The heavy steel doors of the chamber slammed shut with a thunderous echo. Inside, silence reigned—until the weight of the void pressed down.
The moment Rudra stepped into the artificial environment, his knees buckled. His bones groaned, his muscles screamed, and his lungs felt as though they were being crushed from every direction. Ten times Earth's gravity bore down on him, merciless and absolute.
Sweat erupted across his forehead instantly, his body trembling under the invisible weight.
"Hhh—haaah…!" He gasped, his chest heaving. His arms and legs shook violently, straining against the crushing force.
It wasn't just weight—it was like the universe itself was trying to grind him into dust.
---
Rudra clenched his fists and forced ki to flow through his body. His aura flickered weakly at first, then flared brighter as he poured everything into resisting the pressure. Muscles hardened, his frame expanded with spiritual energy, and for a moment, he managed to stand upright.
"Tch… no wonder Saiyans adapt so fast… their bodies are naturally built for this. But me… a human? This is insane!"
He tried to take a step forward. His foot moved an inch—then slammed to the ground with a painful crack. His body screamed in protest.
Two minutes. That was all he lasted.
His vision blurred, and he collapsed to the cold floor, gasping for air. The crushing void seemed to laugh at his weakness.
---
When Rudra finally awoke, he was in his bed outside the White Space. His entire body throbbed with pain, muscles swollen and bruised as though he had been trampled by mountains. For five days, he could barely move. Even lifting a cup of water sent shocks of agony through his arms.
Every breath was fire. Every heartbeat was thunder.
"Damn it… if this continues, I'll be useless before I even begin."
But on the sixth day, still aching, he dragged himself back to the chamber. His steps were slow, but his spirit was unbroken.
The crushing weight slammed into him again, merciless as ever. He roared in defiance, flooding his veins with ki, his aura blazing.
This time, he held on for four minutes. Progress, but still pathetic.
---
Yet the worst was not the gravity. It was the chamber itself.
Unlike the outside world, its temperature never stayed stable. One moment it was freezing cold, the next a sweltering furnace. The swings ravaged Rudra's body. His immune system faltered. His skin grew pale, his joints ached, and a burning fever consumed him.
Within a month, he could last ten minutes under gravity—but his body was breaking. Shivering and sweating, he lay in bed, delirious, unable to even rise. His forehead burned, his vision doubled.
"If I don't recover soon… I won't die from gravity. I'll die from sickness."
The thought haunted him. He had two Senzu Beans. But he refused to waste them. Not yet.
---
As his fever raged, Rudra's mind wandered. He remembered passages from the Vedas he had studied in his first life. A verse about the body's cleansing, about yoga that purged toxins and balanced the soul.
A faint smile broke his lips. "Of course… yoga. Breath and posture. If toxins are poisoning me… I'll burn them out the old way."
Forcing his trembling body upright, he sat cross-legged on the bed. His breaths came shallow at first, then deeper, steadier. He closed his eyes, forming the ancient posture.
He focused on the flow of energy—breath in, toxins out. Breath in, soul steady.
---
For a full day, he maintained the posture. His fever peaked. Pain wracked his frame. Then, without warning—his body convulsed.
He coughed violently, vomiting blood onto the floor. Red streamed from his nose, his ears, even his eyes. It was terrifying—yet strangely liberating.
His aura flared faintly as if his body had finally purged the poison within. The fever broke.
He wiped the blood from his mouth and laughed weakly.
"Incredible… my sickness is gone. Just like the Vedas said."
Exhausted, but renewed, Rudra stood. His steps no longer wavered.
--
With new determination, he entered the chamber again. The crushing weight descended, yet this time he didn't collapse immediately. His ki flowed smoother, his body lighter, his mind calmer.
Two minutes passed. Five. Ten. Fifteen. His body trembled violently, sweat pouring off his skin—but he was still standing.
At twenty minutes, his knees finally buckled. He collapsed, panting, but alive.
"Finally… I've adapted."
--
The next four months were agony. The chamber's shifting temperatures continued to ravage him, but every time illness threatened, Rudra returned to his yoga, cleansing his body through breath and blood.
Slowly, his muscles hardened. His bones adapted. His organs grew resistant. Where once the void had nearly killed him, now he moved within it as though it were his natural environment.
Every toxin, every weakness was burned away. His blood flowed like fire, his spirit steady as the earth.
---
At the dawn of the fifth month, Rudra stood inside the chamber. His aura blazed crimson around him, his ki resonating in perfect harmony with his body.
The gravity still pressed hard—but it no longer crushed him. Instead, it felt like a challenge waiting to be conquered.
He smirked.
"Five months of hell… but now, at last… I can begin real training."