The Ascender's Legacy [A CHAOTIC STORM LITRPG]

Deep within the hospital's basement, inside an energy concealment room that also served as a holding chamber for those under the twisted effect, Aldric sat cross-legged in meditation, his back straight and his breath measured.

The chamber was silent, but within him, there was a storm. Not of rage, nor power—but of emotion.

Rather than suppress his emotions as was expected for a meditation session, Aldric amplified them, letting them swell within him in almost tangible waves. They bubbled in his chest and thundered in his ears, overwhelming his senses and making it nearly impossible to think. But that was his goal today. Unlike any other day, today was the one when he needed to be in touch with his emotions the most.

Scattered around him were the contents of his spatial ring—a mess of items, treasures, and body-enhancing technique scrolls. The smuggling business might be a criminal one, but no one could say it wasn't lucrative.

In the few months since he started working for the Ravens, Aldric had gained a great deal—knowledge, experience, wealth, and exposure chief among them. But he'd also acquired other, less quantifiable things: items, treasures—and even more treasures.

Some he'd stolen from smugglers like himself, others he'd bought outright, and a few he'd received as payment—like the Empathion core he got from Baron Shrapanelly. Over the last seven months, any treasure that so much as resonated with him, Aldric had managed to either steal or purchase—more often than not tricking the original owners into parting with them for far less than they were worth. He was no saint.

So far, he'd managed to gather about two dozen empathic treasures. Most were simply uncommon-ranked, giving off faint traces of psychic and empathic energy, but a few were of higher rank, some even more powerful than the Empathion core itself, a rare-ranked treasure.

They lay around him now, pulsing to a rhythm only they could hear. It was eerie, watching them pulse in tandem, but Aldric suspected they were responding to the frequency of the earth itself. They were natural treasures, after all—born of ÆFLYM, like the soulseeds at the wellsprings.

Unlike soulseeds, however, these treasures had no specific location in which they appeared. They simply grew in energy-dense areas, much like awakened plants, though they were far rarer. Even now, each treasure emitted a steady aura of empathic energy that caused the energy-sparse chamber to quickly become dense with empathic essence.

Aldric let the dense energies buffet him without opening his eyes, his thoughts little more than a whisper in his own mind. Still, even in this silence and emptiness of the chamber, he was aware of the world, of others, and of the way they saw people like him.

Many believed that empaths were the ones who lacked empathy the most—and in a sense, they were right. But Aldric didn't think that was true for him. He was pretty empathetic. Too empathetic, if he was being honest. Still, he could understand why people saw it that way.

Who could blame the empaths, though? It was a curse—to constantly feel the emotions of everyone around you. Every subtle shift, every ripple in their emotional pool. Every desire. Every fear. It was a burden, carrying the weight of so many feelings: the silent sorrow behind forced smiles, the simmering resentment beneath polite words, and the hate and envy masked by bright expressions.

Most people had no idea how much of themselves they revealed with every breath. After years of feeling and manipulating those emotions, was it really so surprising that empaths had developed a kind of immunity? That they weren't quite as moved by it all as the rest of the populace?

But maybe immunity wasn't the only reason behind their seeming lack of empathy. The concept itself was more abstract than conceptual—an intangible part of the soul, rather than any law or pillar of reality.

Emotions were flimsy, ever-changing, and nearly impossible to hold onto. And yet, Aldric had always seen them as a force of reality—or perhaps even the first force. Before language, before reason, before even the self, there was emotion: anger, fear, desire, and love. They might not have been the building blocks of reality, but no one could deny they shaped it—or, at the very least, shaped how we perceived it.

They colored the world in simple ways. Sadness dimmed it into something bleak. Desire painted it in bright and vivid colors. Fear cloaked it in darkness. And pain twisted it into something distant and unrecognizable.

All these emotions—despite their abstract and intangible nature—had an unquantifiable impact on the world around them. Empathy, then, wasn't just about sensing, understanding, and manipulating emotions; it was about touching upon the very foundation of existence itself.

This understanding led Aldric to realize that "empathy" was too tame a word to describe his affinity. Reaching out with mental fingers, he opened his spirit to the origin plane of emotions—a world without thought or form, shaped solely by feeling. He gasped in a mixture of pain and pleasure as a torrent of chaotic emotions poured into his being, blending with his already heightened emotions and drowning him further.

