Entering Apocalypse in Easy-Mode-Chapter 501: Tearing

Clyde felt the connection before he even closed his eyes. Likr a whisper in the back of his mind as if the Ancient One already knew what he wanted to do.

But he didn’t answer the call immediately.

"Shower first," he thought anxiously.

He stood from the bed and headed straight to the bathroom.

Few seconds later the cold water struck his skin like needles, sharp and grounding. Steam rose in ghostlike tendrils as he washed away the tension clinging to his body.

Minutes passed in silence before he stepped out, dried off, and dressed in a simple black shirt and trousers.

Then he returned to the bed and sat cross-legged straighten his spine with hands resting on his knees.

He took a slow breath and began concentrating.

Thin and swirling dark mist began to seep from his pores. It rose slowly, curling and pulsing as if around him. Then Clyde closed his eyes.

In the next breath, his consciousness slipped.

The world fell away in silence. And then he was back tho that other world.

The realm of black ash stretched out endlessly around him. The skyless void above. The crushed ash underfoot. He looked around and saw no change only stillness and the mist.

Then the mist before him stirred. It twisted and pulled together into a form—shapeless at first, then vaguely humanoid, but without a face, and detail.

The Ancient One arrived. This time, He did not wear Clyde’s face and form but juat black mist formed into a body.

"Are you ready?" came the deep, toneless, and resonant voice. No mouth moved, the words struck directly into Clyde’s spirit. He could also feel the weight of that eyeless gaze upon him.

"I’m ready," Clyde said, exhaling slowly. He braced himself.

Apparently, the Ancient One wasn’t one for long speeches this time.

"As I said... this will be painful."

The figure drifted closer, its black mist trailing behind like smoke through water.

Clyde tensed. But he didn’t flinch. He raised his chin, tighen his jaw and steady his eyes.

The Ancient One stopped before him.

Then, without warning, the dark mist erupted outward.

It surged around Clyde, spinning faster and faster, like a miniature storm wrapping him in absolute darkness.

And then it entered him.

First through his breath—into his lungs like acid vapor. Then through his mouth. His eyes. His ears. It enyered very orifice and every pore.

And with it came the pain.

Agony bloomed inside him instantly, like his nerves were being unraveled and rewired.

His body that once durable enough to survive Higher Being attacks buckled under the internal storm.

His spine arched. His fingers clawed into the ash beneath him.

This wasn’t like any wound or attacl he had endured in battle. This was deeper and worse.

His very structure was being deconstructed, molecule by molecule—only to be reforged into something else.

And the Ancient One did not stop there. Still long way to go until its finished.

Clyde’s throat constricted the instant the mist forced itself down, choking any scream to a ragged wheeze.

Inside that cocoon of darkness it felt as though unseen claws flayed him from the marrow outward, scraping bone, tearing muscle, and unravelling sinew strand by strand.

Each shred was peeled away while he remained awake, acutely aware of every fibre of his body parting. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

Then came the teeth. It was not literal fangs but a grinding pressure that chewed through his ribs, shattered them to splinters, and re-formed them a heartbeat later from glistening night-black crystal.

His blood boiled, vanished, and re-manifested as liquid shadow that flowed back through new-forged veins.

With the agony came his memory next.

He saw himself as the timid student again—head down in a grey hallway, shoulders hunched against muffled laughter and fists that never stopped coming from the bullies.

The nights spent staring at a cracked ceiling, wondering if tomorrow was worth the walk to class. Or even worth to wake up.

Then he remembered the half-written suicide note he burned before anyone could find it.

All of it surfaced, raw and bright, as if the Ancient One were stripping him to the very first layer of hopelessness he’d ever known.

Back then he was powerless... utterly powerless.

The thought sparked and the ritual responded. Each pulse of humiliation ignited a backlash of black lightning through his nerves, welding new strength over the old scars.

The pain did not ease. Instead, it escalated. But now it carried purpose, forging every fragment of despair into harder metal.

Outside of his own mind, the transformation was monstrous. Flesh split in line of seams, revealing lattices of onyx muscle that re-knit thicker and denser.

His spine lengthened, vertebrae clicking into a darker reinforced column his heart stopped, shattered, then restarted as a new thing thst looks like combination of shadow and black fire.

There was no blood left to spill. Only tar-black energy spilling like smoke, sucked back in with every laboured breath.

His lungs themselves dissolved and re-grew, branching into extra chambers to hold more of the Ancient One’s power.

Through it all he remained conscious, forced to witness the work and pain.

When the "claws" finished, the "teeth" began again—refining, polishing, and compressing every cell into something smaller, hotter, and deadlier.

Clyde didn’t know if it were seconds or ninutes. Time lost meaning.

At last the mist slowed its frenzy and coiling around the half-rebuilt body.

Clyde’s body hovered and twitching while still being scorched by invisible heat. But it already knitting smooth skin over black-veined muscle.

He couldn’t move. Every nerve glowed with pain. But he could think and in that terrible quiet he understood that the loneliness, the bullying, the emptiness of his life before were being soldered into armor.

Nothing those coming armies could do would feel worse than this.

A final surge flooded through him. It feels ice-cold and merciless. Then the mist snapped back, slamming into his core like a closing door.

"The first phase is done," Said the Ancient One.

---

On the bed in the mansion, Clyde’s physical form arched violently then went still, black vapour coiling around. Bones clicked as new strength settled into place. Faint cracks glowed beneath his skin before dimming.

---

Visit freewe𝑏nove(l).𝐜𝐨𝗺 for the 𝑏est n𝘰vel reading experience