Raiden Alaric

I stood outside my family's front door, keys in hand, trying to work up the courage to go inside. The familiar porch light cast the same warm glow it always had, and I could hear the muffled sounds of the TV through the windows. Everything looked exactly the same as it had a week ago, but somehow I felt like a completely different person standing here.

How the hell do I even begin to explain this?

Through the living room window, I could see my parents on the couch. Dad was reading something on his tablet while Mom had what looked like a magazine in her lap, though she kept glancing toward the front door. I could just make out Iris's small form curled up asleep against Mom's side. They were probably still worried about my disappearing act earlier.

"Hey Mom, Dad, funny story. Turns out some rich asshole tried to hurt me, so my mentor allegedly 'talked' to his family and somehow convinced them to give me all their Earth assets as compensation. Oh, and I'm living in a mansion now with a staff of maids. Also, I might be developing aura techniques that don't technically exist yet. Pass the salt?"

Yeah, that conversation was going to go over real well.

How do you explain Chronos had allegedly "talked" to the family of Ella's fiancé and somehow convinced them to hand over everything they owned on Earth? Somehow, that conversation convinced them to give me nearly $1.2 billion in real estate? That my mentor had apparently made such a compelling argument that the Brightmoor family decided to pack up and leave Earth entirely?

And that was assuming they'd even believe the supernatural parts. The wealth transfer alone would be hard enough to explain. Nearly $1.2 billion in real estate suddenly transferred to their son by some family they'd never heard of? That sounded like money laundering at best, criminal conspiracy at worst.

I took a deep breath and finally unlocked the door, stepping into the familiar warmth of home. The scent of Mom's cooking still lingered in the air, mixed with the vanilla candle she always had burning in the evenings.

"Raiden?" Mom's voice called from the living room. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me," I called back, hanging my keys on the hook by the door.

I walked into the living room where both my parents looked up at me with expressions of relief mixed with residual worry. Dad set his tablet aside, and Mom carefully shifted Iris's sleeping form so she could fold her magazine without waking her.

"There he is," Dad said with a small smile. "Your mother was starting to plan search parties."

"I was not planning search parties," Mom protested, though the slight flush on her cheeks suggested she'd at least considered it. "I was just... concerned."

I settled into my usual spot in the armchair across from them, trying to act normal. Which was harder than it sounded when you were sitting on information that would fundamentally change your family's understanding of reality.

"So," Mom said, studying my face with that maternal radar that could detect lies from three rooms away, "how was this intensive training session with Chronos?"

Here we go.

"It was... productive," I said, which was completely true. "We covered a lot of ground. New aura techniques, advanced meditation practices, combat applications. Chronos had me using this instruction node device that lets you experience weeks of training in just a few hours through time dilation in your aether realm."

"And that's why you couldn't answer your phone for six hours?" Dad asked. He wasn't accusatory, just curious, but I could hear the underlying parental concern.

"The meditation was really deep," I said, which was actually true. "Chronos gave me this training device - an instruction node. It creates immersive training scenarios in your aether realm where you can practice techniques safely. I guess I got more into it than I expected. Six hours passed like it was nothing."

Mom nodded slowly, but I could see her processing my responses, looking for inconsistencies. She'd raised two kids, she had finely tuned bullshit detection.

"Well, you look tired," she said finally. "Are you getting enough sleep? You know how intense those training sessions get when you stay over there."

Because I have my own mansion now and don't know how to tell you that someone tried to hurt me and my mentor allegedly 'talked' to their family until they agreed to transfer their entire Earth fortune to me as compensation.

"I'm sleeping fine, Mom. Just... you know, training is intensive. Chronos has been pushing everyone pretty hard lately while we wait to hear back from the Association about Academy qualifications."

"Speaking of which," Dad said, leaning forward slightly, "any word yet on which Academies you'll qualify for? Last we talked, you seemed pretty confident about your evaluation results."

I had been confident - finishing at the top of my evaluation group had been a huge accomplishment. But now, considering everything that had happened since then, Academy entrance seemed almost quaint compared to accidentally inventing new aura techniques while sitting on a fortune that came from my mentor's alleged "conversation" with some very wealthy people.

"Still waiting to hear back," I said. "The Association said it could take a few weeks to process all the applications and match people with appropriate Academy programs. But yeah, I'm feeling good about my chances."

