He led me to the kitchen, a gleaming, spacious area that somehow felt out of place in the brutalist training hall. Stainless steel counters, a double-door fridge, and enough high-end cooking gadgets to make a professional chef weep. Chronos opened the fridge, revealing stacks of meal-prepped containers filled with boiled chicken, plain rice, and an assortment of unseasoned vegetables.
“This,” he said, waving a hand at the bland array, “is how I normally handle meals. Simple, efficient, and completely void of personality.”
I stared at the fridge, unimpressed. “I see you’ve taken direct inspiration from the Sentinels’ mess hall on ‘Beyond Scared Straight: Ascendant’s Edition’.”
I swear that show made me never want to visit their prison specifically.
Chronos shrugged. “Fuel is fuel. But since you’re here, and I’ve heard rumors that you can actually cook…” His smirk returned. “I figure it’s time you earn your keep. Take whatever you need and whip something up for us.”
“Us?”
“Why yes, this is part of the training. Getting into a routine and sticking with it. Since you’ll be making your own meals, why not make mine as well.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small swell of pride at the compliment hidden in his teasing. Cooking wasn’t just something I did, it was something I was good at, thanks to my mom. She’d always made me help her in the kitchen since I was ten, saying things like, “I’m not raising a son who can’t support himself,” which I eventually realized was code for, “Women love a man who can cook.” By the time I hit thirteen, I knew the basics like the back of my hand. I can easily make myself a simple meal.
I glanced over the fridge’s contents, taking mental inventory. “Chicken, rice, veggies… Couldn’t spring for a spice rack?”
Chronos raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like a guy who uses a spice rack?”
I crossed my arms, “So you’re telling me, you, a married man, didn’t once question how your wife’s cooking was different compared to yours?”
He paused, his confident smirk faltering for just a second. “First of all,” he said, pointing at me with a wooden spoon he’d grabbed from the counter, “my wife never needed me in the kitchen. She had it handled.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, the grin spreading across my face. I leaned over to a non-existent camera and said, “Translation: You’d find a way to burn the water and freeze the stove.”
Chronos snorted, shaking his head. “She trusted me with plenty, just not her spices. And for good reason.”
“Clearly,” I shot back, gesturing at the fridge full of boiled chicken. “You’ve been lost ever since.”
He strode to one of the shelves and pulled open a cabinet, revealing rows of spices, some of which still had the seals intact. With a challenging grin, he gestured at the display. “Alright, genius. Show me what you’ve got. Let’s see if you can actually back up all that mouth.”
I blinked, caught off guard for a moment, but quickly stepped forward. “Oh, you’re on,” I said, cracking my knuckles. I scanned the spices, already forming a plan in my head. If there was one thing my mom drilled into me, it was how to turn even the blandest ingredients into something incredible.
With a confident huff, I rolled up my sleeves, washed my hands, and got to work as a new found energy began to well within me. Chronos leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed, watching me with a raised eyebrow like he was trying to figure out if I was about to embarrass myself or pull off a miracle.
I started with the chicken, seasoning it with a mix of smoked paprika, garlic powder, and a dash of cayenne for heat. The spices clung to the meat as I rubbed them in, the vibrant red and orange hues already making it look more alive than the boiled sadness I’d seen earlier.
As the chicken sizzled in the pan, I turned to the vegetables, a mix of bell peppers, zucchini, and snap peas. I chopped them with practiced precision, my knife hitting the cutting board in a rhythm that felt second nature. Chronos raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as I tossed the vegetables into another pan with a splash of olive oil.
Next came the sauce. I deglazed the chicken pan with a bit of chicken broth, scraping up the browned bits stuck to the bottom. Then I added a splash of soy sauce for umami, a touch of honey for sweetness, and a squeeze of fresh lemon juice to balance it all out. The liquid bubbled and thickened as I whisked in a knob of butter, creating a glossy, savory sauce that smelled downright heavenly.
Just the way Dad likes it. As Mom would say.
Chronos sniffed the air, his skeptical expression softening into one of intrigue. “Impressive,” he muttered, his voice low but audible over the bubbling pans. “Didn’t expect you to actually know what you’re doing.”
I smirked, tossing the vegetables one last time in the pan before plating. “What can I say? My mom didn’t raise a son who can’t fend for himself. Which just means she’s preparing me to impress a girl.” The last part sounded more like a mutter.
“Well, I suppose I owe her thanks for letting me rent a personal chef for a few months,” he quipped, watching as I poured the sauce over the perfectly seared chicken.
“With this kind of service I’d expect a pay increase, if any pay at all,” I shot back, adding the vegetables to the plate. I handed him the finished dish with a little flourish. “Alright, try this. See how your poor excuse of a meal compares.”
