Raiden Alaric
I just sat there, dumbfounded. Did he seriously just ask me to be his disciple? I mean don't get me wrong, someone who is Red or above in rank giving me this kind of offer is nothing to sneeze at. The things I can learn from him would most certainly be worthwhile. However, I don't really know him or anything about him. As much as I'd like to jump right at the opportunity. Where is the benefit for him? Not to mention I am not exactly a prize or from a powerful family that screams money and potential connections.
So I asked him. "Why?"
He raised his index finger next to him, “First, it's because of what I saw within your realm. You most certainly have potential, and I didn't see a direct path. With that in mind it means that you have the potential to go in any direction you wish.”
He raised his middle finger next, “Second, your potential combat prowess. In this world being capable of handling yourself is crucial. Not to mention I have an interest in seeing how far you're able to go.
He then raised his ring finger which has a silver wedding band around it engraved with a language I don't recognize, “Third, I believe in you being able to play a large part of what the future may hold.”
Putting his hand down he then shrugged, “If you're questioning how I could possibly benefit from this? Well in the world of Ascendants if a talent appears and becomes a known figure it's only natural they'd wish to know who instructed said individual. Is this for profit? No, I don't need money, I already have enough of it. For fame? No, I'd much rather be the super cool and secret master who has trained you behind the scenes that only a select few will ever know or discover. Also I'm confident you'd end up being famous for being my student in general.”
I didn't like that last part. Don't get me wrong there's a side of me that would like to be somewhat known, but from my own achievements. If anything now I'm just getting more curious about Chronos here. I should be able to recognize him if he's apparently famous or well-known. But the name and face just don't match with anyone I can think of.
“ I know you're still trying to figure out who I am. But don't worry, if you do some digging you can find out. Become my disciple I may or may not reveal it to you.” He winked.
“So then how do you benefit? I still don't understand what's in it for you.”
Chronos crossed his arms, “I'm kind of hurt. You think that I need a form of compensation in order to train a kid who was being beaten to fight back and win against odds that should have been against him in every way? Do I need a reason?”
“Nothing is free.”
He gave a warm smile, “I understand your skepticism. The world is full of self-serving people, but trust me, my only reward is seeing you thrive. What I see is something that others would pursue for the potential dividends you could produce. I don’t need a material gain in general. It's like watching a reflection of someone I once knew, who had your potential. If anything, the only gain I seek is the satisfaction of seeing you surpass everyone. While I get to delight in the fact of being able to tell myself and those close to me, “Yeah, I trained that boy.” you know?”
I was still skeptical, ‘If it’s too good to be true, it isn’t’ they always say. He clearly could tell I wasn’t believing him so he spoke again. “Okay how about this, consider it an act of repayment.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well did you wrap yourself up in the magical healing bandages instead of calling an ambulance? Did you avoid a hospital bill with your parents acquiring a debt of $20k+ while also having to be questioned by police of your behavioral patterns? Did you avoid having to deal with the families of those other guys, whom you beat up in self-defense, and their lawyers? Thus having to get into more debt due to your family having to pay for legal fees and those kids medical fees.”
Okay, I didn’t think about it this deeply when it came to possible repercussions of my actions. I genuinely did not think about those other small details that might occur after everything had happened. Matter of fact, there’s still a chance that-
“So as a way of payment, you are not only getting your injuries treated, you are also getting some first class ‘physical therapy’ and witness protection all in one go. The best part is you get to spend hours and hours on end with the most charming person here in the somewhat okay city of Dawn. Quite a deal no?”
Quite the salesman huh?
Well, I guess this isn't so bad. But, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to read the terms of service for this. I like this guy. Granted I don’t have many expectations, but it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t still take this with a grain of salt. What’s the worst that could happen? Well, if I think about it there could be something bad that happens but just from how he acts and his previous reactions I doubt I’m going to become a victim here. I think.
“Alright,” I said. “I’ll become your disciple. You become my master.”
“And the deal has been struck!” He pointed to me, “From this point on you shall call me ‘Sensei’ and our training shall begin after your injuries have healed up!” He walked over to pick up the glass of water near me. “Let me grab you another glass and we can start unwrapping you.” He then started walking towards one of the doors in the room.