We talked for another hour about mundane things. How work was going for Dad, Mom's latest book club drama, whether Iris was enjoying her summer vacation so far. Normal family conversation that should have been comforting but instead made me feel like I was watching everything through glass.

Every time there was a pause in the conversation, I found myself on the verge of saying something. Actually, there's something I need to tell you both. The words would form in my mind, and I'd open my mouth, and then... nothing. I'd chicken out and redirect to something safer.

How do you even start that conversation? How do you explain that the family of Ella's fiancé had tried to systematically break me, that my mentor had responded by allegedly having a "conversation" with them, and that as a result I now owned more property than our family had ever dreamed of?

How do you explain that whatever Chronos had said to them had been convincing enough to make them transfer nearly $1.2 billion in assets and apparently leave Earth entirely? That the car I'd been driving wasn't just a gift, but a birthday present from someone who could have conversations that persuasive?

And that was before even getting into the more complex aspects of everything. The instruction nodes, the aether realm training, the techniques I was developing that apparently didn't exist in conventional Ascendant knowledge.

"You're being awfully quiet tonight," Mom observed, that parental radar pinging again. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Just tired," I said, which wasn't entirely false. The mental exhaustion from the training session was real, even if it wasn't the whole story. "It's been a long day."

"Well, you should get some rest," Dad said, standing up and stretching. "Your old room is ready for you, just like always."

My old room. The small bedroom at the back of the house with the twin bed and the posters I'd put up in high school. It seemed almost surreal that I'd be sleeping there tonight after spending the last few days in a mansion that had been transferred to my name through what amounted to supernatural extortion.

"Thanks, Dad."

As we all headed upstairs, I caught Mom giving me one more searching look. She knew something was different, even if she couldn't put her finger on what. But she didn't push, which I was grateful for.

"Goodnight, honey," she said, giving me a hug that felt like home despite everything. "I'm glad you're safe."

"Goodnight, Mom."

I closed the door to my childhood bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking around at the familiar space. The Superman poster Emma had given me for my fifteenth birthday. The bookshelf packed with fantasy novels I'd devoured in high school. The desk where I'd struggled through homework and dreamed about becoming an Ascendant.

Everything was exactly the same. I felt like a stranger in my own life.

I pulled out my phone and stared at it for a while, thinking about calling Chronos. He'd probably have advice about how to handle this situation. But what would I even ask him?

Hey, how do you tell your family that you allegedly had a very persuasive conversation with some rich people and they decided to give me their entire Earth fortune without sounding insane?

Tomorrow, I decided. Tomorrow I'd figure out how to have that conversation. Maybe I'd talk to Chronos first, or maybe I'd just work up the courage to sit my parents down and try to explain the impossible.

Tonight, I was too much of a coward.

I changed into pajamas that felt strange after wearing the expensive clothes Seraphina had provided, and climbed into the narrow bed that seemed impossibly small after the massive four-poster in the mansion.

But despite the unfamiliarity of being back in familiar surroundings, exhaustion eventually won out. As I drifted off to sleep, my last conscious thought was a promise to myself.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'd stop being a coward and tell them the truth.

Even if I had no idea how to explain that the truth involved my mentor having alleged "conversations" that were somehow persuasive enough to make entire wealthy families transfer their fortunes and leave the planet.

—

The next morning, I woke up with what I thought was a brilliant idea.

Why struggle with explaining everything when I could just show them? Actions speak louder than words, right? Plus, seeing the mansion and meeting the staff would make the whole situation feel more real and less like some elaborate lie.

This is perfect. I'll just bring them over, give them a tour, and explain everything naturally. What could go wrong?

"Good morning, Master Alaric," Seraphina answered on the first ring. "How may I assist you?"

"Hey Seraphina, I want to bring my family over today. Could you have one of the maids pick us up?"

"Of course, Master Alaric. I'll arrange transportation immediately."

I should have been more specific about which car to use. I really, really should have been more specific.

Twenty minutes later, a vehicle pulled up in front of my house. Not just any vehicle, a Mercedes Sprinter van. Now, that might not sound so bad on the surface... until you realize it was a VIP fully kitted-out luxury van with tinted windows, leather everything, and enough amenities to make a private jet jealous.

My family emerged from the house and just... stopped. All three of them stood on the porch, staring at this rolling palace that had materialized in our modest suburban driveway.

