the time!" I interrupted quickly. "I should probably get back to training. Big day tomorrow and all that."

"Raiden Alaric, don't you dare hang up on me when I'm talking about your girlfri—"

"Love you, Mom! Say hi to Dad!" I said rapidly, already reaching for the end call button.

"We're not done discussing—"

Click.

I stared at the phone for a moment, then shook my head with a rueful grin. Some conversations were more dangerous than fighting something that can kill me instantly.

She's not my girlfriend for crying out loud…

—

???? (Attempts: 15,847)

Days had blurred into an endless cycle of death and resurrection. Each attempt taught me something new, each failure carved deeper understanding into my very soul. ????'s patterns had become as familiar as my own heartbeat, yet still impossibly complex.

I flowed through the opening sequence. Basic strikes that would have killed me instantly weeks ago. Duck the first combination, twist away from the impossible kick, roll through the grappling maze. My body moved without conscious thought, every technique I'd absorbed working in perfect harmony.

The advanced combinations came next. Multi-phase attacks that built upon each other with perfect timing. I read the flow of each sequence, my spine bending impossibly to avoid strikes that came from multiple angles simultaneously.

Then the layering began. Three-phase attacks became five-phase, then seven. I existed in the gaps between attacks, processing information at speeds that pushed my limits.

I was lasting longer than ever before. Much longer.

—

I was standing outside one of the rooms I'd been avoiding, working up the courage to actually go inside. However, before I could steel myself, Lyralei appeared out of nowhere and pushed me through the doorway. Before I could escape, she was already launching into her presentation.

"This is the apothecary," Lyralei announced, physically turning my head toward the shelves lined with countless bottles, vials, and containers. "The Brightmoors maintained an extensive collection of enhancement elixirs, healing boosters, rare ingredients..." I tried to move my head but she was clearly using aura to hold me in place.

I was forced to take it all in. The meticulously labeled bottles, the neatly organized vials filled with substances I couldn't even identify. Some of those ingredients probably cost more than most people made in a year. The sheer concentrated wealth made my stomach churn. She finally released my head and began walking around to continue her tour.

"The organization system is quite logical," Lyralei continued enthusiastically, gesturing to different sections. "Healing properties here, enhancement potions there, and the rarest components are in the climate-controlled cab—"

She spun around mid-sentence. "Hey! Where do you think you're going?"

I didn't stop moving toward the door. "Great room. Very... comprehensive," I called back, still making my escape. "Maybe we could check out something else? Like literally anywhere else?"

"Get back here! I haven't finished!"

"The garden! Let's go look at the garden. Fresh air sounds amazing right now."

"Raiden!"

—

???? (Attempts: 17,963)

Something was changing in how I processed ????'s attacks. Each death brought exponentially deeper comprehension. Patterns within patterns within patterns, all revealing themselves like flowers blooming in fast-forward.

—

"Look at this," Celia said, showing me her tablet with various forum discussions and leaked information. "Speculation about what the academy entrance exams might include this year."

I scanned the posts, noting the rumors about combat trials, aura control tests, and theoretical examinations. "Mock battles, team fights, even potential battle royales," I read aloud, getting more excited with each option. "Now that sounds like fun."

"Some of these say they might do written portions too," Celia pointed out. "Theory, history, aura science..."

"You think you're ready for whatever they throw at you?"

"Absolutely not," I said with a grin. "I'm completely screwed if they decide to do written exams. I barely graduated high school. But the combat stuff?" My grin turned predatory. "The training I've been doing... bring on the battle royales. I'll be ready for whatever fight they've got."

—

???? (Attempts: 19,201)

I could feel it building. Something fundamental was shifting in how I perceived the entire encounter. I was beginning to truly understand the principles that governed this incredible combat display.

Reading his attacks was getting easier. The micro-tells that had been impossible to catch were becoming clearer, weight shifts, muscle tension, the subtle changes that preceded each strike. And sometimes, just for a split second, I'd catch a glimpse of something else.

