Addicting Feeling

The shrill ring of an old, second-hand alarm clock cut through the early morning silence. In the dim light filtering through the cracks in the blinds, Johan's silhouette sat up abruptly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

'Another day, another silver coin,' he thought, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. His feet touched the cold floor and he stood, stretching his aching muscles.

The day began in earnest then. A rigorous set of push-ups, sit-ups, planche, handstand push-ups and squats to strengthen his body. Then, moving onto mental exercises, he tried focusing his energy towards the mysterious card lying on the small table. The card didn't react or change, but he didn't give up. 'Patience,' he reminded himself, 'Rome wasn't built in a day.'

His morning routine was abruptly cut short by the sharp chime of the clock. "Time to work," he mumbled, pulling on his worn-out guard uniform. He downed a quick breakfast, kissed his still-sleeping brother's forehead, and slipped out of their small apartment.

Work was a whirlwind. His first job was at the bank, a position he had acquired due to his strong physique. He spent the day dealing with long lines of customers, guarding the entrance, and ensuring security. 'One silver down, two to go,' he thought, leaving the bank as the sun began to dip below the horizon.

He didn't have time to catch his breath as he immediately transitioned to his next job, the night shift at a local mall. Here, he roamed the empty halls, a lonely figure under the harsh fluorescent lights. 'Another silver down.'

It was nearing dawn when he finally punched out and made his way to his last job - the vaults. A high-security area filled with impenetrable safes. The mere thought of the riches stored within made his head spin. But he knew better than to covet - he was here for the final silver.

When his shift ended, the sun was already up. He was tired, every muscle in his body screamed for rest, but his mind was alert, calculating, and planning for the day ahead. 'Three silvers earned,' he thought as he trudged home. 'One day closer to paying off the debt.'

His sleep-deprived eyes finally rested on the familiar door of their apartment. Pushing it open, he smiled faintly at the sight of Miles, already awake, and preparing for the day.

The sun had barely begun to touch the horizon when Johan emerged from their small apartment, a determined look on his face. He started with a brisk jog around their worn-out neighborhood, his breath puffing in the chilly morning air.

'Strength and stamina. Without those, the Card Master assessment might as well be a death sentence,' he reminded himself, pushing to run just a little faster, a little farther.

After the run, he transitioned to strength training. He used what he could find - old tires, bricks, even filled water bottles, anything to push his muscles beyond their limit. All the while, his mind focused on the card, trying to decipher the strange energy that pulsed from it.

'Must learn to control it... unlock its secrets,' his thoughts were a mantra, a rhythmic companion to his grueling exercises. As the sweat dripped off him, pooling onto the dusty ground, a grim satisfaction filled him. 'Every drop is another step towards the goal.'

Post-training, the day took a gentler turn. Back at the apartment, he took over the duties of preparing their meal, a simple fare of bread and soup. Miles, on the other hand, had his face buried in a textbook, the tip of his tongue peeking out in concentration.

"How's school, kiddo?" Johan asked, stirring the soup absentmindedly.

"Hmm..." Miles hummed, his brows furrowing as he scanned a page. "Good, I guess. Just a lot of work."

Johan chuckled, patting his brother's head. "That's good, work hard. I want you to have all the opportunities I never had. Don't let your part-time job disrupt you studies. If needed, you can just quit you part-time, I'll take care of the expenses so you can focus on your school."

Their meals were always simple, but filled with laughter and stories. Sometimes, they reminisced about their old life, about their mother and her warm smiles. At others, they dreamed of the future, of a life free from debts and struggles. Through it all, their bond only grew stronger, a beacon of hope in their bleak existence.

As night fell, and Johan tucked Miles into bed, he found himself whispering a promise into the quiet room, "I'll make sure you never have to live like this, Miles. You deserve the world, and I'll move heaven and earth to give it to you."

...

Johan's day was a medley of challenges, the most formidable among them - poverty. Every coin he earned was a hard-fought battle. But the spoils of this battle were meager, barely enough to sustain their life.

His clothes bore the brunt of time and poverty, a patchwork of worn-out fabric. The faded denim and loose threads were all too familiar, a constant reminder of their life on the edge. 'It's just clothing. Doesn't define me,' he'd reassure himself, pulling the frayed collar of his jacket closer.

The apartment was no better. The paint was peeling, the windows cracked, and the floor creaked ominously with every step. But it was theirs, a sanctuary in the chaos of their lives.

Food was a constant worry. Some days, they were lucky to have three meals, while on others, they had to make do with stale bread and water. Johan often found himself skipping meals, the hollow pit in his stomach a stark reminder of their reality. 'Twenty silvers won't last if we splurge,' he'd think, pushing away the half-eaten bread, 'Need to save up for the assessment.'

Despite it all, Johan held his head high. Every day was a step forward, a step towards their dreams. The exhaustion, the hunger, the struggles were all worth it. 'Progress. Every day, progress. The feeling of getting stronger is addicting.'

As the sun dipped beyond the horizon, painting the sky in hues of crimson and gold, Johan found himself sitting at their tiny window, staring at the descending darkness. His mind echoed with thoughts of the day - the struggles, the training, the laughs with Miles.