Sure enough, I felt my chest, the pain was significantly lessened. Rubbing my index finger over my eyebrow I feel nothing either. But there is something that has been racking my brain. Ever since he began this offer. Something vital that I needed to know.
I grabbed his attention before he left, “One more thing, this is something I’ve been wondering about for a while now.”
He turned to me, “Ask away my young disciple.”
I point to the blue cloak-like clothing over his shoulders, “Is that Law’s overcoat?”
A spark of surprise ignited in Chronos's eyes. The glass of water he held slipped from his grasp, clattering to the floor in a startled gasp. “Ah, you are the chosen one.” He whispered as a tear ran down his cheek.image [https://i.imgur.com/fMKksfv.png]
After unwrapping me Chronos helped me up and had me do some stretches to see how my body healed up. I was still sore around where my ribs broke, but my arm was perfectly fine and any other bruises or cuts I received were completely gone. I was amazed at just how much of my body had healed within a short time. This Medela wrap is truly something amazing. I could only imagine what higher-ranked ones could do. Come to think of it, I think my mom might have something similar to the wrap but it’s a supplement. I recall I had almost broken my ankle one time trying to do a flip on a trampoline and she had given me one. I was perfectly fine within the hour. Funny enough I wouldn’t have been able to take one if she didn’t scold my dad for telling me to ‘walk it off.’ Sometimes the power dynamic of my home is confusing. Mom would definitely… definitely.
Oh God… no, no, no…
I quickly turn to Chronos, “Chronos!”
“Wh-what? What’s wrong?” He answered worriedly.
“What time is it?”
He raised an eyebrow, “Huh?”
I walked over, grabbed him by the collar, and pulled him down to my level, “What. Time. Is. It?”
Looking at me confused, he lifted his wrist to check his watch, “It’s 6:34.”
Letting him go I fell to my knees, “I’m finished.”
“Hey, are you alright? You’re turning pale.”
“You don’t understand.” I looked him in the eyes causing him to flinch. “I was supposed to be home by 5 o’clock.”
His shoulders relaxed, clearly he tensed up because he thought something serious had happened. “What, that’s it? Man you had me worried, I thought something serious was wrong.”
“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!” I pulled him down again with both of our eyes leveled.
“Hey hey you’re going to run the collar on this sh-”
“My mom said 5 o’clock. What do you think that means?”
He began to sweat looking at my desperate expression, “Uh, be home at 5?”
“Exactly! So what do you think will happen? Not only me coming home late, but the fact I was attacked by three people. Sure I may be healed but that woman is a monster when it comes to finding irregularities. If she even so much as sees me with a hair out of place she will drop everything to make sure that the hair wasn’t moved by someone with malicious intent. SO TELL ME WHAT DO YOU THINK WILL HAPPEN?” I voiced with my heart.
“You’ll… get in trouble?”
“EXACTLY! If I get in trouble, what do you think will be the effect after she finds the cause?”
“She’ll-”
“EXACTLY! She will want to get to the bottom of everything as well as meeting you, learning who you are, your history, family lineage, next of kin, habits, hobbies, feti-”
“Okay you are taking this out of proportion.” He cut me off. “My mother was similar but I highly doubt this would have any negative repercussions if I just take you home and explain everything.”
I paused, “Do you mean it? You’ll talk to her?”
“Y-yeah. I don’t think there should be much to worry about. It just seems like she’s a doting mother.” He slowly starts raising himself again.
“Well… since you’re offering… I’ll take you up on it.” I let his collar go and walk away. Then I stop walking and turn to him. “Um, how do we get out?”
image [https://i.imgur.com/fMKksfv.png]
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After putting my shirt back on and putting on my nice and dry jeans. Thank you, Chronos, for cleaning my clothes. After standing I realized that the room I was in was very nice. The room itself was a study of modern minimalism. Clean lines, neutral tones, and large windows created a bright and airy feel. Yikes, and I was sweating and bleeding on that bed? Well if he’s not going to charge me then I don’t see a reason to worry about it.
