No me responsabilizo de los poderes utilizados por personajes creados por otros autores, en mi historia mi único personaje propio es el protagonista y el mundo el que se encuentra.
Los otros personajes mencionados hacen parte de sus respectivas franquicias.
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Kael was sitting on the edge of his bed. The dim light filtering through the window revealed his young face; a face that hinted at what he would become in the future, marked now by a suppressed frustration. His violet eyes, streaked with thin crimson lines, made him stand out.
At first, he thought it was going to be just another cliché—that his eyes were special. Who wouldn't want eyes that could destroy concepts, like Anos? But as he grew, he realized they were good for nothing more than earning compliments from the neighbor women, who would tell him he should marry their daughters.
His eyes were slightly sunken from lack of sleep, and the constant frown etched across his brow did not match the face of an eight-year-old child. His jet-black hair, messy and unruly, fell across his forehead. His body, lean yet firm, carried the weight of someone forced to bear more than his share.
His fists rested on his knees as he breathed heavily, trying to focus.
He inhaled deeply, his chest expanding, and then he felt it—the ambient ether. It was like an invisible river flowing around him, a vibrant current pulling at his senses. Kael opened the pores of his body, just as he had read in countless cultivation stories, and let it in. The ether descended into his veins, hot, powerful—yet the instant it touched his core, it slipped away, like sand running through his fingers.
Once. Twice. Three times. Always the same.
His face, once tense with concentration, now betrayed frustration, anger, helplessness. His lips twisted, his eyes welled with restrained tears, and he struck the bed with his fist.
"Damn it!"
Now, you might wonder why he reacted so violently. Well… being eight years old wasn't only about his height—it was also his mental age. Reincarnating with an adult's mind gave him an advantage, sure, but the emotional immaturity of a child still lingered. He lost his temper easily, though less so than other children. He knew it, but he couldn't help it.
Daren hadn't agreed to help him, not even when Kael lowered his pride to ask politely. Still, Kael refused to beg. His pride was too strong. That left only one path—the last shred of confidence he carried as a reincarnator: finding a legacy on his own.
And if he failed… he didn't want to think about that. If he couldn't succeed, he might as well stay in that small village forever.
Frustrated, he went to the main room and asked his father for permission to wander into the forest, under the pretext of gathering herbs or playing near the streams. His father, still hollowed out from Martha's death, barely looked up and gave a weak nod.
So Kael left.
The forest stretched before him like a green ocean. Towering trees blocked most of the sunlight, their thick trunks casting long shadows across the ground. The air was damp, heavy with the scent of moss and earth, and each step crunched against dry leaves. In his eight years, he had never seen a single beast in the area, but caution was always wise. He moved carefully, knife strapped to his belt—an improvised weapon of wood and cheap iron he had crafted himself.
Then, the ground shook with a deafening boom.
Up ahead, between the trees, came the roar of voices and the clash of overwhelming force. Kael crouched low and crept forward, and the sight stole his breath.
Two cultivators fought, and with each strike, the forest shattered as if entire houses were being torn apart. Four homes' worth of destruction in a single exchange.
"That bag is mine, you damn thief!" one roared, his fist engulfed in flames.
"We found it together, we were supposed to sell it together!" the other shouted, his body coated in hardened earth.
Kael's eyes widened. A bag. All this chaos… for a bag. They had stumbled upon the corpse of a cultivator and, judging by their words, found the sack among his belongings. It didn't seem useful to them—or so they thought. But greed always found its way.
The fire cultivator hurled a blazing wave that ignited half the grove. The earth cultivator raised a wall of stone twenty meters tall, trembling under the searing impact. Kael swallowed hard.
"That's just… the fourth rank of Ether Foundation? And they're destroying half the forest!"
His mind flashed back to the stories of his previous world, where low-ranked cultivators could barely move rocks or conjure a tiny flame. But this… this was something else entirely.
"Then… what about someone at rank nine?" he whispered, face pale.
His heart raced, pounding like a war drum. He hid in the underbrush, waiting for the two to kill each other. If he could seize that bag, maybe he'd find something of value.
The fire cultivator gathered a blazing sphere between his hands and hurled it like a burning sun. The earth cultivator planted his feet, his skin turning to living stone, and countered with a punch that split the ground into gaping cracks. The clash sent a shockwave tearing through trees, rocks, nests—everything in its path.
Kael clung to the ground, trembling, drenched in cold sweat. Still, he didn't retreat.
Blinded by greed, the two never noticed the child watching.
At last, after a brutal exchange, the fire cultivator drove his flaming arm through his opponent's chest. The earth cultivator collapsed, gasping, unconscious but alive. The fire cultivator barely stood upright, bleeding heavily, gasping for breath—until he fell as well, unconscious.
Kael knew this was his chance.
With shaking hands, he pulled out his portable knife and crept toward the fire cultivator. Pale, sweating, heart pounding. He was about to do something that would haunt him forever: kill a wounded man.
"If I hesitate now… I'll never have anything."
He raised the knife with trembling hands and drove it straight into the man's head.
But at that instant, the man's eyes snapped open. His body convulsed, and with a reflexive burst of strength, he hurled Kael through the air. The boy crashed through branches and trunks before hitting the ground hard, ribs and one arm snapping under the impact. The bag, however, rolled to rest beside him.
Pain consumed him. His vision blurred. Consciousness slipped away.
And then—the voice returned.
"Well, well. You almost died, little kamikaze," his subconscious chuckled, mocking yet scolding.
"That's… not funny…" Kael muttered weakly in his mind, spitting blood. He couldn't even move.
After their last confrontation, his subconscious wasn't as serious anymore. It claimed there was no point pretending to be all-knowing. In the end, they were one and the same—though it seemed to hold answers Kael himself didn't. Over time, he had given it a name: Blood. The crimson streaks in his violet eyes reminded him of it. He never asked why it looked the way it did… maybe he would, someday.
"Yes, it is. But don't worry. I'm you. And if you can't… then I'll take over."
—Omniscient POV—
Kael's body, as if guided by invisible threads, lifted his trembling hand toward the bag. His fingers clutched it and pressed it to his forehead.
Then it happened.
The surrounding ether, which had always ignored him, surged violently into his body. Not a river—an ocean overflowing, tearing everything apart. Trees ripped from the earth, stones crumbled into dust, the entire forest collapsing under the frenzied absorption.
Blood's voice turned robotic, cold, inhuman.
"Conditions met. Abyssal Omniversal Body commencing extraction."
In Kael's mind, an endless list unfolded: names, powers, legends, gods, monsters. And then, a selection.
"Entity chosen: Thor Odinson. UCM Universe."
At that instant, Kael's eyes flew open. No longer just red and violet, but filled with raging lightning. His body began to heal.
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
A primal roar burst from his throat. His body shuddered, then ignited with power. The pain vanished. His broken arm snapped back into place. His ribs knit together. His skin shimmered with an electric glow. And in the skies above, as if answering his awakening, thunder roared with divine fury.
Kael, now standing at the First Rank of Ether Foundation, gasped for breath as sparks of lightning danced across his skin. The ruined forest bore witness to his first true step on the path of power.