It started again—just like before. The world was ending.
The sky tore open. A deep red light flooded everything. Out of nowhere, monstrous shadows
emerged. Titanoboas slithered across highways, sabertooths tore through screaming crowds,
and mammoths crushed buildings beneath their feet. Chaos. Screams. Blood. Fire.
And floating above it all... was him.
A glowing white silhouette in an empty white void, silently watching. No words, no
expression—just presence.
Then everything went black.
I jolted awake, gasping for breath. Sweat stuck to my back like a second skin. My eyes darted
around, heart pounding like a war drum.
"Again…" I whispered.
"I saw this dream the day I decided to change."
Today, I was going out with my parents to shop for the upcoming festival. It had been months
since we did anything like this. Four months, to be exact.
I slipped into my new olive green full-sleeve shirt and looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't flinch
this time. My belly had shrunk. My jawline was faint, but real. Something had changed.
Even my classmates noticed. One of them, a guy who usually never even looked at me, leaned
over and said:
"You actually look good in that outfit."
I didn't reply. But inside… something stirred. It felt warm.
It had been four months since I started working out.
I could now do 30+ pushups in a row, over 50 squats and sit-ups without pausing.
I still remembered the first time—how my arms gave out at 15, how my chest burned, how my
thighs locked up.
But now?
When I flexed my thighs or calves, they turned solid—muscle, not just mass.
The soreness was still there though. My hamstrings ached all day. Whether I was lying down,
sitting, walking, or using the toilet—it reminded me I was rebuilding something that had long
been abandoned.
I didn't run anymore.
Now I walked fast for an hour, every morning. My stamina wasn't good enough for full-on runs.
Not yet. But I still remembered that day when I tried to imitate Saitama and Sung Jin-Woo's
10km runs. I had collapsed in the middle of the road, heart thundering, throat dry, drenched in
sweat that left trails behind me on the pavement.
I hadn't forgotten that feeling—the feeling of pushing beyond the limits.
My parents noticed I had changed too.
My father had just returned from abroad after retirement. He didn't say much—but I caught him
watching me out of the corner of his eye every time I exercised. And once, just once, my mother
said:
"You're not the same boy anymore."
Even my height had changed—I had gone from 5'5" to 5'7". My weight dropped from 95 kg to 75
kg. My voice was getting deeper now too. Puberty had been late—but it came crashing in with
everything else.
Despite it all, my bad habits hadn't vanished:
I still stayed up till 4 AM, doomscrolling on my phone
Still ate random junk food and sugar
Still had zero idea about diet, protein, or sleep
My meals? Mostly rice and lentils, barely any meat or eggs
But something was about to change again.
One night, I sat scrolling through YouTube, just passing time.
And then I saw it.
A video titled:
"You're Not Eating Right: Here's What a Beginner's Diet Looks Like."
I clicked on it.
So this... is what I've been missing all along.
Maybe it's time to stop guessing.
Above me, somewhere beyond reach, the white silhouette reappeared.
This time, his voice echoed—not loud, not soft, just present.
> "You have changed the outer shell. But when will you start nourishing the fire within?"
"Do not ignore the vessel. Strength is more than repetition—it is balance, knowledge, and
discipline."
Then silence again. Just the void.
And I stared at that diet video like it was a forbidden scroll.
Maybe, just maybe...
this was the next step.