It was the following day and the first day of training, to prepare himself for the exciting life he had mapped out when he had fallen from the Inner Heaven. He was determined to get stronger and eventually awaken so that he could support the kittens and give them a good and easy life.
He thought about the tournament; many people would be there, and many of them who would be competing with him would have a tremendous amount of potential, equal to his or even surpassing him. That thought haunted him as he wanted to be selected, no matter what. No matter the consequences.
The thought of facing countless opponents, each hungry for the same prize, sent a shiver down his spine, not of fear, but of anticipation.
Nova began by assessing his current mortal body. He was lean, but his muscles lacked the strength and endurance he suspected he'd need. His stamina was questionable; the jet-lag exhaustion from his arrival still vibrated throughout his body, which wasn't good, since the tournament was only a fortnight away. Though he still had time, even though that time could fade away in the blink of an eye.
He started by stretching, feeling the pull of tight tendons and the faint ache of not using his mortal body till now, feeling a little weird still, as he was still in the transition to get fully accustomed to his mortal body.
He knew his new mortal body was like a blank canvas, ready to be painted on, ready to tell a story, ready to be melded into something far greater than anything anyone had ever seen before. And to bring this canvas to life, he had to train regularly and thoroughly. It would be grueling and painful, and everything that he hasn't used, but it will all be worth it in the end.
First, he needed a plan. The tournament was for those with the potential to awaken, which suggested it wasn't just about physical prowess. There might be tests of mental insight, instinct, or something else entirely. He needed to know that he was ready to face anything and everything.
Without a clear understanding of what that meant, Nova decided to go back to the basics: strength, speed, endurance, and mental clarity. He'd study later, as he'd told Talia, to understand how this mortal realm worked, how the guild worked, and whatever governed over the world and the tournament alike.
He started with the basics. The most fundamental exercises used in calisthenics and just basic body building and strength building. Push-ups. He dropped to the floor, the kittens sleeping in their cardboard box. His palms were pressing into the cool wood, and he began.
One… two… he thought as he went up and down, pushing his body, even though it couldn't. …ten… by the tenth rep, his arms were trembling, his body feeling like it was about to give up, but he didn't. He needed to improve his willpower as well, so he pushed forth. …twenty… as he hit his twentieth rep, his entire body collapsed on the floor. His arms were unable to move. Chest packed. His breathing was abnormal.
"Pathetic," he muttered, but there was no self-pity in his voice.
He rested for thirty seconds, then went again, this time managing twenty-two before his arms gave out.
Next, after another minute of break, there were squats. He didn't want to do squats, as he was so tired. But he pushed himself to get up, as his body trembled, his core aching like when you do crunches, but have so much gas that when you try to get up, your entire stomach gets paralyzed.
After he got up, barely. He knew that his legs would be much stronger than his arms, not by much, since they weren't trained, but enough not to hurt as much as push-ups. He powered through three sets of fifteen, his thighs burning by the end. Sit-ups followed the lunges, each exercise a small ink uniting his canvas.
He moved methodically, focusing on his form, breathing deeply to keep his mind sharp. The kittens occasionally woke, one of them, a tiny black one with white paws, peeking over the box's edge to watch him with curious eyes.
By the time he finished his first circuit, sweat dripped from his temple, and his muscles ached with a satisfying kind of pain. He glanced at the clock, which was placed just above the door: 7:30 AM. He had been at it for about an hour. Nine more to go, if he was serious about his goal. But he wasn't foolish enough to push his body to breaking point on the first day. He'd slowly build up to it.
Nova crossed to the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water, and sipped it slowly. The food Talia had brought last night was still in the fridge, and he pulled out some leftovers, rice, and chicken to fuel himself. As he ate, he began to map out the day. Mornings would be for physical training: strength and conditioning. Afternoons would focus on agility and reaction time, and Evenings, he'd dedicate to studying, since he didn't have a phone or a computer. Talia mentioned a library nearby. So, he would do it the old-fashioned way.
For now, he needed to keep moving. He remembered a park he'd passed on his way to the apartment, a small, open space with a running path and some benches. Perfect for sprints and bodyweight exercises. Then, as he finished his food, he checked up on the kittens, ensuring that their water bowl was full and that they were tucked in nicely in the cardboard box, and they were.
So, he grabbed a leather jacket and headed out. A gift from Talia.
As he stepped out, going towards the early morning sunlight, his crimson eyes and hair reflected the shining beauty of the sun. No one had questioned him, why he had crimson eyes or hair. They just couldn't give a shit, as this was very natural, especially since the dungeons allowed you to do all sorts of stuff.
The air outside was crisp, soft, and cold breezes were hitting his face, indicating that summer was finally coming to an end. The park was a ten-minute walk, and Nova used the time to observe his surroundings. The city was already radiating with life: cars honking through traffic, people hurrying to work, street vendors calling out. Cheating couples were going to their homes. Everything was in place.
Though it was chaotic and felt utterly alien to him. Feeling like an outsider, but that only sharpened his focus. He adapted to his surroundings; he had to. This was just the first burden of carving his life on the canvas he desired.
At the park, he found the running path, a loop that stretched about a quarter-mile. He started with a slow job to warm up, his sneakers pounding the pavement in a steady rhythm. His breathing synced with his steps, and he left his mind clear, focusing only on the motion. After two loops, he transitioned to sprints, pushing himself to run as fast as he could for thirty seconds, then walking for a minute to recover. He repeated this cycle ten times, his lungs burning like a volcano, and his legs protesting by the end.
As he caught his breath, he noticed a group of kids playing nearby, chasing each other in what looked like a game of tag. Their movements were irregular, unpredictable, and Nova watched them closely. Agility, he thought. That's what I need. He decided to incorporate something similar into his routine. He set up an imaginary obstacle course, using trees and benches as markers, and began weaving through them, dodging left and right, jumping over low branches. It was clumsy at first; his body wasn't used to such quick changes in direction, but he kept trying, over and over again, refining his movements with each pass.
By the time he finished, the sun was higher, and his shirt was soaked with sweat. He checked his watch: 10:15 AM. Nearly three hours of training, and he was already feeling the strain. But there was no room for half-measures. He sat on a bench, sipping water from a bottle Talia had bought, and watched the park transition from an empty wasteland to a lively city.
Then, after a good long break, he got up, heading to the apartment. There he would rest some more, eat, play with the kittens, and then head to the library to study anything and everything.