The alarm on my phone cut through the silence of my room, but I was already wide awake, staring at the ceiling. It had been like this all weekend, my internal clock jolting me awake at 4 AM, no matter how hard I tried to will myself back to sleep. I sighed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, a bit annoyed that even on days off, my body refused to cooperate.

Chronos, I will never forgive you, making me conditioned to NOT sleep in.

Despite the early hour, I slipped out of bed with an energy that surprised me. The meditation sessions, though frustratingly stagnant at just barely filling the bottom of that metaphorical cup, had at least left me feeling more centered, more in tune with my thoughts. But it was clear I had hit a bottleneck in my progress, unable to push past that initial success.

Now, this might sound a bit ironic, and maybe like I've lost my mind, but I decided to go for a jog. Listen, it's 4 AM, no one else is awake, nothing's happening. It’s just me up and about at this ungodly hour. What else am I supposed to do? Play some video games? I tried that, really, but after thirty minutes, I just couldn’t sit still anymore. My body has gotten so used to waking up early and moving right away that doing anything else feels off. I actually scared the daylights out of Mom when she caught me heading out for a run after I finished my run.

Thanks to the Steel Forged Pill, my stamina seemed to have improved dramatically. I was able to keep a steady pace while running and was able to run around the majority of my neighborhood. Another thing I noticed was how I wasn’t getting sore in my calves as easily. After that first run at Chronos’ estate my calves were so messed up that my legs were trembling as I walked. If I try to lift myself on my toes my calves just give out. I just stood there thinking I was done for.

Yesterday, Dad had joined me for a workout session. Despite the intensity, he'd kept pace easily, almost casually. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy at how effortlessly he managed, remembering just in time that he was an Ascendant, his body was built to handle much more than mine currently could. "Not bad, but you could make these tougher," he had commented with a smirk, sparking both admiration and a flicker of rivalry in me.

To cope I just told myself that I would surpass him and make him grovel at how intense the workouts will be once I awaken. Then I immediately retracted the thought due to that realization that Chronos will most certainly amp up the intensity after I awaken.

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

I remembered one training session where Chronos was supposedly 'spotting' me during bench presses. He was more absorbed in his manga than in my struggle with the weights. And then there was the time when he mocked me during a run, zipping past with a Naruto run, calling out, "On your left," as he lapped me not once, but three times.

When Monday rolled around, Chronos was right, I had no trouble getting up early. At 3 AM I was already on my front porch sitting down waiting for Chronos to drive up. However I never saw him. I expected to hear the familiar rumble of his truck any minute now. Instead, to my surprise and growing dismay, I saw a figure jogging up the street towards my house. It was Chronos, and he wasn't slowing down.

As he approached, a smirk played across his face, the kind that told me I probably wasn’t going to like what he was about to say. "Morning, Rai! Hope you're warmed up because today, we’re jogging to my place."

My heart sank. The last thing I wanted was another excuse for more running, especially a jog to Chronos's house, which was not exactly around the corner. But there was no arguing with that smirk.

I can’t escape it… ha… haha… hahahaha… ha…

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

Despite the frustration, these memories brought a reluctant grin to my face. It was infuriating and somehow motivating at the same time. I’m just glad I wore the athleisure wear he gave me. Why do I have it? Well I took some of them with me home. I mean, they are mine so why not take some home to wear.

We chatted a bit about the weekend, and I shared some of the lighter moments I had with my family. He listened, nodding and throwing in a few of his typical sarcastic remarks. It felt like any regular workout, except this time, there was a comfortable silence that filled the gaps, a mutual understanding that had started to grow between us. With the sound of the morning birds and our shoes on the asphalt we made our way to his home.

We slowed down as we approached his driveway, both catching our breath. Which he was obviously faking because there wasn’t even a hint of fatigue in his posture.

Then my training arc truly began. Chronos had me up and running before the city even woke up, hitting the pavement with a vengeance that my sleep-addled brain barely kept up with. "Building endurance, Rai," he'd say, almost cheerfully, as if running at dawn was a normal thing people did for fun. If there is someone who does this for fun, I will find you, and I will plant thumb tacks in your shoes.

Breakfast was out of the question until I lost the weight, he called it “Intermittent Fasting.” Once I lost the stomach, it would be time to bulk, until then, it’s cutting. After running, it was straight to lifting weights that I swear were made of lead. Some days I felt like it was easier, others they weren’t. Chronos the bastard was definitely tampering with these. Chronos watched, a permanent smirk on his face, making notes that probably said something like, "Make it heavier next week" or “remove the 10 LBS label and replace it with a 45 LBS label.”