He walked to one of the doors and I followed him. My eyes widened once we walked into the hallway. The sheer size of the place is still sinking in. This wasn't just a house, it was practically a sprawling modern mansion. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating hallways lined with abstract paintings and sculptures. Yet, nestled amongst the contemporary art were carefully placed pieces with deeper meaning: a framed passage from the Psalms, and a simple wooden cross. It felt like a carefully curated conversation, juxtaposing the new with the old, the secular with the sacred.
I think he’s the religious type. From his necklace, I had an assumption, but then again I see people wear it but not practice it. We continued down the hallway taking one left turn and then a right. Just one after the other I was convinced he was walking in circles. Finally, after what seemed like miles of wandering, Chrono stopped, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. He flung open a set of double doors with a flourish, dramatically announcing, "Behold, my personal sanctuary!"
The temperature dips slightly upon walking in. A welcome contrast to the summer heat. But instead of stepping into a traditional foyer, I find myself in a cavernous wonderland unlike any I've ever seen. Chronos continues to guide me through as I look around in sheer awe.
Four expansive bays sprawl before me, each one large enough to comfortably house a semi-truck. But these aren't your average parking spaces. To my left, a gleaming silver Rimac Nevera sits regally on a rotating platform, its futuristic silhouette a testament to cutting-edge design. Beside it, a Bugatti Chiron, its sleek curves and iconic horseshoe grille, exudes an aura of pure power.
Across the vast space, a customized work area gleams with chrome and stainless steel. Tool chests flank a central workbench, meticulously organized. Above it, a large crucifix hangs, a silent guardian over Chronos's meticulous attention to detail. Overhead cabinets, adorned with subtle crosses etched into the wood, hold neatly labeled bottles of lubricants and polishes, hinting at his dedication to keeping his collection in pristine condition.
But this is just the beginning. As my gaze wanders further, I spot a collection that would make any car enthusiast weak at the knees. A gleaming Rolls Royce sits proudly next to a Maybach, both exuding an air of timeless elegance. A vibrant orange McLaren 765LT pulsates with raw energy, while a sleek Maserati MC20 nearby embodies Italian design flair. And then there are the classics. A cherry red 1960 Mustang, its lines instantly recognizable, sits next to an iconic 1960 Camaro, both evoking a sense of American muscle car heritage. But these are just a few; Nestled amongst the modern marvels, a vintage Ford Model A gleams, a testament to automotive history, a subtle reminder of simpler times. Looking over into one of the corners my eyes turn into saucers. Do my eyes deceive me?
Tucked away in a corner of this automotive cathedral, seemingly unfazed by the company it keeps, sits a forklift that's anything but ordinary. It's no longer the industrial workhorse it once was; it's a testament to the Chronos’s ability to transform the mundane into the extraordinary.
Gone is the utilitarian yellow paint job, replaced by a custom chrome finish that gleams like a beacon in the soft light. Intricate airbrushed flames lick up the sides, their fiery tongues reaching toward the undercarriage, which has been outfitted with LED lights that shift through a spectrum of colors. The standard mast, typically a utilitarian tower of steel, has been adorned with chrome accents and polished to a mirror shine. Atop it, instead of the usual forks, rests a custom-made platform upholstered in plush black leather, the kind you'd find in a luxury car. In the center, a small refrigerator gleams, its chrome finish matching the rest of the pimped-out machine.
This isn't just a forklift; it's a symbol of manhood, a mischievous wink amidst the reverence for classic cars and religious iconography. It's a reminder that even the most unexpected things can be transformed into works of art, testaments of passion these are.
Beyond the cars, a lounge area exudes an air of luxury. Plush leather sofas face a large-screen TV, perfect for indulging in the world of high-performance cars or reliving legendary races. A mini-fridge hums softly, its contents a mystery, while a built-in espresso machine beckons with the promise of a quick, sophisticated pick-me-up. But it's the details that truly capture the essence of this space. A well-worn bible rests on a side table beside a framed picture of Chronos and a woman who seems to be his wife.
This isn't just a garage. It's a space that speaks volumes about its owner, their passion, their meticulousness, and their undeniable love for not just the art and history of these machines, but for something far greater. A feeling of awe washes over me, mixed with pure anxiety. Every single thing in this garage is worth more than me tenfold. I get the feeling that if I breathe too hard I’ll damage a car and start accruing debt. From the house alone I was amazed at its size. But this just took it to a whole new level. Just how much wealth does Chronos have? I knew he was at least Red rank but, I’m starting to think it might be higher than that.