Ghostly silhouettes. Faint, transparent echoes that showed me where his next move would go. They appeared and vanished so quickly I almost thought I was imagining them, but they were there. Apparitions that predicted his intentions before they fully manifested.

It wasn't consistent yet, maybe one in every dozen attempts I'd see those phantom outlines. But when they appeared, I could actually start to anticipate instead of just react.

—

Good to stay limber. All this meditation makes everything stiff.

"Mind if we join you?" Tessa asked as I worked through some basic stretches on the training room floor.

"Sure," I said, making room as several of the maids settled down to stretch alongside me. "Though I should warn you, I'm not exactly flexible right now."

"That's what stretching is for," Marina said bluntly, demonstrating a shoulder rotation that looked effortless. "You've been sitting in meditation for hours. Your muscles are probably tighter than a miser's purse strings."

"Your age is showing, not everyone knows what a miser is," I laughed, attempting to copy her movement and immediately feeling the difference in our flexibility.

Marina's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Age? I'll show you age, you little—"

"Marina," Tessa interrupted with a grin, "he's got a point. That's a pretty old-fashioned saying."

"It's a perfectly good expression!" Marina protested. "Just because you youngsters have no appreciation for colorful language doesn't mean it's old!"

You're an elf, you look like you're in your twenties but you're probably older than the street I grew up on.

"We'll get you loosened up," Vera said with a smile, guiding me through a proper hip flexor stretch while clearly trying not to laugh at Marina's indignation.

—

???? (Attempts: 19,999)

The round number meant nothing, but something in the aether realm felt different. Electric. As if the space itself was holding its breath.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

I faced ???? with sharper awareness than I'd ever had. I could read his attacks better now, predict his movements with more accuracy. The way he moved was still incredibly fast, but I was starting to keep up.

The opening sequence came at me and I flowed around it easily. I moved efficiently, getting where I needed to be without wasting energy. Twenty thousand deaths had taught me exactly how to move.

The advanced striking phase came next. I could read where his punches were going and see his intent before he struck. His technique was incredibly skilled, but I was keeping up now. I moved through his attacks, dodging what I could.

The layering began, but I could see it coming now. Seven phases of attack that came faster than anything I'd faced before. I was getting better at reading the pattern.

I was working harder than ever, processing everything as fast as I could. Every technique I'd learned was coming together, helping me fight better than I ever had.

I lasted minutes. Real minutes. Slipping under a spinning heel kick that would have taken my head off, rolling past a knee strike that cracked the air where I'd been standing. I countered with a jab that ???? deflected, followed up with an elbow that he redirected, then spun into a backfist that missed by inches.

We were moving together now, attack and defense flowing like a conversation. He threw a three-punch combination, jab, cross, hook, and I wove between them, close enough to feel the displaced air. I responded with my own sequence, a Muay Thai knee that transitioned into a wrestling takedown attempt. ???? stepped back, avoided the knee, then somehow used my momentum against me to escape the takedown entirely.

And then I saw it.

Between his defensive step and the counter he was setting up, in the space where his perfect flow created its own rhythm, there was a gap. Not a mistake, he didn't make those, but a moment where physics and timing left him briefly exposed.

There it was. An opening.

For the first time since I'd begun this training, I saw a space where I could actually strike back.

My grin turned feral as understanding flooded through me. ???? hadn't been trying to kill me all this time. He had been teaching me. Showing me what combat could become when taken to its limits.

I shifted my weight, muscles coiling as I read the timing. The opening was there, waiting. Small. Precise. Perfect.

I struck without hesitation.

My fist cut through the gap, aimed for the space between his defensive step and his counter. For one moment, I felt the thrill of offense, of finally being able to give instead of just take.

Then ???? moved.

His hand came up in a block so perfectly timed it felt like striking stone. The impact jolted up my arm.

The counterattack came instantly, a straight punch that hit hard.

Darkness.

I snapped back to my aether realm, I surfaced in my aether realm, heart hammering against my ribs. Adrenaline flooded through me as the reality of what had just happened sank in.