"Raiden," Mom said slowly, "what exactly is that?"

"Transportation?" I offered weakly.

Dad circled the van like he was inspecting a UFO. "Son, this thing probably costs more than our house."

"It's... borrowed," I said, which was technically true.

Iris, bless her heart, had no such reservations. The moment we climbed inside, she was everywhere. Touching the leather seats, pressing buttons on the entertainment system, marveling at the mini-fridge.

"Iris, sit down and don't touch anything," Mom warned, but I could see her own eyes wandering over the interior with barely concealed amazement.

"It's okay," I said. "She can explore."

Iris beamed and continued her investigation until Mom gave her one of those maternal looks that could stop a charging rhinoceros. She immediately settled into her seat, hands folded, but I caught her sneaking glances at all the buttons she wasn't allowed to press.

The strangest part was that my parents weren't asking the questions I expected. No "How can you afford this?" or "What's really going on here?" Instead, Dad kept shooting me knowing glances, and Mom made casual references to "meeting parents" and "making good impressions."

It took me embarrassingly long to realize what they thought was happening.

They thought I was taking them to meet Ella's family. They thought this was some elaborate gesture to give a good first impression on my parents. That my "girlfriend's" wealthy parents wanted to give a formal invitation by sparing no expense. It all made perfect sense from their perspective.

Oh no.

This is going to go so much worse than I planned.

When we turned through the gates of the estate, my father whistled low under his breath. "Well, I'll be damned. No wonder you've been nervous about this, son."

"Dad, I—"

"It's alright, Raiden," Mom said, reaching over to pat my hand. "We raised you right. Just be yourself."

I wanted to crawl under the seat and disappear.

The van pulled up to the front entrance. I could see the massive doors of the mansion waiting beyond. Everything looked exactly as impressive as I remembered, which was exactly the problem.

"Ready?" I asked, my voice coming out slightly strangled.

We stepped out of the van and walked toward the front doors. I was frantically trying to figure out how to explain everything when the doors swung open and my worst nightmare materialized before my eyes.

Seraphina had assembled every single maid in the entrance hall. They stood in perfect formation, dressed in their formal uniforms, looking like something out of a period drama.

No. Please, no.

The moment we crossed the threshold, every maid bowed in perfect unison.

"Welcome home, Master Alaric."

The words echoed through the grand entrance hall like a death sentence.

My family froze. Just completely stopped moving, like someone had hit a pause button on reality.

I could feel three sets of eyes slowly turning toward me. The weight of their stares was unbearable.

I did the only thing I could do in that moment.

I slowly turned away, avoiding their gaze entirely, and stared very intently at a particularly interesting piece of marble on the far wall.

I felt my mother's stare burning into the side of my head. Her footsteps were slow, deliberate, as she approached me.

"Raiden..." Her voice was dangerously calm. "My sweet boy... why are they saying 'welcome home'?"

A pause that felt like an eternity.

"And why are they calling you... master?"

Meanwhile, my father stood frozen in place, clearly debating whether he should feel proud or disappointed. I could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure out which reaction would get him in less trouble with Mom.

But Iris? Iris was having the time of her life.

"YOU LIVE HERE?!" she squealed, her voice echoing through the massive entrance hall.

Before anyone could stop her, she took off running with her arms spread wide, spinning in circles as she took in the marble columns, the crystal chandelier, the sweeping staircase.

"This is like a princess castle!" she announced to the world. "And you all look so pretty!" she said, beaming at the maids in their formal uniforms.

The effect was instantaneous. Every single maid melted.

"Oh my goodness, isn't she adorable?" one of them whispered.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

"Look at that sweet smile!"

"Where do we keep the sweets?" another asked urgently. "She needs cookies immediately."

"I'll get the good chocolates from the kitchen!"

—

Twenty minutes later, I sat behind the massive desk in what Seraphina insisted on calling "my office," with her standing beside me in perfect professional posture. The room felt absurdly formal for what had just been the most awkward conversation of my life.

Well, technically, Seraphina had done most of the explaining. I'd mostly sat there making occasional confirmations and trying not to disappear into the leather chair.

My parents were slumped in the chairs across from the desk, looking like they'd been hit by a truck carrying impossible information. Dad kept opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, while Mom stared blankly at the ornate ceiling as if it might suddenly make sense of everything.