Chronos took the plate, his usual smirk faltering as he caught a whiff of the dish. He picked up a fork, cut a piece of chicken, and dipped it into the glossy sauce before taking a bite. The moment the food hit his tongue, his expression changed. His eyes widened, and he froze mid-chew like he’d just been hit by a revelation.
I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. “Well?”
He swallowed, looking at the plate with something that could only be described as reverence. “What… is this sorcery?”
“Uh, it’s called spices dumbass, if you eat unseasoned chicken all the time just adding salt and pepper would be enough to make you lose your mind.” I said, smirking.
He ignored me, shoveling another bite into his mouth. Then another. It was like he’d forgotten I was even there. The vegetables didn’t stand a chance, and the chicken was vanishing so quickly I half-wondered if he was inhaling it.
“Okay, okay,” he said finally, setting the empty plate on the counter with a dramatic sigh of satisfaction. He turned to me, clasping his hands together like he was about to plead his case. “Rai, listen. I know you’re here to train and all that, but I’m begging you, please keep cooking. You’ve ruined me.”
I blinked, caught completely off guard. “Ruined you? What are you even talking about?”
He gestured wildly toward the fridge. “This! That poor excuse for food I’ve been eating, boiled chicken, plain rice, it’s nothing but fuel! But this?” He pointed at the empty plate with an exaggerated flourish. “This is art. How am I supposed to go back to eating like a caveman after this?”
“Sounds like a you problem,” I said, leaning back against the counter, grinning.
Chronos grabbed the edge of the counter, looking at me with mock desperation. “Come on, kid. You can’t just give me a taste of paradise and then leave me to rot in mediocrity! I’ll pay you. I’ll even spare you an extra lap tomorrow.”
I snorted, shaking my head. “Oh, so now I’m supposed to be your personal chef? Yeah, sure, because training to death isn’t enough.”
“I’m serious,” he said, though his grin betrayed his amusement. “If you keep cooking like this, I might actually survive this training ordeal myself. You wouldn’t let your mentor starve, would you?”
“Starve?” I laughed. “Chronos, you’ve got a fridge full of food. You’re fine. Also, aren’t Ascendants supposed to not need to eat as often?”
He waved off my comment with a dismissive flick of his hand. “Sure, we don’t need to eat as often, but when we do, it should at least be edible. What you've made here,” he gestured emphatically towards the now empty plate, “is miles beyond just edible.”
I folded my arms, raising an eyebrow. “Really laying it on thick, aren’t you?”
Chronos leaned in, his voice earnest, eyes wide with a hint of theatrical desperation. “You don't understand, Rai. Eating what you cooked after surviving on my own cooking is like going from licking the mold off your prison cell walls to suddenly dining at a Michelin-star restaurant. The stark difference might just make you weep with joy—or cry for the time you've lost eating anything else.”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
I stared at him, trying to stifle a laugh. “That’s an image...”
He straightened, his usual smirking self returning as he caught the humor in his own words. “But it’s accurate. You have a gift, and it would be a shame to waste it. Especially on someone who appreciates it as much as I do.”
Seeing him play up his plight, I shook my head in mock resignation. “Fine, I’ll cook. But you owe me, and I’m not just talking about skipping a lap or two. We’re going to need to renegotiate my training schedule.”
“Deal,” Chronos agreed quickly, relief washing over his features. “Anything you want, chef.”
“Don’t call me chef,” I retorted, though a smile was playing at the edges of my lips.
He chuckled, picking up his fork again as if hoping there might still be a stray crumb to savor. “No promises. You might just earn that title whether you want it or not.”
As Chronos attempted to salvage any last remnants of the meal, I finally took a seat to try some of the food myself. Scooping up a forkful, I allowed myself a moment to enjoy the fruits of my labor. The flavors melded together perfectly—the slight kick of the cayenne, the richness of the sauce, and the freshness of the vegetables. It was good, really good.
Chronos watched me eat, a smirk tugging at his lips. “So, how does it feel being your own biggest fan?”
I laughed, setting down my fork. “It feels justified when the food is actually edible. But let’s talk about something else, this training of yours. It’s brutal. Are you planning on keeping it this rough?”
He nodded, his expression turning serious. “The physical training has to be consistent, and yes, rough. You’re here not just to learn martial arts, but to excel in them. Your body needs to be as prepared as your mind. This early phase, the one that’s making you question all your life choices, is about building a foundation. Stronger, faster, more resilient.”
I took another bite, mulling over his words. The food helped take the edge off the soreness that seemed to have settled into every muscle. “So, it’s all just a head start? You’re pushing this hard now so I won’t fall apart later?”