The origin plane of emotions wasn't a realm of fire or turbulent storms, but it was a personal tribulation all the same—filled with regret so heavy it crushed spirits, desire so intense it could forge new stars, and hatred so deep it could unmake reality itself.

Opening himself to this plane was a constant tempering of his spirit, one that usually left him raw and bruised. It was a process of not only enduring those emotions but understanding the weight they carried—an understanding that the world had no real grasp of.

The world thought of empathy as kindness, as the scary manipulation of emotions, or as something fragile. Aldric had once thought the same—until he began to experience it firsthand. At first, he had thought of himself and others like him as weak, watered-down versions of telepaths, but now, he knew differently. Empathy was not softness or trickery. It was Dominion.

This realization wasn't a new one, but something he had known and cultivated while among the Ravens—a group of smugglers and thieves held together only by their greed for a better life and a shared hatred for torture.

Aldric still remembered the first time he'd stepped onto one of their many boats alongside Eldridge—a curious second-year student from the 12th Academy, with little to no prospects ahead of him.

At the time, Aldric had been averse to the things they did, yet also intrigued by them. Fresh from the Warren, he'd been his mother's perfect little boy—too scared to do anything that would make people fear him more than they already did. But after Eldridge had smuggled Aodhán and Daruk away from the Warren all those months ago, Aldric had decided it was time to take control of his life and do something worthwhile with it.

That decision had stemmed mostly from his greed for power and a deep desire to make himself and his parents proud. But it also arose from envy—and the dawning realization that if he didn't seize his future, Aodhán and Daruk would leave him behind to rot in the swamp of the Warren, or some other grim place in the lower sectors. The most he could ever achieve in the Warren was mayor, sitting on a treasury barely worth a hundred gold coins.

Joining the Ravens had given him a chance to change his fate, and barely an hour on his first ship, Aldric had realized his first unofficial role. The manager of emotions, they had called him, as he'd moved about cluelessly, straining to keep all the tension and fear of the other seafarers under control.

It had been incredibly hard at first, but after a week of constantly working on smoothing out the rough emotional edges of the other seafarers, Aldric had gotten the hang of things. He didn't directly manipulate or influence their emotions; he simply helped them manage them better.

However, it wasn't until they'd encountered a wind-origin breach near the Locrian Gulf of Unoros that Aldric truly understood the importance of his role. Rather than succumbing to panic or fear, his comrades faced the cyclone of howling winds and gales with steady determination and cold logic, completely focused and united, while he nearly died pressing down on the emotions of dozens all at once.

It was in that moment that Aldric had come to realize the true nature of his affinity. Empathy wasn't just about understanding—it was manipulation. It was control. But above all, it was tyranny.

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That realization was what had led him to come up with this idea, despite its dangers. He knew he was being selfish, but after Aodhán's stunt at the Steppin' Plains, he'd been unable to get the thought out of his mind. The moment Aodhán had given him the chance to ask, Aldric couldn't resist.

Now that he knew the true potential of his affinity, he wanted more. He wanted to push the boundaries of his class, to test the limits of what empathy could truly do.

He wasn't expecting Aodhán's skill to suddenly help him break the limits of his class, but he was certain he would break something, if not with his understanding and inspiration alone, then with the dozens of treasures he was about to absorb.

Breathing deeply, he continued his meditation, his back straight and fingers still, until Aodhán texted that he and Daruk were on their way. By then, his spirit was utterly drenched in chaos—a perfect foundation for what he was about to do.

Opening his eyes, Aldric grabbed the first treasure in reach—a hollow black fang. The memory of how he'd stolen it from a traveling merchant was still fresh in his mind. The fang was a curved, blackened tooth, etched with ancient red runes that pulsed with an unmistakable aura of sovereignty.

It was one of his most prized treasures, and although Aldric wasn't certain of its exact rank, he suspected it was above rare.

Raising the fang to eye level, he studied it for a moment before swallowing it whole. The moment the fang touched his tongue, it dissolved into black essence. Aldric grimaced as his world instantly rocked. Reality flickered as the black essence surged toward his core, burning a fiery path through his pathways—but bringing no pain.