The silence stretched uncomfortably. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear Iris's delighted laughter echoing through the halls, probably being fed her weight in expensive chocolates by a small army of devoted maids.

I envied her simple joy in this moment.

"So," Dad finally managed, his voice coming out slightly hoarse. "Let me see if I understand this correctly."

He cleared his throat and sat up straighter, though he still looked shell-shocked.

"Some wealthy family... tried to hurt you. Your mentor... had a conversation with them. And now you... own all of this."

That's probably the most diplomatic summary possible.

"That's... essentially correct, sir," Seraphina answered when I remained silent.

Mom finally looked down from the ceiling, her eyes focusing on me with laser precision.

"Raiden Alaric," she said, using my full name in that tone that had terrified me since childhood. "How long have you been living here?"

Oh, we're using the full name. I'm cooked.

"A few days," I admitted quietly.

"A few days," she repeated slowly. "And you didn't think to mention that you suddenly owned a mansion?"

The question hung in the air like an accusation. I sank a little deeper into my chair.

But then something in me snapped. The guilt, the anxiety, the impossibility of the whole situation, it all bubbled up at once.

"Well, how was I supposed to explain it?" I said, sitting up straighter and looking her directly in the eye. "Tell me, really. I would have liked to know how to explain all of this."

Mom raised her finger, ready to deliver what was undoubtedly going to be a devastating maternal counterargument.

Then she stopped. Her finger hung in the air for a moment before she slowly lowered her hand.

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

Nothing came out.

For the first time in my entire life, I had rendered my mother speechless.

The moment I realized it, I felt... icky. Like something fundamental had shifted in the natural order of things. Mothers weren't supposed to be speechless. They were supposed to have answers, comebacks, solutions to impossible problems.

But at the same time, I felt like I could fight a god and win.

What is this feeling?

Over the next twenty minutes, the tension in the room gradually dissolved. Seraphina moved with quiet efficiency, pouring water for everyone and somehow managing to make the impossible situation feel slightly more manageable through sheer professional competence.

Dad was the first to break the remaining awkwardness.

"So..." he said, trying to sound casual but failing spectacularly. "When am I getting a matching car?"

Mom gave him a look and swatted his arm.

Dad immediately clutched his arm like he'd been mortally wounded, looking at her with exaggerated betrayal. "Ow! The woman I married for better or worse just assaulted me in front of our son!"

Mom rolled her eyes. "You'll live. And you shouldn't be asking our son for cars."

"But think of the practicality," Dad protested, still nursing his "injured" arm. "If we're going to visit regularly, I need appropriate transportation. So you can get that van for yourself. Also, a father son duo also having the same car just makes sense. I'll take it in Orange by the way."

She smacked him again.

I couldn't help it, I burst out laughing. The sound echoed through the office, and suddenly everything felt a little more normal again.

After we'd all calmed down, I took a deep breath and looked at both of them.

"I want to talk about your finances," I said. "All of them. Mortgage, bills, everything."

They exchanged glances.

"Raiden, you don't need to—" Mom started.

"I can afford really anything I want now," I interrupted. "And I've been thinking about what I want to do with that. Seraphina, could you look into what it would take to retire them? Both of them. Completely."

The sound of two people simultaneously spitting out their water filled the office.

"Raiden!" Mom gasped, wiping her mouth with the napkin Seraphina had somehow produced instantly. "You absolutely cannot—"

"We're not taking your money," Dad said firmly, though I could see the shock in his eyes. "That's not how this works."

"Yes, you are," I said, leaning forward. "And here's why."

I looked between them, these two people who had supported every dream I'd ever had, even when those dreams seemed impossible.

"You both worked yourselves to the bone to support me and Iris. You kept a roof over my head, clothes on my back, made sure I had everything I needed for school. You believed in me when I couldn't even Awaken properly. Most importantly, you were always there for me. You never once made me feel like a burden, even when money was tight."

My voice grew stronger as I continued.

"You supported me through my entire journey, and you never asked for anything back except for me to keep trying. Well, I made it. And now I want to repay you for believing in me."

I sat back in my chair, meeting their eyes with determination.

"It's my turn now."

My parents looked at each other for a long moment. I could see an entire conversation happening in that glance, twenty years of marriage compressed into a few seconds of silent communication.

Finally, Dad cleared his throat.

"You're really serious about this," he said.

"Completely."

Mom wiped her eyes, though she was trying to hide it.