“Exactly,” Chronos replied, leaning back in his chair. “What we’re doing now is tempering you, like steel. We push hard at the start to build up your endurance and strength. That way, when you start the actual martial arts training, you’ll be able to handle it. You won’t just be keeping up; you’ll be setting the pace.”
I considered this, feeling a mix of apprehension and excitement. The thought of reaching that level of ability was enticing, but the road there was daunting. “And you think I can really get to that point?”
Chronos’ gaze met mine, steady and unwavering. “I wouldn’t be pushing you this hard if I didn’t think you could handle it. You’ve got potential, Rai. More than you realize. But potential alone isn’t enough. You need to forge it into something real.”
Finishing my meal, I felt a renewed sense of determination stir within me. The food was not just nourishment; it was a brief respite, a moment of enjoyment amidst the grueling routine. “Alright,” I said, standing and collecting the dishes. “Let’s move forward then. And tomorrow, maybe ease up on the ‘chef’ comments?”
Chronos laughed, shaking his head as he stood to help clear the table. “No promises, Rai. But I’ll consider it.”
As we left the kitchen together, I felt strangely grateful for the hardship and even for Chronos’ relentless drive. If this was the path to becoming stronger, then maybe, just maybe, it was worth all the sweat and tears. And if nothing else, at least I could cook a decent meal, that had to count for something.
While Chronos led me to where I’d be staying, he spoke again, “Ah, and one more thing.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out something small. In his hand was what looked like a pill—glossy and metallic, catching the light as he held it between his fingers.
“This,” he said, offering it to me, “is called the Steel Forged Pill. It’s a supplement to help with your muscle growth while you sleep. Think of it as a little extra boost to help your body recover from the day’s tortu- ahem, training.”
I eyed the pill warily. It seemed innocuous enough, but the name alone was enough to make me hesitate. “Steel Forged? Sounds intense.”
“It’s perfectly safe, I assure you,” Chronos said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Developed for Ascendants and Non-Ascendants alike who need to recover quickly between training sessions. It speeds up the repair and strengthening of muscle fibers. You’ll feel less sore in the morning, and it’ll help you build strength at an accelerated pace. But don’t think this is a magic pill that will just make you shredded in a few weeks. What makes the pill work best is when you are actually putting in the work to utilize its effects.”
Taking the pill from him, I turned it over between my fingers. The day had been grueling, and the thought of anything that might ease the aches was tempting. “Any side effects?” I asked, half-joking.
“Only good ones,” he replied with a chuckle. “You might wake up feeling like you can bench press a train. Don’t actually try to though, there have been so many lawsuits for people hurting themselves just from them overestimating it’s effects. Just make sure to take it with water, and right before bed.”
“Alright,” I said, still a bit skeptical but trusting his judgment. After all, Chronos hadn’t steered me wrong yet. I pocketed the pill. “Thanks, I guess. Here’s hoping I turn into a White ranked Ascendant overnight.”
“Don’t get your hopes too high—you won’t be leaping buildings just yet. But you’ll definitely start feeling stronger,” he assured me as we arrived at a simple but comfortable room. It was sparsely furnished, with just a bed, a desk, and a small wardrobe.
As he left me at the door, Chronos turned and added, “Get some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll push even harder.”
I nodded, though the thought of ‘pushing harder’ made my already sore muscles recoil in fear. Once inside my room, the minimalist setup was immediately comforting in its simplicity. The bedroom was streamlined with a bed dressed in crisp white linens, a sleek dresser for my clothes, and a large window that provided a view of the relentless training grounds. I placed the Steel Forged Pill on the dresser and made my way to the bathroom.
The space was modern and uncomplicated, featuring polished concrete walls and floors that gave it an industrial yet refined look. It was equipped with just the essentials: a spacious glass shower with a rainfall showerhead, a simple sink, and a toilet. Matte black fixtures complemented the stark, clean lines of the design.
Relieved at the thought of a hot shower, I stepped into the bathroom and stripped off my sweat-soaked gear. The modern simplicity of the space felt almost therapeutic as I turned on the water, and soon the glass enclosure was filling with steam. I stepped under the rainfall showerhead, letting the hot water cascade down over my aching muscles, washing away the grime and tension of the day.
As I lathered up, my eyes caught sight of a brand-new toothbrush and tube of toothpaste laid out next to the sink. They were still in their packaging, a small but thoughtful provision that made the place feel less like a temporary lodging and more like home. After the shower, I dried off and took care of my teeth, appreciating the minty freshness and the feeling of cleanliness.
I will no longer take for granted personal hygiene.