Reaching over Chronos closed my jaw. “If you open your mouth any wider it will lock in place,” he said chuckling. He continued to walk forward and I followed behind him. While also being careful to not touch anything. He looks over his shoulder, “Impressed?”
“‘Impressed’ would be an understatement. Everything in here is worth more than my home and everything in it,” I said. “I guess it’s right to assume that you are a car enthusiast?”
“I don’t suppose that's far off the mark. However, it was my wife that loves cars. She simply got me into them. While I’d be in one of the training halls, she’d be here working on one of those two.” We walked past two vintage cars. I was able to pick up some cars but I could only assume they were Shelby. “1965 Shelby GT350, also known as the Cobra. We bought both of these for each other as an anniversary gift. We laughed at each other because we had the same idea. Then they ended up becoming our little projects we would maintain throughout the rest of our years.”
“Which one was her’s,” I asked.
He smiled warmly and pointed to the one on the right, “This one.”
Looking to the car on the right I take a good look. The car's exterior is painted in its original Wimbledon White, the paint gleaming despite not being subjected to the harsh glare of the overhead lights. Chrome accents gleam just as brightly, and the iconic blue racing stripes running down the length of the car appear as if hand-painted, their color so vivid it seems to defy its age. A closer look reveals the car's immaculate condition. Not a single speck of dust mars the paint and the chrome gleams as if new. The tires, though not new, have been meticulously maintained and show little sign of wear. Chronos has spared no expense to preserve this car.
“This car is 57 years old. How did you keep it so clean, it doesn’t even look used.”
He turned and began walking again, “That my young disciple is a family secret. All I’ll say is that it’s a combination of sigils and hands-on maintenance”
“Sigils? You use sigils to keep a car clean?”
“Why wouldn’t I? Sigils are so vast you can create your own. They are no words of power of course but they still can increase quality of life. Don’t you know the stove in your home has a sigil? Sigils of Power may be known for its effectiveness in combat, but its primary use is for mundane tasks. This includes keeping my cars clean.”
“I see your point.” He’s not wrong. I recall the knowledge from what I learned in school. Sigils of Power are the visual representation of primordial concepts. They are symbols that are drawn from the primordial language of aura. They represent concepts and intentions, acting as intricate keys that channel aura to achieve specific effects. I can write a sigil, but I can’t activate it without being able to channel aura through it. Trust me, I’ve tried. Otherwise, my homework would do itself. This leads to the second thing about sigils, they can be customizable, to a certain extent. I don’t really have much knowledge on its limits but I only understand that it is possible.
Chronos then stopped at the center of his garage and turned to me crossing his arms, “Alright, go ahead.”
I looked at him quizzically, “Huh?”
He swept his arm out over the vast array of high-end vehicles, “Go ahead, pick one.”
“What do you mean pick one?” I asked hesitantly.
“Pick one you want me to drive you home in.”
My jaw dropped once again.
Is this guy serious?
“Ah obviously it’s a no go on the Shelby’s but anything else is fine. This floor in particular was where she spent most of her time anyway so she’s proud of these ones.”
I turned to him slowly, “This... floor?”
He tilted his head, “Yeah?” He then slammed his palm with the bottom of his fist. “Oh right, you don’t know. Yeah this is one of 5 floors. Each floor has roughly the same amount of cars. Except the last floor, that is secret.”
I was still flabbergasted. “Just how high ranked are you?”
He wagged his finger side to side, “Not just yet, I know I said I’d tell you, but not so soon. I think you’d be able to figure it out yourself after you awaken anyways. So be patient, I'll tell you in due time. Now pick a car.”
Looking back towards the garage I look over the vehicles. There’s no way I could pick one. Not because I don’t want to, but because if one of these things pulls up in front of my house I don’t need the entire neighborhood having its eyes on me when I get home. The only thing that is the least eye-catching is the Mustang and Camaro.
I turned to him, “Is there, possibly anything a little, I don’t know, less expensive? Like a pick up truck or even a modest SUV? You know something that either won’t have everyone look at once or some”
He thought for a moment, “Hmm, I have an F-150, but I don’t really-.”