Wild laughter erupted from me, echoing through the space with pure excitement

I saw it~

The interface glowed before me:

???? (Attempts: 20,000)

I dove back in immediately.

???? waited, and I launched myself forward with wild abandon. Laughter spilled from my lips as I threw a combination that would have been suicide weeks ago. Jab, cross, hook, each strike aimed at spaces that logic said couldn't be attacked.

????'s defenses materialized like flawless technique given form. My jab met perfect deflection. My cross struck absolute redirection. My hook crashed against impenetrable blocking.

I didn't land a single blow, but I could see more. Three potential openings flickered in and out of existence as ????'s defensive concepts created their own rhythm.

The counterattack obliterated me instantly.

Back in the realm. Heart hammering. Grin widening.

???? (Attempts: 20,001)

Again.

Back in, laughing before I'd even fully materialized. The sound echoed through the space, wild and unrestrained. I feinted left, spun right, and drove an elbow toward a gap that lasted less than a heartbeat.

????'s block appeared like perfectly timed defense, but for that fraction of a second, I'd been close. So close I could taste the possibility of contact.

"Almost!" I gasped through my laughter as darkness claimed me again.

???? (Attempts: 20,002)

More deaths, more attempts to find openings. I was moving differently now, trying everything I could think of to crack his defense. Each attack was an experiment, testing different angles and timing to see what might work.

I threw a spinning backfist that transitioned into a knee strike that somehow became a takedown attempt. ????'s responses were flawless, but I was learning to read the spaces between his defenses. Five openings now, appearing and vanishing like lightning.

My maniacal laughter filled the void as another impossible counter ended my existence.

Again!

???? (Attempts: 20,015)

"Come on!" I shouted through my grin, launching into an assault that ignored every principle of sound combat. Overextended punches that left me wide open. Kicks that sacrificed balance for reach. Grappling attempts that ignored basic positioning.

It should have been suicide. It was suicide. But in that recklessness, I glimpsed something beautiful. ????'s perfect defenses created patterns, and those patterns had rhythm, and rhythm always had gaps.

Seven openings danced before my eyes like mirages. Still too fast, still too precise for me to exploit, but there. Definitely there.

I died laughing.

AGAIN!!

???? (Attempts: 20,027)

Twelve more attempts of relentless experimentation. I was attacking from weird angles, mixing techniques in ways that probably looked ridiculous. I threw punches that led into kicks that somehow became grappling attempts, just to see what would happen.

???? handled each attack easily, but I was learning more about how he defended. Nine potential openings now, some lasting barely a split second. I was starting to understand not just what he did, but why he chose each specific defense.

"Getting warmer!" I laughed as another counter sent me back to the reset.

???? (Attempts: 20,044)

Something was different now. As I launched into my chaotic assault, I felt a familiar tingle, the ghostly silhouettes flickering to life. The apparitions were coming back stronger than they had in weeks.

I could see the phantom outlines as I threw a wild haymaker. For a split second, the transparent echo of ????'s counter appeared, showing me exactly where the killing blow would come from. I couldn't dodge it. I was too committed to my attack, but I saw it.

"Yes!" I screamed through my laughter as the predicted strike ended me perfectly.

???? (Attempts: 20,051)

More deaths of pure experimentation, and the ghostly silhouettes were activating sporadically. I was being shown glimpses of ????'s intentions before they manifested. He operated on principles too complex for me to fully process, yet I could taste enough possibility to drive me forward.

I compressed my aura around my fist as I threw an impossible uppercut, mimicking the technique I'd learned from Sol during the Association's tests. The strike carried more force than it should have, and for one beautiful moment, I felt ???? actually shift to accommodate the enhanced power.

Still blocked effortlessly, but he had to work harder.

My laughter doubled in intensity.

???? (Attempts: 20,067)

More attempts, and patterns were emerging everywhere. The way he moved followed advanced rules of technique, rules that went beyond normal training.

