Chapter 25: Construction
Hunger.
That was the driving force in Cal’s soul space, a raw, unrelenting hunger that consumed every thought and breath. It wasn't just a desire for survival—it was a lust for power, control, and the chance to rise above everything. Power had eluded the old Cal, but now, in this world, it was within his grasp. The thrill of that realization sent a shiver through him.
But it wasn’t only hunger. There was also hope—a strange, electrifying hope. The promise of power was intoxicating, pulling him forward like a beacon in the dark. The anticipation of what could be, the exhilaration of the climb, the desire to conquer the mountain not because he had to—but because he wanted to.
This world was different. Full of opportunities, challenges, and possibilities. The old Cal had been stuck, powerless and frustrated. But this new world, with its essence, magic, and dangers—was everything he had secretly craved. He wanted power because he’d never truly had it before. And now, he was going to seize it. No matter the cost. No matter the consequences.
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Beron stood at the edge of the dojo, observing Cal as he sat in deep meditation. Hours had passed, and Cal hadn’t moved an inch, fully immersed in the depths of his soul. The stillness was unnerving, but Beron recognized the intensity of Cal’s focus—it reminded him of his own awakening, though their paths couldn’t have been more different.
When Beron was young, his awakening had come in the most brutal way imaginable. Tied to a wall, his body was slashed repeatedly by blades. The constant threat of death had pushed him to develop his path rapidly, to find a way to deflect the blades before they cut him again. It was a brutal method, one his family had used for generations, passed down through a bloodline of swordsmen. There was no room for error, no time for weakness. He had to live up to the family name, or he would die trying.
But Cal’s path was different. There were no blades, no blood—just silence, contemplation, and a soul that troubled Beron in ways he hadn’t expected. Though this space was entirely under Beron’s control, one thing he couldn’t influence was Cal’s soul. It was the only thing here with real substance, and its presence was overwhelming.
Beron could feel it—an unsettling energy radiating from Cal’s soul. Most souls were simple, their shape and structure reflecting their owner’s essence and experiences. Beron’s own soul space was a wall of glass, long needles jutting out, each needle representing a reflection of his life, his techniques. The stronger a technique, the longer the needle. It was structured, ordered, a reflection of his mastery over his art.
But Cal’s soul was different. It wasn’t just deep; it was vast, an endless pool of swirling darkness that felt bottomless. It was complex, layered, and shifting in ways Beron hadn’t seen before. Looking at it made him dizzy, like staring into an abyss that threatened to swallow him whole.
It frightened him. Despite his control in this space, despite his years of mastery and experience, staring at Cal’s soul felt like being prey in the presence of a predator. There was something raw, untamed about it, something that went beyond mere power. It wasn’t just hunger—it was the potential for destruction, creation, and everything in between. And it was growing stronger with every breath Cal took.
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Resolve.
Cal’s mind felt clearer than ever before. His time in Beron’s space had brought him to a new understanding of himself, something he hadn’t known in his past life. The old Cal lacked direction, wavering between goals and unsure of what he truly wanted. But here, through days of reflection and hard training, something had shifted.
In his past, resolve hadn’t been an aspect of his personality. He’d been indecisive, burdened by guilt, shame, and the constant weight of others' expectations. But that was the old him. The new Cal was different. The new Cal wasn’t going to give up or give in.
He understood now that if he truly wanted something, if he set his sights on a goal, he would chase it with unwavering determination. This world offered him opportunities he’d never had before, and the hunger that had once scared him now drove him. It wasn’t just about survival or satisfying some monstrous craving—it was about mastering his fate. From this moment on, when Cal meant something, wanted something, loved something—he would pursue it with absolute, unshakable resolve.
There would be no hesitation, no second-guessing. He either succeeded or died. But failure? That was never going to be an option.
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Beron watched with sharp, discerning eyes, his experience telling him that something momentous was unfolding. He had witnessed many awakenings in his time—moments when individuals crossed the threshold from potential to power. But what was happening now was different, extraordinary.
Cal’s soul was not merely awakening an art; it was undergoing a profound transformation. The energy emanating from Cal’s essence was palpable, a swirling maelstrom of raw power and intent. It was as though his entire being was realigning, reshaping itself in response to a force far deeper and more significant than Beron had ever encountered.
The air around them seemed to thrum with tension, charged with an intensity that Beron could almost taste. Cal’s soul was evolving, its shape becoming increasingly distinct and defined. Where before there had been a chaotic and bottomless depth, there was now a burgeoning clarity, a structured form emerging from the chaos. It was as if molten metal was being poured into a mold, solidifying into a form of undeniable potency.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Beron’s seasoned instincts, honed through countless battles and experiences, told him that this was no ordinary awakening. The weight of what was happening was immense, a palpable shift in Cal’s very essence. Beron could sense the primal force at play—something that transcended mere power and touched upon the divine. Cal was not just evolving; he was transforming into a force of nature, a being of monumental power and purpose.
The realization struck Beron like a thunderclap. He had seen many rise to greatness, but Cal’s transformation was different. There was something elemental, almost godlike, about the way his soul was aligning with its new path. It was as if Cal was not merely becoming stronger but was becoming a new entity altogether—one that could reshape the world around him.
Beron’s breath caught in his chest as he observed the raw, unfettered power surging from Cal. He understood, with crystal clarity, that Cal was on the verge of something extraordinary. This was not just a personal transformation; it was a cosmic event, a heralding of a new force entering the world. Beron remained silent, his awe-struck gaze fixed on Cal. The moment was monumental, and he knew it was not one for words but for silent witness to a grand awakening.
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Evolution.
Cal had changed, and he was always changing. His abilities, his body, his power—all of it was in constant motion. Coming to this world had altered him forever, but evolution didn’t move backward; it pushed forward, toward improvement. Stronger, faster, smarter. It was about becoming something more, something greater.
