Chapter 8: Cracks in the Shell
Adrian had never been good with routines. He was the kind of guy who skipped breakfast, forgot deadlines, and crammed for exams the night before. But cultivation didn't care about habits. It demanded discipline, and discipline was something he had to learn the hard way.
The rooftop had become his sanctuary. Every night, he climbed the rusted ladder, past peeling paint and broken windows, until he reached the top of the building. From there, Quezon City stretched out in neon and smog, a restless beast that never slept. It was the perfect place to disappear, to breathe, to fight against himself.
He sat cross-legged, the jade pendant resting against his chest. Its glow was faint, steady, like a heartbeat that wasn't his. He closed his eyes and began the Jade Breathing Method. Inhale. Circulate. Exhale. Simple words, but each cycle felt like dragging fire through his veins.
Pain was constant now. His muscles screamed, his chest tightened, his head throbbed. Sometimes he thought he'd break apart, that his body wasn't built for this. But he kept going. Because every time he pushed past the pain, something shifted. Something inside him cracked open, just a little.
Tonight was different. He could feel it the moment he started. The Qi didn't just burn—it flowed. Rough, uneven, but flowing nonetheless. His body resisted, but he forced it through, guiding it along paths he barely understood. His grandfather's voice echoed in his memory: "Meridians are rivers. Clear them, and the world will flow through you."
Adrian gritted his teeth. He imagined rivers inside him, clogged with debris, blocked by years of ordinary living. He pushed the Qi harder, forcing it through. The pain was unbearable. His vision blurred, his breath came ragged, and blood filled his mouth. He coughed, crimson staining the rooftop floor.
For a moment, he thought he'd failed. That his body had rejected the path. That he'd die here, alone, chasing a dream that wasn't meant for him.
But then the pendant flared.
Emerald light bathed him, warm and steady. The Qi surged, not violently this time, but with purpose. It flowed through him like water breaking a dam, clearing the blockages, opening the rivers. His body trembled, his mind screamed, but the energy kept moving, unstoppable.
Adrian gasped, clutching the pendant. His veins burned, but beneath the pain was something else clarity. His senses sharpened. He could hear the distant hum of traffic, the rustle of leaves blocks away, even the faint rhythm of footsteps on the street below. The world wasn't just noise anymore. It was alive. Connected.
He opened his eyes, and the city looked different. Colors were sharper, edges clearer. The night air carried scents he'd never noticed—the tang of gasoline, the sweetness of street food, the faint metallic bite of rain on concrete. It was overwhelming, but exhilarating.
He laughed, breathless and hoarse. "I did it," he whispered. "I actually did it."
The rooftop felt like a battlefield, his body the casualty, but he had won. He had opened his first meridian. It wasn't perfect—his body still ached, his chest still throbbed—but it was progress. Real progress.
He lay back, staring at the stars hidden behind smog. For the first time, he felt like he belonged to something bigger. The pain hadn't broken him. It had reshaped him.
But the victory was bittersweet. He knew this was only the beginning. One meridian opened meant dozens more to go. Each one would be harder, more dangerous. And the shadows hunting him wouldn't wait for him to finish.
Still, Adrian smiled. He had cracked the shell. He wasn't just a man fumbling in the dark anymore. He was a cultivator, however fledgling. And that meant he had a chance.
He closed his eyes, exhaustion pulling him under. The pendant pulsed against his chest, steady and reassuring. Tomorrow, the pain would return. Tomorrow, the fight would continue. But tonight, he allowed himself a moment of triumph.
Adrian Reyes, he's no longer normal, had taken his first true step into the extraordinary.