I was starting to read his intent better. I could see what attack was coming and understand why he made certain choices. Why he picked certain blocks over others, how he decided which counter to use.

I threw a combination that borrowed from every martial art I'd absorbed. Boxing's footwork flowing into Muay Thai clinch work that somehow became Capoeira's ground movement. I was synthesizing techniques in real-time, creating hybrid attacks that felt natural despite being unorthodox.

"Getting closer!" I howled as another perfect counter sent me into oblivion.

???? (Attempts: 20,089)

My Origin was working overtime. I could see individual strikes and entire sequences now. Ghostly chains of movement that revealed how ????'s attacks flowed together. I still couldn't dodge them all, he operated too far beyond my current capabilities, but I was beginning to map his patterns.

My aura compression was becoming instinctual, each strike carrying enhanced force as I coiled energy around my limbs. ????'s blocks were still absolute, but I could feel the difference. My attacks were beginning to register on whatever scale he used to measure threat.

I launched into a technique synthesis that I created on the fly. Marina's throwing knife precision combined with Sarah's hammer power and Tessa's rhythmic flow. An attack that existed only in the space between learned technique and pure instinct.

????'s defensive response was fractionally different. More complex. As if he recognized that I was finally beginning to operate on principles he respected.

"MORE!" I screamed, laughter turning feral. "SHOW ME MORE!"

???? (Attempts: 20,112)

I was working at full capacity now, processing everything faster than I ever had before. The ghostly silhouettes were showing me his moves before they happened, I could read his intentions better, and my aura compression was making my strikes hit harder.

I was finally keeping up with him. Actually fighting instead of just surviving.

????'s responses were getting more complex too. His blocks were more precise, his counters more varied. Like he was taking me more seriously now.

And that made me grin even wider.

My laughter reached a crescendo as I prepared for the next one. Already crafting new combinations, new impossible attacks to throw at this beautiful, deadly teacher.

This is what I was born for.

???? (Attempts: 20,113)

Everything was different from the moment I materialized. The ghostly silhouettes were everywhere now, showing me his moves several steps ahead instead of just the next strike.

I moved with fluid precision that used everything I'd learned. ????'s incredibly fast strikes flowed around me like water as I read his attacks and the intent behind each movement.

My first real counterattack came as ???? threw a combination that existed in seven phases simultaneously. I saw the ghostly outline of each angle, and something else… A space between the phases, a gap where ????'s perfect technique created its own vulnerability.

I compressed my aura around my fist and threw an uppercut that borrowed from every technique I'd ever absorbed. Sarah's devastating power, Marina's surgical precision, Elena's perfect timing, all synthesized into something that existed beyond any single martial art.

???? moved to block, his defense materializing like perfectly executed technique.

In that fraction of a second, I had processed what ???? was doing and why he was choosing that specific defense. And in that understanding, I found the counter to the counter.

I twisted mid-strike, redirecting my attack through an angle that was barely possible. My fist slipped past ????'s perfect defense, through a gap in his timing, and for one moment—

BAM!

My knuckles grazed something that felt like touching perfect fighting skill made real. The technique of a master fighter given form. It lasted less than a heartbeat, barely enough to register as a hit, but it was real.

I had touched the untouchable.

????'s counterattack came instantly, a blow that carried devastating force.

Darkness.

I gasped back into awareness in my aether realm, chest heaving like a predator that had caught the scent of prey. My breathing came in sharp, excited pants, the kind of animal sounds that belonged to something wild and dangerous.

Laughter bubbled up from my chest, unhinged and gleeful. The sound echoed through the ethereal space, carrying pure, manic joy.

"I finally landed a hit!" I gasped between fits of maniacal laughter. "I actually touched him!"

The interface glowed before me:

???? (Attempts: 20,114)

I dove back in immediately, hunger blazing in my chest. If I could land one hit, I could land more.

I can do more… Much more~

Seraphina

I stood in the doorway of the meditation chamber, violet eyes fixed on the figure seated in perfect stillness at the room's center. To anyone else, Raiden would have appeared to be in simple meditation, back straight, breathing steady, the training node resting peacefully in his hands.