By the second week, I thought I'd get a break. Nope. It was a larger focus on strength training, where every day introduced a new circle of gym hell. Chronos pushed me through sets of exercises that had me lifting, pulling, and pushing until I thought my arms would detach. "Strength through struggle," he’d remind me, which sounded less inspiring when you were drenched in sweat and hoping the floor might swallow you whole. Oh and the famous Leg Day, ah, the legendary Leg Day was now officially on my fuck you list.

THIS ASSHOLE HAD ME GO UNTIL FAILURE!

The third week, I was praying for a miracle, or at least a minor injury that might earn me a day off. But what I got was flexibility training, yoga and stretches that made me realize just how stiff I was. "Flexibility saves you from breaking," Chronos lectured while demonstrating stretches that no human should be able to do without dislocating something. I put up with it so my crotch never has to feel that soreness again.

Don’t worry buddy, you’ll be throwing kicks like it’s nothing. Don’t worry about pulling anything.

By week four, I was a mix of sore and spry, running through obstacle courses that Chronos set up. They were a twisted mix of endurance, strength, and flexibility challenges that had me hopping, crawling, and occasionally eating dirt. "Integrating your skills," he'd call out, as if watching me flail was another box ticked off in his training manual.

I ended June stronger, no doubt, but with a deep-seated fear of what July would bring. Each session was etched into my memory, not just by the physical imprint of effort, but by Chronos's relentless drive to push me further. I remembered one particularly savage session, supposed to be a spotting session, which really meant Chronos reading a new manga volume while I pushed weights heavy enough to crush my spirit. "You're doing great," he'd muttered without looking up, right before I almost dropped a barbell on myself. I want to say I will die one day from this, but there was an instance where I actually dropped it on myself, but he had caught it with ease right before it hit my neck. With his finger mind you.

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And let's not forget the cardio sessions, where Chronos, ever the show-off, would zip past me doing a Naruto run, shouting "On your left" each time he lapped me. It was ridiculous, infuriating, and weirdly motivating. I swear, if I didn't know any better, I'd think he was training me just to have a running joke, literally. There was one instance where he was running backwards and almost fell but did a backflip to save it. Okay that was kind of cool, but it still pissed me off.

So, when Monday came, and Chronos jogged up to my house instead of driving, all I could do was laugh. Not because it was funny, but because it was either laugh or cry. "Morning, Rai! Hope you're warmed up because today, we’re jogging to my place." Of course, we were. Why not? It was just another Monday with Chronos, after all. And as we set off, I couldn't help thinking about surpassing him one day, making him eat his words, and maybe even a little dirt of his own.

As June's foundational grind tapered off, July loomed with a promise of escalated intensity, but strictly within the realms of physical conditioning. Chronos decided that before any specialized training like martial arts could begin, my physical base needed to be unshakable. "Master your body before you try to master any skills," he declared as we launched into a month that felt more like a boot camp from a fitness fanatic's most intense dreams. But, I can’t lie, there's a bit of a thrill after each day is done.

July started with a brutal increase in strength training. Each day, Chronos had me moving from one weight station to another, each setup more daunting than the last. Squats, deadlifts, bench presses, each exercise stacked more plates than I thought I could handle. "Building strength isn't just about lifting," Chronos would say as he added another weight, "it's about lifting beyond what you think your limit is."

I want to complain, I really do, but the results speak for themselves. When I first started I could barely do 3 sets of 5 with the barbell itself, it weighs about 45 pounds. Now, I am doing 5 sets of 10 with 95 pounds on the bar. I was squatting 70 and now I’m doing 105. My arms have noticeable muscle definition and my legs are showing more muscle as well. Not to mention my chest and stomach. The belly I had has reduced in size by a considerable amount and my chest has increased a bit to where I can actually flex my pecs. I might have to go bra shopping soon.

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

With my muscles screaming from the previous week's labors, Chronos shifted focus slightly, emphasis on 'slightly.' Now it was about endurance. Long-distance running became my daily dawn greeting. We ran routes that snaked through the city and its outskirts, each more challenging than the last. Hills became my nemesis; Chronos urged me up each slope with relentless enthusiasm, promising that the pain would pay dividends.

After the runs, it was back to the gym for more endurance work, but this time with a twist: resistance training designed to maximize stamina. It wasn't just about how fast or how strong but how long I could maintain intensity before fatigue set in. To help with recovery and enhance the next day’s performance, I began taking the Steel Forged Pill nightly, its effects subtly reinforcing my stamina and muscle repair.

Mid-July, Chronos introduced agility and speed drills that had me feeling like I was training for the Olympic trials. Ladder drills, cone sprints, and plyometric exercises were all designed to improve my reaction times and explosive power. "Speed is as crucial as strength," Chronos explained. "It’s about how quickly you can move, and how suddenly you can stop."