"Alright," she said quietly. "Alright, we'll... we'll think about it."

"We'll do more than think about it," Dad added, his voice rough with emotion. "If you're sure about this, son... then we accept."

—

I left Seraphina to handle the logistics. Financial planning, retirement arrangements, all the impossible paperwork that came with transferring a fortune. She was already pulling out her tablet, making notes with the kind of professional efficiency that made the absurd seem routine.

Time to escape before they start asking questions I still can't answer.

I slipped out quietly and made my way through the mansion's corridors. Passing one of the sitting rooms, I caught a glimpse of Iris holding court at what looked like the world's most elaborate tea party. At least six maids surrounded her, all fussing over her like visiting royalty. Someone had found her a tiny tiara.

She looked absolutely delighted. At least someone was having a good day.

The meditation chamber offered the quiet I needed to process everything that had just happened. But when I opened the door, I stopped short.

Chronos was already inside, sitting in a perfect lotus position in the center of the room. He'd traded his usual formal attire for comfortable training clothes, looking more relaxed than I'd seen him in a while.

Before I could say anything, he spoke without opening his eyes, a smug smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"So," he said, finally opening his eyes to look at me. "What did you think of the training node?"

That smug look told me everything I needed to know. He'd been waiting for this conversation.

I walked over and settled into a sitting position across from him, matching his grin with one of my own.

"Well, it was... educational."

What followed was me explaining everything I'd discovered during my six hours in the aether realm. The aura resonance training, the pulse techniques I'd developed, the emotional reading skills, the combat enhancement applications. I told him about the stealth pulse that the node couldn't recognize, the hybrid techniques I'd created, the way my Origin had adapted and evolved everything I'd learned.

When I described the stealth pulse technique, Chronos actually stopped me mid-sentence.

"Wait," he said, holding up a hand. His expression shifted from smug satisfaction to genuine surprise. "You developed a stealth variant? On your own?"

"Yeah," I said, a little confused by his reaction. "I mean, the regular pulse was so obvious with that detection ping. I figured there had to be a way to make it quieter."

Chronos leaned back, looking at me with something that might have been respect.

"Raiden, what you've done is extremely rare," he said slowly. "Most Ascendants learn techniques exactly as they're taught and never think to improve them. Taking common knowledge and transforming it into something genuinely unique requires a level of conceptual thinking that most people simply don't possess."

He paused, studying me intently.

"Even among those who do have this kind of innovative thinking, they usually can't manage it until they reach Nexus rank. The mental framework required for genuine technique development is typically beyond anyone below that level." His eyes narrowed slightly. "You just did something very high-level for someone who awakened a week ago."

He paused, as if considering something.

"I can do the same thing," he admitted, "but it took me decades to develop that kind of innovative mindset. The fact that you managed it instinctively, on your first real training session..." He shook his head. "That's not normal, Raiden."

Not normal seems to be my specialty these days.

"The stealth pulse shows you're not just absorbing knowledge," he continued. "You're actively evolving it. That's the difference between a good Ascendant and a truly exceptional one."

"Now that," he said, leaning forward slightly, "is exactly what I was hoping to hear."

He actually clapped, slow, deliberate applause that somehow managed to sound both mocking and genuinely impressed.

"Most people use training devices exactly as instructed. They follow the curriculum, master the established techniques, and call it progress." His eyes gleamed with something that might have been pride. "It's rare for someone to push beyond the basic standards and actually innovate."

Coming from him, that actually means something.

"The stealth pulse shows you're thinking like a true Ascendant," he continued. "Not just learning what exists, but creating what should exist."

He settled back into his meditation pose, but his attention remained focused entirely on me.

"So," he said, that familiar intensity returning to his voice. "Are you ready for Aura Forging and Tempering?"

I straightened up, immediately interested.

"I'm going to teach you these techniques first," he explained, "so that you can better understand Aura Release when we get to it. Think of it as building the foundation before constructing the house."

My grin returned in full force. "I'm ready."

"Good." Chronos settled into his teaching posture, hands resting on his knees. "First, let's talk about what you're actually working with."

He gestured toward my chest. "Your Aether Core, located in your solar plexus, is like the engine of your aura. It generates and stores your soul's volatile energy, then channels it through your aura channels, think of them as vein-like pathways that distribute power to your muscles, bones, and nerves."

I nodded, following along.