But I could see what others couldn't.

His aura blazed around him like a contained inferno, dense and refined in ways that defied his Green Rank classification. The energy that surrounded him now was sharper, more complex than anything I'd witnessed from him before. It moved with purpose, flowing in patterns that spoke of rapid evolution and impossible growth.

What are you facing in there?

I'd been personally overseeing his training sessions for weeks now, ever since his obsession had truly taken hold. The other maids had their duties, but this… Watching over Raiden as he pushed himself to new limits required someone with the experience to recognize when those limits might become concerning.

His aura pulsed, a rhythm that had become familiar over the past week. Each pulse carried more force than the last, more refinement. It was like watching someone forge steel, each hammer blow making the metal stronger, more resilient.

But also more dangerous.

I glanced at the holographic timepiece on my wrist. Fifty-eight seconds until his mandatory break. I'd learned not to call him early. He had agreed to one hour out per day, and he held to that agreement with religious precision. Not a second more, not a second less.

His breathing shifted slightly, and his aura spiked. For just a moment, the surrounding energy became something that made my own Violet-rank power take notice. There was a predatory quality to it now, something wild and hungry that hadn't been there when this obsession began.

Fifty-five seconds.

The training node in his hands glowed faintly, responding to whatever was happening in the aether realm. I'd seen plenty of training devices in my time, but this one seemed unusually active. The way it pulsed and shifted in response to his training was unlike anything I'd observed before.

Time.

I moved forward silently, settling onto my knees in front of him. This had become our routine, me waiting in position to call him back. Him fighting whatever impossible battle consumed his every waking moment. The transition was always jarring for him, and I'd learned that a gentle presence helped ground him when he surfaced.

I reached my hand over to rest on his solar plexus, above his Aether Core then stopped.

His lips curved into a smile that would have terrified most people. Even unconscious, even deep in whatever battle he was fighting, that expression carried pure, manic joy. It was the smile of someone who had just tasted something they'd been craving for weeks.

Again, I reached out, moving my hand toward his solar plexus to gently wake him from the training trance.

The moment my fingers neared him, his aura lashed out like a whip.

The force struck me square in the chest, sending me sliding backward across the stone floor. My own Violet-rank aura flared instinctively in defense, but the raw intensity of his energy made my breath catch. This wasn't the controlled power of someone in meditation. This was wild, unrestrained, dangerous.

My eyes widened as I pushed myself back to my feet. Something was wrong. This had never happened before. In all our previous sessions, he'd never reacted to my presence, never shown any defensive response while deep in training. More importantly, he'd never refused to come out.

"Raiden!" I called out, my voice sharp with concern and authority.

Nothing. He remained perfectly still, with that unsettling smile still playing across his lips, completely unaware of what had just happened. His aura continued to burn around him, but now it felt different. Predatory. Like something that had just found its prey.

I tried again, projecting my voice with the full weight of my Violet-rank authority. "Raiden! Surface immediately!"

Still nothing. His breathing remained steady, his posture unchanged. The training node continued to glow in his hands, and that terrifying smile never wavered.

He's always come out before. Always.

Even when he clearly didn't want to, even when I could see the reluctance in his eyes, he honored our deal. But this was different. This wasn't reluctance, this was complete absence. As if he couldn't hear me at all.

My heart began to race as panic crept in. What if something had gone wrong? What if the training node had malfunctioned? What if he was trapped in there, or worse, what if whatever he was fighting had finally killed him for real?

I have to get him out. I have to.

I didn't want to force it. Everything I knew about aether realm extraction warned against violent interruption. It could damage his aura channels, cause permanent trauma, or worse. But he wasn't responding to anything else, and that smile on his face was growing more unsettling by the second.

I don't have a choice…

I stepped forward, raising my hand toward his aether core, channeling my Violet Rank aura. I would force the connection, drag him back to consciousness whether he wanted to come or not. The risk of harm was preferable to leaving him trapped in whatever nightmare had consumed him.