These exercises, often done in the sweltering midday heat, tested not just my physical capabilities but my mental resilience. The faster I moved, the more I sweated, and the harder it was to keep going, but keep going I did. Each evening, my meditation sessions, guided by the teachings Chronos had given me, focused on visualizing a cup slowly filling with my aura. Though progress was slow, the nightly practice deepened my connection to my inner strength and helped soothe the day’s physical toll.

As the month wound down, Chronos didn’t let up but shifted gears toward recovery and conditioning. This week introduced more structured recovery protocols: yoga for flexibility, meditation for mental resilience, and even swimming for low-impact recovery. "Training hard is only half the battle," he noted. "Recovering harder is what makes all that training stick."

We spent hours discussing and practicing the correct ways to cool down, stretch, and use foam rollers and massage tools to enhance muscle recovery. Nutrition also took center stage, with Chronos drilling into me the importance of protein, hydration, and electrolytes. I know most of this but it really did ingrave itself after each day. Not to mention the fact that I did notice its effects. Also I can confirm that water is my favorite beverage. Ice cold water is where drinks have peaked.

By the end of July, my body had transformed. The relentless physical training under the summer sun had forged a version of myself that was leaner, tougher, and more enduring. Each bead of sweat, each aching muscle was a testament to the work put in. As the month closed, I felt prepared, not just for more physical challenges but for anything. August was on the horizon, and I was ready to push even further, secure in the knowledge that my physical foundation was as solid as rock.

As the heat of July rolled over into August, the intensity of the training didn't wane, in fact, it ramped up. Chronos seemed determined to squeeze every ounce of potential out of me before summer's end. "Now that you've built your strength and stamina, it's time to push your limits and see what you're really capable of," he announced, a twinkle in his eye that was both exciting and terrifying.

How does this mad man find a way to make it worse?

The first week of August was all about testing my new capabilities. Chronos had me perform high-intensity drills that combined everything I had learned over the summer. I was running longer, lifting heavier, and moving faster than I ever thought possible. Each day ended with a new personal best, which Chronos meticulously recorded on his clipboard.

I guess he did find a use for that clipboard.

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

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

Chronos introduced even more complex agility courses this week, designed to challenge both my physical dexterity and my mental agility. These courses were a maze of sprints, hurdles, and strategic stops that mimicked real-world challenges. "Agility isn’t just about moving your body; it’s about thinking ahead," Chronos explained as he timed my runs, shouting adjustments and encouragement.

One of the new drills involved Chronos throwing tennis balls at me from different angles while I maneuvered through an agility ladder. The unexpected pelting was his unorthodox method of enhancing my reflexes and ability to anticipate sudden changes. "Keep your eyes open, Rai. Life’s going to throw a lot more at you than just tennis balls," he’d jest, though each successful catch or dodge boosted my confidence and reaction time.

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

By the third week, Chronos had me integrate all aspects of my training into seamless, fluid motions. "Now we combine your strength, endurance, and agility into something cohesive," he stated. This meant complex routines that required me to switch gears between power lifts and sprint intervals or balance maneuvers followed by precision strikes into training pads.

Each session was exhausting yet exhilarating. I began to feel not just like a trainee, but like a true athlete, someone capable of understanding and controlling his body in ways I had never imagined before. The meditation that capped off these days helped cement the day’s lessons, my aura in the visualization growing stronger and more vibrant.

The final week of August was Chronos’s version of a grand finale. He set up a day-long decathlon that tested every physical and mental skill I had honed over the summer. From dawn till dusk, I was running, jumping, lifting, and strategizing. Each event was more challenging than the last, designed to push me to my absolute limits.

Chronos watched closely, his usual smirk replaced by a look of intense focus. "This is more than training, Rai. This is about discovering who you are when you think you have nothing left," he said. And he was right. As the sun set on the last day of the decathlon, I was spent but not broken. I had pushed through barriers I didn’t know I could, and I stood taller because of it.

As August ended and the reality of returning to a normal routine loomed, I felt a mix of relief and nostalgia. The grueling days of summer training had transformed me. I was stronger, faster, and more resilient, not just physically but mentally and emotionally. The cup in my meditations was now noticeably fuller, a testament to the growth I had achieved.

"Remember this feeling, Rai. You’ve earned every drop of strength you’ve gained," Chronos said as we reviewed the summer’s progress. With a nod, I realized that while the summer training was ending, my journey was just beginning. I was ready for whatever came next, thanks to a summer I would never forget. One thing was certain though, on the last day of august, Chronos left a pair of sparring gloves in my room.

Finally.