“Perfect, let's take that.”
He shook his head chuckling, “Alright then.” I followed him towards what resembled a sleek, metallic elevator. A digital display glowed beside it, indicating the second floor. He pressed the button marked “3,” and the elevator descended with a soft hum. The doors slid open, revealing another automotive wonderland.
My jaw hit the ground again. Parked in gleaming rows were automotive legends, each one a testament to a bygone era. A 1955 Mercedes-Benz 300 SL Gullwing Coupe, its iconic doors outstretched like a silver bird taking flight, held center stage. Beside it, a sleek 1963 Jaguar E-Type Series 1 Coupe whispered tales of elegance with its flowing curves and chrome accents. A cherry red 1971 Ferrari Daytona, a name that sent shivers down the spine of any racing enthusiast, stood defiantly nearby. Three McLarens, each a vibrant splash of color and cutting-edge design, completed the picture. Oh how car enthusiasts would kill to be in my position right now. So many could only dream of being able to have a collection this vast.
It also seems that each garage has a few standouts that completely avoid the theme. Off in the corner were two cars that no one would consider the owner had an entire arsenal of high end vehicles that are worth more than both of these combined. A Ford F-150, and a Honda Pilot. Now we’re in breathing territory. I walk over to the passenger side of the Ford and wait for Chronos. He walks over to the wall near the two cars. On the wall there is a small box with a fingerprint scanner on the right. He places his index finger on the scanner, a small beep goes off. Then the box slides open. Inside hang two key fobs, one for a Honda, another for a Ford. Reaching out he takes the key for the Ford and unlocks the truck. Hopping inside I notice that the “new car smell” still lingers within the interior. Chronos hops in the driver seat and presses the start button and the truck hums to life.
He points to the infotainment system, “Alright put in your address, let’s get you home.”
I reach over and input my address into the map. Once the route started we started making our way forward towards the front of the garage. Gleaming chrome accents on the vehicle mirrored the polished concrete floor below, reflecting the harsh overhead lights of the cavernous space. Considering we are on the third floor we stop in front of a large sliding gate. After pressing a button on the rearview mirror the gate slides open. Instead of a conventional exit ramp, what was revealed is a massive steel platform, held aloft by a web of industrial-chic beams.
"Don’t piss your pants again okay. These seats may be leather but don’t think that’s a pass for you to do so." Chronos said with a smirk, holding a hint of amusement.
“I didn’t piss myself, it was raining and I fell in a-.” Cutting me off he lurched the vehicle forward making me gasp. The truck soon rested in the center of the platform ready for elevation to ground level.
Chronos pressed a button nestled discreetly on the dashboard. The platform lurched, then began to rise steadily, the truck tilting precariously forward. The roar of the engine filled the confined space, the only sound other than the unnerving creak of the machinery supporting our multi-ton metal beast. As the platform neared the level of the street, sunlight streamed through the opening above, momentarily blinding me.
The truck rolled forward onto solid ground, thus leaving the incredible collection. Interestingly enough as I looked into the passenger mirror this is when I saw the home. My stomach lurched as I turned my head towards the house, and there it was. I knew this had to be a mansion, but not a mega mansion. A geometric masterpiece nestled amongst the rolling green canvas. Walls of steel and glass glinted in the sun, reflecting the vibrant hues of the surrounding meadows.
The house, devoid of unnecessary ornamentation, relied on clean lines and expansive windows to exude an air of quiet confidence. Beyond it, the eight acres of what seemed to be a twenty-acre property unfolded like a modern art installation. Rolling hills, dotted with the occasional mature oak, provided a natural counterpoint to the sharp angles of the home.
As I turned my head, a path of polished concrete, adorned with sculpted hedges, snaked around the side of the house, leading towards an infinity pool that seemed to merge seamlessly with the horizon. A glimpse of a dirt filled training ground, bathed in the afternoon sun rested to the right of the home. Soon we arrived at a gate that opened upon our approach. Once we passed through the automatic gate swung shut with a soft whir, the sound echoing in the quiet. I stole one last look at the house, the setting sun casting long shadows across the polished steel.
Just who did I get myself involved with?