Back in the bedroom, I pulled on a set of clean athleisure wear from the dresser. The fabric was soft and comfortable, perfect for a good night's rest. I then walked over to the dresser where I had left the Steel Forged Pill. Picking it up, I glanced at it once more, its sleek, metallic surface reflecting the soft light of the room. With a resigned sigh mixed with a hint of curiosity, I filled a glass with water from the bathroom and swallowed the pill, hoping it would live up to its promises.
Finally ready to call it a day, I turned off the lights and slid under the covers. The bed was firm yet comfortable, and as I settled in, I could feel my eyelids growing heavy. Despite the training and the daunting prospect of what tomorrow would bring, a sense of calm washed over me.
With that last thought, I drifted off into a deep, restorative sleep, as I oh so rightfully deserved.
image [https://i.imgur.com/QdHVgVk.png]
The calm of deep sleep was shattered by the abrupt blaring of my alarm, which was actually Chronos standing at the doorway, slamming a pan and ladle together loudly. The sudden noise jolted me awake, my heart racing as I blinked against the dim light filtering through the curtains.
"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!" Chronos called out, his voice booming in the quiet of the early morning.
I groaned, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My body felt surprisingly less sore than I had anticipated, maybe a testament to the effects of the Steel Forged Pill, but my mind was still foggy with sleep. I picked up my phone off the nightstand, it was barely past four in the morning.
Who in their right might would be up at this ungodly hour?
"Why so early?" I mumbled, sitting up and struggling to find the energy to move.
"Because improvement doesn’t sleep-in, neither do we," Chronos replied with a smirk. He tossed a fresh set of athleisure wear onto the bed. "Today, we're setting a strict schedule, and I expect you to stick to it. We start with a run, followed by strength training, then skills practice, and we’ll wrap with recovery exercises and review. Every minute counts."
I sighed, the prospect of another grueling day looming over me as I dragged myself out of bed. The fabric of the new clothes felt cool against my skin as I changed, a small comfort as I braced myself for what was coming.
As I laced up my sneakers, Chronos leaned against the doorframe, watching me with an expression that suggested he was calculating just how far he could push me today. "We're focusing on endurance this morning. You're going to run the perimeter of the property. This way you’ll easily get a couple of miles. Oh and side note, do the socks and underwear fit? I took an educated guess."
With a yawn I gave him a thumbs up, “Yeah they fit well.”
The fact he so casually said running around the perimeter of his property would net a couple of miles really made me wonder if Chronos was at all self-aware. I took a deep breath to both steady myself and get some good ol' oxygen to my brain. The chill of the morning air hit me as we stepped outside, the sky still a deep navy blue, stars faintly twinkling. As we walked, I noticed just how energized I was beginning to feel, a stark contrast to the fatigue that had pulled me deep into sleep only hours before.
Noticing my brisk pace, Chronos glanced over with a knowing smirk. "Feeling a bit more lively, are we?"
I nodded, slightly surprised by my own vigor. "Yeah, I actually do. That pill... it’s working faster than I expected. What exactly is in it?"
Chronos kept his eyes on the path ahead but responded with a tone of approval. "The Steel Forged Pill isn’t just for muscle growth. It acts a bit like a pre-workout. Once your body gets some rest, it accelerates rejuvenation, pushing your metabolism and energy production. Think of it like a kick of caffeine or the boost people feel from a gym supplement. It’s designed to wake you up and keep you moving, makes the training more bearable and far more effective."
I processed this, my steps unconsciously quickening in sync with the rush of newfound energy coursing through me. "So, it’s not just helping me recover, it’s actually pushing me to do more?"
"Exactly," Chronos confirmed. "It primes your body to handle more strain, trains you to sustain energy longer. You're not just training your muscles and skills out here; you're training your endurance, your very capacity to handle stress. Physical and otherwise."
As we approached the start of the running trail, the reality of what lay ahead felt daunting yet strangely exhilarating. The pill, the training, the cold clarity of the dawn—it all converged into a moment of potent readiness. I was more than just awake; I felt alive, capable, ready to tackle whatever twisted regimen Chronos had planned.
"Alright," Chronos clapped me on the back as we stopped at the trailhead. "Let’s put that energy to good use. Remember, it’s not just about keeping up—it’s about pushing forward."
With the lingering stars as witnesses, I took the lead, setting a brisk pace as the first light of dawn began to edge the horizon. Each step reinforced the idea: I was here to grow stronger, faster, tougher. The Steel Forged Pill was just one part of the equation, but as my feet pounded the trail, I felt like I was racing towards something greater, something formidable. This wasn’t just training; it was transformation. Despite the challenge, a part of me thrilled at the push, the drive to exceed my limits. Maybe, just maybe, I was starting to enjoy this.