The moment I reached out, immense pressure slammed into me. My hand froze mid-air, trembling against an invisible force that pressed down on me from all directions. My entire body locked in place, muscles straining against the weight that seemed to come from everywhere at once. I couldn't move forward, couldn't pull back, couldn't even turn my head.

"Don't."

The voice came from behind me, calm and measured. The pressure intensified, and suddenly I felt myself being pulled backward. My feet dragged against the marble floor, leaving deep gouges and trails of debris as I was forced away from Raiden despite my desperate attempts to resist.

When the force finally released me, I stumbled and spun around to find Chronos standing in the doorway, his expression serious but strangely calm.

"Don't disturb him," he said quietly.

"What's wrong with you?" I yanked myself fully free from the lingering pressure, my voice rising with desperation and fury. "Why aren't you concerned? Look at him! This training node has been consuming him for weeks. He won't come out when called! Something's wrong with that device!"

Chronos didn't flinch at my outburst. If anything, his expression grew more patient. "I'm aware of his condition, Seraphina."

"Aware?" I could hear my voice becoming shrill, but I didn't care. "He's lost in there! Something's wrong with that device. It's taken over his mind. It's—"

"Of course I know about the node," Chronos interrupted, his voice carrying a weight that made me stop mid-sentence. "I'm the one who made it."

I stared at him in shock, the words not fully registering at first. Then the implications hit me like a physical blow, and shock transformed into something much darker. My aura flared as I manifested an Elven blade in my hand, its edge gleaming with deadly intent.

"You—" I stepped back from him, my weapon raised between us. "You made this?"

Chronos showed no reaction to the manifested weapon or my threatening posture. He just stood there watching Raiden with that same maddening expression.

I moved closer, the blade steady in my grip despite my fury. My aura pressed outward with crushing force, filling the chamber with power that should have made any normal person buckle. But Chronos acted as if neither my aura nor my weapon existed.

"I won't let you stop me from helping him," I snarled, raising the blade higher. "I don't care if you're his master or what you've done."

Chronos sighed, a sound of mild disappointment. "You really know nothing about him, do you?"

Without warning, I lunged forward, the Elven blade cutting through the air in a perfect arc aimed at his shoulder. Not to kill, but to disable, to get him out of my way so I could reach Raiden.

Chronos didn't move. Didn't dodge. Didn't even shift his weight.

My blade should have connected. The angle was perfect, the speed more than sufficient. But somehow, impossibly, it passed right through the space where he stood as if he wasn't there at all. Not like he'd become incorporeal, but as if space itself had bent around him, guiding my strike harmlessly past.

I stumbled forward, off-balance from the missed attack, and spun back to face him. He remained exactly where he'd been, that infuriating calm expression unchanged.

I might need to use that...

Chronos chuckled, a warm sound that was completely at odds with what had just happened. "Tell me, Seraphina," he said, his voice carrying genuine curiosity. "Do you really know Rai? The real Rai?"

I hesitated, the question catching me off guard. The blade trembled slightly in my grip.

"When he faces a challenge that truly excites him, what happens?" Chronos continued, his tone becoming almost conversational. "When he finds an opponent worthy of his attention, how does he change?"

My attack faltered completely as his words sank in. I thought of the sparring sessions, the way Raiden's whole demeanor would shift when someone managed to surprise him.

"Calm down," Chronos said gently. "I'm not planning on letting any harm come to him. Quite the opposite, actually."

"How could you do this to him?" I snarled, my voice shaking with rage. "Look at what it's done! He's been consumed by this thing for weeks! He won't respond when called, he's completely lost in there! And you just... you just let it happen?"

"I made this node specifically with someone like Rai in mind," Chronos said calmly, his tone maddeningly casual. "I know how he is, Seraphina. Once he sets his mind to something, he can't be stopped. No force in existence could pull him away from a challenge he's truly committed to."

"Then why aren't you concerned?" I demanded, my aura flaring brighter. "Why are you standing there grinning like this is some kind of joke?"