He had evolved, and he would continue to evolve. Each step was one of growth, each failure a lesson, each victory a new height to surpass. This world wasn’t going to break him—it was going to shape him, refine him.
He would rise above it all, not just surviving but thriving. Because to evolve wasn’t just to change—it was to become unstoppable.
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There it was, unmistakable and awe-inspiring. Beron saw it with crystal clarity now—the intricate threads of Cal’s art weaving together into a coherent whole. It was a sight to behold, a manifestation of raw power and intention. Cal was in the process of forging something truly formidable, and the strength of it was undeniable.
Beron watched as Cal’s soul, which had once seemed like a swirling abyss, now resonated with an intricate symphony of chords and sounds. Each note, each vibration, was perfectly attuned to the next, creating a harmonious melody of transformation and growth. The threads of Cal’s art were intertwining with such precision that it felt like watching a master composer at work, crafting a grand opus that echoed the very essence of his being.
The symphony of Cal’s soul was not just a beautiful sound; it was a profound expression of his essence. It spoke of his hunger, resolve, and evolution, weaving these core aspects into a singular, powerful entity. The music of his art was both captivating and overwhelming, a testament to the depth and complexity of his journey.
As Beron listened to the resonant song of Cal’s art, a genuine smile spread across his face. The depth of Cal’s transformation was nothing short of remarkable. In Beron’s mind, Cal was on the cusp of joining the ranks of the greatest art users in the world. This wasn’t just another awakening—it was a culmination of everything that Cal had worked towards, a triumph of his spirit and strength.
The elegance and power of Cal’s art were evident, and Beron couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of respect and admiration. Cal was not only awakening his art but was also emerging as a force to be reckoned with, one that would undoubtedly leave a significant mark on the world of art users.
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Hunger.
Resolve.
Evolution.
These were the three pillars of his aspirations and inner designs—who he was, who he wanted to be, and who he would become. Cal floated above the black hole, the cosmos stretched out around him in a grand display of celestial chaos. He felt the immense space enveloping him, not just as a physical expanse but as an extension of his own essence. It was both beautiful and profound—a reflection of his inner transformation.
His gaze was drawn to the tumbling asteroids and swirling stars that filled the void. With a determined focus, Cal raised his hands, and the raw, untamed energy of the cosmos responded to his will. The asteroids began to slow their chaotic dance, their collisions turning from destructive impacts to harmonious integrations. As if under a spell, the rocks shattered and melted, their molten forms coalescing into a long, flat plate of stone beneath his outstretched palms.
The stones twisted and curved, bending to Cal’s intent. He wove his essence into the very fabric of the rock, molding it with an artist's precision. The once jagged, tumultuous debris transformed into a smooth, bowl-like platform. The stars above seemed to heed his call, their light intensifying as they gathered together into a swirling nebula of radiant brilliance. The dark heart of the black hole, symbolizing the void of hunger and emptiness, began to orbit around the central bowl. The stars and the black hole merged into a dynamic dance, each rotating in perfect harmony.
As Cal stood on the newly formed platform, it began to shift in response to his presence. The stone floor rose and undulated, pillars emerging from the ground with elegant grace. Staircases spiraled upwards, and walls of intricate, flowing design arose, creating an open-walled grand temple. The carvings on these walls were detailed and expressive, capturing the essence of his life's memories—each scene a testament to his journey, struggles, and triumphs.
At the heart of this grand temple lay a central platform with a diamond-shaped indentation, perfectly shaped to receive his core. Cal envisioned this space as a sanctum where his core would reside upon his return to the world, integrating seamlessly with his true nature. The temple's structure and design were a masterpiece of architectural art, embodying both his past and his aspirations.
The twin stars, one embodying the emptiness of hunger and the other radiating power, continued their celestial orbit around the bowl. As Cal ascended the steps to a magnificent throne, the entire space settled into its final, awe-inspiring form.
The throne was a stunning creation of polished obsidian and gleaming gold. Its high back was adorned with intricate patterns that seemed to shift and shimmer, alive with a pulsating energy. The seat was upholstered in rich, dark velvet, symbolizing both comfort and authority. The armrests were sculpted into fierce, elegant shapes, representing strength and grace. As Cal ran his hand across the luxurious seat and sat down, the grand temple came to a standstill. The stars' orbit slowed to a serene rhythm, and the entire space resonated with a sense of completed purpose.
Cal leaned back in his chair, the world around him thrumming with purpose. He gazed out at his soul space, his inner dominion, and it was good. The vast, evolving grandeur of his inner world now stood as a testament to his journey and his power.
As Cal sat on the throne, he gazed out at the grand, evolving expanse of his soul space. The realization settled over him like a mantle. Mistress would never control him again, but she had been right about one thing: the name "Cal" no longer suited him. It belonged to a past self, one marked by weakness and indecision. He had transcended that identity. He needed a name that truly reflected who he was now—a being of supreme power, resolve, and relentless ambition.
A story from his childhood, a fragment of mythology and legend, surfaced in his mind. He remembered tales of a titan, a figure of immense power and authority, who commanded both respect and fear. The name carried with it a legacy of dominance and transformation. Cal might not have known every detail of the legend, but the essence of the name resonated with him deeply.
He was no longer just a man; he was a force, a king in his own right. The name felt right, symbolizing his new purpose and the evolution he had undergone. With a sense of finality and certainty, Cal embraced this new identity.
Looking out at the expanse of his soul space, he declared.
"I am Kronos."
And existence itself acknowledged him. A ripple was sent out through his soul space and beyond. The black hole and the stars continued their celestial dance, their orbits perfectly aligned with the power of his new name. The transformation was complete. Kronos was born.
Art Awakened
Ascent of the Void Sovereign