"Right now, your aura is finite. Overuse drains the Core, causing weakness, dizziness, or worse. That's what happened during your awakening fight, you pushed too hard too fast."

That explains the exhaustion afterward.

"Forging and Tempering," he continued, "are like weapon-crafting for your Core and channels. Forging expands your capacity and strengthens your channels. Tempering optimizes them for efficiency and resilience. Both are essential for advancing to higher ranks."

"Now," Chronos said, his tone shifting back to instruction, "let's start with Aura Forging. But first, remember the meditation I taught you?"

I nodded. "The glass cup visualization."

"Exactly. You are the cup in the center of the room. The room is the world around you. Your aura is water that needs to fill that cup." His expression grew serious. "But listen carefully, fill it to the brim and hold it there. Never let it overflow."

"What happens if it overflows?" I asked.

Chronos's eyes darkened slightly. "Reality dissociation. You'll feel like you're floating outside your own body, watching your life from a distance. Cognitive fragmentation, your thoughts will scatter like broken glass, unable to form complete ideas. Hyperawareness overload where every sensation, sound, and emotion hits you simultaneously with no mental filters."

He paused, making sure I was listening.

"Meditative paralysis—you'll be trapped in the meditation state, aware but unable to surface back to normal consciousness. Or temporal loops where your mind gets stuck replaying the same thoughts over and over." His voice carried the weight of experience. "The cup meditation is designed to ground you and focus your mind. Overflow breaks that grounding entirely."

Note to self: do not overfill the cup.

"These aren't theoretical warnings, Raiden. I've seen Ascendants lose hours, sometimes days, trapped in overflow states. Some never fully recover their ability to maintain proper meditation focus."

He paused, his expression darkening further.

"And before you ask, yes, some people deliberately try to overflow the cup. There are Ascendants who believe forcing an overflow will accelerate their advancement, push them to higher ranks faster." His voice carried a note of disgust. "They think the mental strain and chaos will somehow forge their minds stronger."

Of course people would try to cheat the system.

"Is it possible?" I asked.

"Yes," he admitted reluctantly. "There have been instances where controlled overflow led to rapid advancement. But the risk far outweighs any potential reward. For every one success story, there are dozens who end up permanently damaged, unable to meditate properly ever again, their mental foundations shattered."

Chronos met my eyes directly.

"The cup meditation is designed to be filled to the brim for a reason. That's the optimal state for safe, steady advancement. The moment you start chasing shortcuts through overflow, you're gambling with your sanity."

I swallowed hard. "Understood. Fill to the brim, hold it steady."

"Good. Now begin."

I closed my eyes and focused on the visualization. In my mind's eye, I was a clear glass cup sitting in the middle of an endless room. I could feel my aura like water, flowing upward to fill me completely. I watched carefully as it approached the rim, slowing the flow, bringing it to the very edge and holding it there, full but not overflowing.

"Perfect," Chronos said, somehow sensing when I'd achieved the proper state. "Now, while maintaining that exact level, we begin the forging process."

He guided me through the meditation, helping me visualize my Core as a glowing forge in my chest.

"Heat your aura with deep breaths, then cycle it through your channels, compressing and purifying it with intense focus. Think of it like hammering molten steel. Each cycle expands the Core, widens the channels, and strengthens your body."

The process was exactly as advertised, brutal. It felt like I was literally forging something inside my chest, the heat and pressure building with each cycle. My aura roared with the intensity, demanding focus and grit just to maintain the technique while keeping my cup filled to the brim.

"Don't crack now," I muttered under my breath, echoing what I imagined my aura was telling me.

Hours passed as Chronos walked me through the fundamentals. The Soulforge Surge technique that could double my aura capacity after intense battles. The careful balance required to avoid Core fractures that could leak tainted aura and trigger dark urges.

"This drives mid-rank progression," he explained as I worked through another cycle. "Initiate to Adept. A forged Core is like a forged broadsword, sturdy and reliable for real combat."

When we moved to Tempering, the sensation completely changed.

"Now we refine what you've forged," Chronos said. "Tempering is precise, like a blacksmith's final polish. You're embedding specific traits into your Core and channels. But remember, keep that cup full throughout."

This felt focused and controlled, like threading aura through my channels with surgical precision. Instead of the raw power of Forging, Tempering was about efficiency and resilience.