The moment it reached his core, Aldric gasped as information poured into his mind—images, ideas, thoughts, concepts—an overwhelming torrent of foreign inspiration that caused his core to roil and blaze brightly, its silver essence now tainted by a deep black that spread and turned it ashen".

Runic markings, eerily similar to those etched into the fang, flickered across Aldric's skin—but he barely noticed. His hand was already reaching for the next treasure—the tip of a Bloodtyrant's horn crown.

The Bloodtyrant was a beast of absolute dominance over its herd—a buffalo-like creature with bloodred skin and abyssal eyes. It was an incredibly rare creature with nearly all of its power concentrated within its horns, and though it wasn't exactly empathic in nature, Aldric had sensed a strange resonance between the creature's innate tyranny and his own evolving understanding.

Like the hollow fang, the horn tip dissolved the instant it touched his tongue. It surged into his core, dyeing the already ashen energy a deep, bloodred hue before settling into a smoldering reddish ash.

For the next few minutes, Aldric consumed treasure after treasure.

With each item he absorbed, his mind swelled, straining to contain the storm of inspiration and imagery flooding in. Each fragment of understanding cried out for contemplation, demanding to be studied—but even unexamined, they pushed the boundaries of his knowledge, interlinking with his existing insight like puzzle pieces snapping into place.

His core pulsed and shimmered, its hues shifting with every new influence—silver to ash, ash to crimson, crimson to storm-gray, and back again. Insight into empathy, tyranny, and control layered upon one another, building higher, deeper, and louder.

And from within the chaos, thoughts emerged—unbidden, unfiltered, and undeniable. Pain does not fade. Love does not die. Devotion does not weaken. Emotions are unshackled.

Without hesitation, Aldric pressed on, swallowing one treasure after another without pause. He didn't stop to digest their gifts or inspect the changes they wrought in his mind, body, or spirit. He would have more than enough time for that later.

His thoughts began to grind under the pressure. His mind groaned with every fresh infusion of insight until finally, he got to the last treasure—a small, translucent pearl core that pulsed with steady emotional resonance. It was the Empathion core Baron Shrapanelly had given him. Clasping the small core with shuddering fingers, Aldric swallowed it.

It slid down his throat without resistance, then entered his spirit. From there, it began a steady, fiery descent through his pathways toward his core. Aldric's entire body tensed as pain ignited in his chest. The Empathion Core pulsed with rhythmic waves of raw emotion, and with each pulse, his true core vibrated violently—straining and shuddering under the pressure.

Fragments of his own understanding rushed to the surface of his mind, joining the cacophony of insight that already filled his mind—pushing him to the very limit of what he could safely handle.

When the Empathion core finally entered his core, Aldric's entire body flared golden, and his core flashed brightly, becoming entirely translucent for a few seconds before returning to a purple hue so deep it was almost black.

Gasping, he forced himself to keep his spirit open to the origin plane despite the pain, drowning his already saturated spirit in the chaotic essence rushing into him. With a trembling breath, Aldric opened his eyes and whispered, "Where's Champion Rhyntharion?"

"I am here."

The voice came from behind him, and Aldric looked back to see a holographic projection of Geneva Rhyntharion staring at him curiously. When their gazes locked, she offered him a slight grimace. "We couldn't find a way to sneak me in here without Zatya Malakov finding out, so I sent Aodhán a projection array tuned specifically to me. As for stopping you from dying… well," she shrugged lightly, "I'm just across the street in case something goes wrong. Hopefully, I won't have to test myself against the academy's wards. I fear the Academy won't like the outcome."

Aldric gave a small nod. "Thank you for being here."

Geneva tilted her head. "I'm not here for you, Aldric. I'm here to satisfy my curiosity. If things turn out well… then perhaps we can talk."

"It'll turn out well," Aodhán interjected, not willing to think about anything else. He turned to Aldric, jaw tight. "Are you ready?"

"I am," Aldric nodded again, his entire body shuddering from the amount of foreign energy and essence he'd packed into his body within a short amount of time.

Aodhán exhaled and then summoned a storm cloud into existence. It was only a foot or two in diameter. It rolled directly over Aldric's head, and with a flick of Aodhán's fingers, it burst apart to unleash a drizzle of rain onto Aldric.

