I Devoured The Primordial Chaos to Become the Strongest

Jake stared at his mother’s corpse in silent disbelief. How had this happened?

One moment they were talking, laughing even, and the next, a beam of blazing power had reduced her to a headless husk.

How? How!? What is happening in Ashen outpost?

Ashen Outpost, where Jake’s family lived and his father ruled, was a small settlement surrounded by thick, blackened walls. Those walls had stood for years, shielding the poor and desperate from the monsters beyond. The people here were weak, refugees who had come east upon hearing that there was a place where the leader demanded no tax for protection.

Jake’s father was a Middle ranked Awakened, trained in the art of water-making. His skill was enough to provide the outpost with clean water and to keep him far from the politics of the Continent.

But now, that small peace had burned to ash.

☆☆▪︎▪︎☆☆

Earlier that morning...before anything happened.

"I’m tired of eating vegetables and water!" Jake snapped, glaring at the bowl in front of him.

His mother only smiled warmly and ruffled his messy black hair. "You should be grateful for what you have. You know your father and his hunters are working hard."

Jake snorted, stuffing a spoonful of boiled greens into his mouth. "They work, sure. But not hard enough."

His father was always too cautious, refusing to venture deep into the wastelands or explore higher-ranked Crypts. The low-tier hunts barely kept the outpost alive.

Jake’s brown eyes lifted to meet his mother’s gentle gaze. "Next week, when I turn twelve, I want to become a battle Awakened. I’ll learn real techniques, not water-making."

His mother frowned slightly. "You know your father prefers hunting with weapons, not Awakened skills. Besides, we don’t need that here. The walls keep monsters away, and we’re far from any Crypt eruption."

Jake rolled his eyes. He’d heard that speech a hundred times. Their outpost existed to survive, not fight. But Jake didn’t want survival, he wanted greatness.

He wanted to become a legend, an Awakened wanderer who would roam the apocalyptic world and slay beasts that made others tremble.

He glanced around the wooden dining room. It was large by the outpost’s standards, clean, dry, even comfortable. As the son of the leader, he had food, shelter, and clean water. He should have been grateful.

But all Jake felt was suffocating boredom.

He’d been four when the world fell into ruin. Every time he heard stories about the "Dark Times," his blood burned with excitement rather than fear.

Then guilt tugged at his heart. His mother was still smiling softly at him, her hand resting over her round stomach.

"At least get yourself some meat to eat," Jake said, grinning faintly. "For my little sister."

Her eyes brightened. "The healer says she’s doing well."

Jake smiled. The thought of a baby sister thrilled him. Someone to protect. Someone to look up to him when he became a hero.

A sudden thought struck him, he had to get stronger. He had to protect his mother and his sister. His gaze drifted toward his father’s room. Inside that room, he had once seen a sealed scroll inside a chest. He was certain it was a battle technique.

If he could learn it before his Awakening, he could start early.

He just needed to find the chance.

"Have you thought of a name for...."

An explosion cut his mother off. The entire mansion trembled, plates crashing to the floor as dust rained from the ceiling.

Jake was on his feet instantly. "What was that? Father?" he asked, though even as he said it, he knew the truth. His father was careful, disciplined and he would never cause such destruction.

His mother shook her head, frowning. "Certainly not your father. I haven’t heard anything like...."

A beam of molten fire, wide as Jake’s chest, tore through the wall like paper.

It vaporized everything in its path, Including his mother’s head.

In the blink of an eye, an heartbeat, his mother’s head was gone.

Blood, brain, and fragments of bone splattered the floor as her headless body toppled with a dull thud.

Jake froze. The world vanished into ringing silence.

He stared. And stared.

Even as heat washed over him and the curtains burst into flames, his body refused to move.

’This can’t be real. This has to be a dream. A cruel joke. No! No!’ His mind screamed at him.

He stumbled forward, falling to his knees beside the twitching corpse. He pressed his trembling hands against her chest. Nothing. No heartbeat. No breath.

The numbness shattered. Pain slammed into him, ripping a scream from his lungs.

"Mum! MUM!"

He pulled her limp body close, sobbing until his throat felt raw.

"Dad! Where are you?! You should have been protecting her!" he screamed, then laughed bitterly through the tears. "What would you have done? Pour water on her attacker?"

Then came another thought, clear and sharp through the haze, someone must had fired that blast, someone with powers, an Awakened!

There were no battle Awakened in their outpost and that meant only one thing...!

Raiders.

"But why?" he shouted into the crackling flames. "We have nothing worth taking!"

The heat intensified. Smoke filled his lungs. A portion of the roof collapsed, forcing Jake to his feet.

"I have to find Father... he’ll know what to do... he’ll fix this," Jake muttered, half-crazed, staggering toward his father’s room.

He shoved open the burning door. The flames were spreading fast, licking at the ceiling beams. He coughed violently, eyes watering, and spotted the chest. With a grunt, he dragged it out, throwing it open.

Inside, the scroll.

His father’s secret technique.

Jake snatched it, clutching it to his chest.

Then the wall collapsed behind him, sealing his escape.

For a moment, he just laughed, a hollow, broken sound drowned by the roar of fire. His mother was dead. His father was probably gone. And now, it was his turn.

He looked at the scroll.

All he had ever wanted was power, to protect his own, to make a difference.

And now, everything had been taken from him.

"If power is what it takes to stop this world from taking more..." Jake whispered, eyes blazing through the smoke, "...then I’ll take it back."

But there would be no chance. The fire devoured the room, the air turning molten in his lungs and before long he was sure he would be dead as well.

In that final moment, perhaps madness, perhaps instinct....Jake did the only thing he could.

He tore open the scroll and shoved it into his mouth.

If he was going to die, he would die with the illusion of power in his veins.

He chewed.

And the world turned upside down.