"Thread your aura with intent," he instructed. "Resilience for defense, potency for attacks. But be careful, overdo it and your Core becomes brittle. Underdo it and it stays weak."

I could feel my channels gaining flexibility as I worked, adapting to handle varied flows without damage. My body was becoming more resistant to both aura backlash and physical impacts.

"This unlocks advancement to higher ranks," Chronos explained. "Adept to Master. A tempered Core is like a masterwork katana, versatile and lethal."

By the time we finished, I was exhausted but exhilarated. The changes were immediate and tangible, my Core felt more substantial, my channels smoother and stronger. Throughout it all, I'd maintained that visualization of being a perfectly filled cup.

But there was something else. My aura felt... different. More stable, more controlled.

I flexed my fingers, sensing the improved flow through my channels. The energy moved cleaner now, without the rough edges I'd grown used to. My Core pulsed with a steady rhythm that felt more powerful than before, like an engine that had been properly tuned.

"How do you feel?" Chronos asked.

"Like I just upgraded my entire system," I said, marveling at the smooth circulation of aura through my body. "My Core feels solid. Really solid. And the flow through my channels is so much cleaner."

Chronos smiled with satisfaction. "That's your Aether Core stabilizing and your channels forming properly. You've built the foundation for sustained aura use and advancement."

I stood up and stretched, feeling the aura respond to my movements with newfound precision. Where before it had felt like trying to control water with my bare hands, now it felt like I actually had tools to work with.

"Your aura capacity has increased significantly," Chronos continued, "and your control has improved dramatically. You'll find techniques that were difficult before are now manageable, and your overall efficiency is much better."

He looked at me with something that might have been pride.

"Congratulations, Raiden. You are now officially a Green Rank."

Green Rank. The words hit me with unexpected weight. After years of being unable to Awaken, after all the training and doubt and struggle, I was finally ranked. Officially part of the Ascendant world.

"Tomorrow," Chronos said, "we start on Aura Release. Now that you have a proper foundation, you're ready to learn how to project your aura beyond your body. But for now, rest. Let your Core and channels finish adjusting to what you've accomplished today."

I leaned forward, a question burning in my mind. "How often can I do this? I'm assuming I can speed-run advancement and get to Blue Rank by the end of the week."

Chronos's eyes narrowed, a mix of amusement and warning in his gaze. "Speed-run advancement? Raiden, your ambition is admirable, but your Core isn't a game console you can overclock without consequences."

He settled back, his tone shifting to that familiar instructional cadence. "Aura Forging and Tempering are intensive processes. Right now, your Aether Core and channels can handle them about two to three times a day, maximum. Push beyond that, and you risk Core strain, think of it like overworking a muscle until it tears. You'll feel nausea, migraines, maybe even temporary aura blackout where you can't channel at all. In extreme cases, you could fracture your Core, leaking tainted aura that'll mess with your emotions and judgment."

I winced. "Two to three times. Got it. But... is there a way to do it more?"

Chronos nodded, considering. "In an aura-rich environment, like a natural aether spring or a high-grade training chamber. The ambient energy can supplement your Core's output, letting you sustain Forging or Tempering for longer, maybe four or five sessions. But those places are rare, and you'd still need rest to avoid burnout."

He paused, then added, "There's also Aura Absorption, a technique that lets you draw external aether directly into your Core to fuel your training. With it, you could theoretically cycle Forging and Tempering for hours, not just a few sessions. But don't get your hopes up. It's a complex technique, and you can't touch it until you reach Blue Rank."

"Why Blue Rank?" I asked, leaning forward.

"At Blue Rank, your body undergoes a purification process. Your Core and channels purge impurities, residual toxins, fragmented aether, all the junk that builds up from intense training. Only then can you safely handle the raw influx of external aether that Absorption requires. Try it now, and those impurities will clog your channels like sludge in a pipe. Best case, you're sick for weeks. Worst case, your Core collapses entirely."

I swallowed hard, the image of a collapsing Core more than enough to temper my impatience. "So, slow and steady until Blue Rank."

"Exactly," Chronos said, his voice firm but not unkind. "Two to three times a day, with proper rest between. Build your foundation properly, and Blue Rank will come in time. Rush it, and you'll be rebuilding your Core from scratch, if you're lucky."

He stood, signaling the end of the lesson. "Get some sleep, Raiden. You've got a big day tomorrow."

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