"Here we go," Aodhán murmured nervously, and then walked forward, his steps echoing eerily against the marble floor. Aldric's shuddering intensified with each step Aodhán took toward him, his bloodshot gaze fixed on Aodhán's lightning gold irises, which seemed to shine brighter the closer he came.

This was a convergence point. Aldric wasn't sensitive to the workings of destiny, not like Diviners or Seers, but even he could feel it—a presence above, watching, weaving. It was in the pressure, in the crackle of the air, in the cold certainty crawling up his spine.

From the very moment his father had found Aodhán in the Warren Forest and adopted him into their family, this moment had been inevitable. It had been written. And today, it would be fulfilled.

When Aodhán closed the distance between them, Aldric looked up at him, eyes shining with conviction. "Do it."

Aodhán nodded, and, with a frown of determination, he opened his spirit to the origin plane of storm. Chaotic storm essence surged into his spirit like a tidal wave, eliciting a gasp of painful pleasure from Aodhán, but it was nothing compared to the growl of pure ecstasy and power that came next when he harnessed his two seals at once.

Heat exploded within Aodhán, so overwhelming and scorching that steam rose off his skin in dense waves as quintessence roared through his pathways to join the stream of chaotic storm essence rushing into his spirit.

The collision of chaos and quintessence inside him was violent. It drained a huge amount of willpower from him, but Aodhán barely noticed, too busy grabbing hold of both energy streams to prevent an explosion within his spirit. Slowly, he fused both streams into a ball of chaotic quintessence, draining another chunk of willpower to keep it stable. The cost in willpower wasn't negligible, but Aodhán didn't care. He had promised Aldric to give it his all, and that was what he would do.

The molten ball of chaotic quintessence twisted and revolved in volatile harmony—having become something more profound than each individual energy. It was a black-gold force, so dense it moved almost like liquid, and with each revolution, it grew even heavier. But Aodhán wasn't done.

Straining to keep the swirling energy under control, Aodhán channeled the energy within his core into the mix, groaning as the white-gold electricity caused a boom of thunder to echo in the spirit.

The swirling mixture of chaotic quintessence grew denser, and Aodhán's spirit groaned. Gritting his teeth in determination, Aodhán unleashed his aura next, causing an overwhelming pressure to descend upon the chamber. He wasn't sure what his aura would do or of what benefit it might be, but he added it anyway, infusing the swirling ball of volatile energy with the supremacy of the storm.

It was too much for him to hold.

He couldn't contain it.

Energy slipped from his grasp, rupturing inside him. Panic flashed—then:

"Hold it," Geneva instructed, her voice hard and firm, brooking no argument.

Aodhán tried his best to hold on to all of it, but he couldn't. Energy leaked from his grasp, bursting apart in his spirit, but before it could cause too much damage, Aodhán channeled all that energy into {Eye of the Storm}, exhaling in relief as the energy left his spirit space and poured into his pathways.

It roared through his pathways so loud that it deafened him, but the instant {Eye of the Storm} activated, shifting from its passive to an active state, Aodhán experienced such a profound peace that it was indescribable. Time came to an abrupt halt. The world around him stilled, and Aodhán felt his control quadruple, stretching far into the advanced class.

It was so much that Aodhán felt he could wipe out a whole village with {Lightning Descent} if he tried. His clarity and perception had soared so high that his evolved mind struggled to keep up with it. Knowing that he couldn't exist in this state for too long, Aodhán grabbed a single droplet of rain with {Storm Manipulation} and infused it with all that he had.

Willpower and energy further drained from him like water through a sieve, washing out of his core to manifest in reality as a cloud of destructive energy that surged out to engulf the entire chamber. The droplet, however, glowed golden with an intensity so blinding that it formed a bastion of peace and calm around them.

With shaky fingers, Aodhán released the blinding droplet, and Aldric raised himself forward, eyes going wide as the droplet splashed against his forehead and sent all that overwhelmingly volatile energy straight into his mind—a mind so congested with insight, ideas, and understanding on the concept of empathy, control, and resonance.

Aldric groaned loudly as his mind stretched. And stretched. And stretched until it completely broke the barriers of what should have been possible