"Because I knew you and the maids would get through to him," he replied, finally looking at me directly. "I knew you'd bring him back from that initial spiral, help him find balance. And you did, didn't you? You made him honor that deal, forced him to take breaks, to remember he has people who care about him."

I opened my mouth to argue, but he continued before I could speak.

"But right now, he's just made a significant breakthrough. Something he's been working toward for weeks. I intend to let him see it through."

"Breakthrough?" I stared at him incredulously. "What kind of breakthrough requires this level of obsession? What did you put in there?"

His grin widened. "Something that will forge him into The Apex. You see, Seraphina, most people think training is about learning techniques, building strength, accumulating knowledge. But for someone like Raiden? True growth comes from being pushed past every limit he thought he had."

"And if he comes back changed?" I stepped closer, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "If this thing breaks his mind, if he becomes something else entirely, if he never comes back at all, then I'll—"

"You think this obsession is changing him?" Chronos interrupted, his voice suddenly serious. "But what if it's simply revealing who he's always been?"

I faltered, taken aback by his words. "What does that have to—"

"The maids have told you about their sparring sessions, haven't they? How his whole demeanor shifts when someone manages to surprise him?" Chronos's eyes gleamed with something between amusement and genuine curiosity.

I thought back to the reports from the maids, the way they'd described his manic grin when someone managed to surprise him, the gleeful laughter when Sarah had broken his arm during sparring.

"They tell me he becomes... intense," I admitted reluctantly.

"Intense," Chronos repeated, chuckling. "That's one word for it. Battle-drunk might be more accurate. Completely obsessed with pushing himself and his opponent to their absolute limits. So tell me, Seraphina, when he emerges from this training, do you honestly believe he'll be a different man? Or will he be exactly the same Raiden who cares about the people in his life, just... more?"

I stared at him, my aura still flaring but my certainty wavering. "I... he's never been this consumed before."

"Because he's never found a challenge this perfect before," Chronos said quietly. "But the man who honored your deal, who took those breaks, who called his family even when every fiber of his being wanted to stay in that chamber? That man is still in there. This obsession hasn't changed who he is, Seraphina. It's just revealed what he's capable of when he finds something truly worthy of his dedication."

Chronos chuckled, the sound cutting through my threat like it was nothing. "He'll be back, Seraphina. You don't need to worry about that. He's just a battle-crazed nut who's finally found something worthy of his obsession. Trust me, nothing could keep him away from the people he cares about for long."

I stared at him, my aura still flaring with anger, but his words gave me pause. Despite everything, despite the obsession and the isolation, Raiden had made the effort. He'd honored our deal, taken those breaks, called his family. Even when every fiber of his being clearly wanted to return to whatever consumed him in that device, he'd kept his word to us.

He'd shown that we mattered to him, even when this training was all he could think about.

If I'm going to entrust myself and everyone in this household to him... if I truly believe he's someone worth following...

I let my aura settle and dismissed the Elven blade, the weapon dissolving into wisps of energy. Though my expression remained hard.

"Fine," I said quietly. "We'll see how this plays out. But Chronos—" I fixed him with a deadly stare. "If something happens to him because of this, if he comes back broken or doesn't come back at all, I will hold you personally responsible."

Chronos laughed, a genuine sound of amusement. "I'll accept that responsibility gladly."

He paused, his grin turning slightly mischievous. "Though honestly, I'm more afraid of his mother than I am of you. Have you met Mrs. Alaric when she's upset? Terrifying woman."

A shiver ran down my spine at the thought. I had indeed met Mrs. Alaric, and while she was kind and warm under normal circumstances, there was something about her that suggested crossing her would be... unwise.

I nodded slowly. "Point taken."

With that settled, I walked back to Raiden and knelt down in front of him, settling into the same position I'd taken countless times before. I closed my eyes and let my breathing steady, preparing to wait for however long this breakthrough would take.

Come back to us when you're ready, Raiden. We'll be here.