The Eternal Coliseum had no roof, only a transparent dome of reinforced glass that shimmered against the twin suns above. A hundred thousand fans filled the tiers, banners rippling, chants echoing like war drums across galaxies. Holo-screens the size of skyscrapers floated in the air, magnifying every movement, every bead of sweat, every flicker of aura.
Dante sat on the bench in his substitute jacket, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. The red lightning that normally curled around his skin was silent now, hidden beneath his calm exterior. His pulse, however, drummed like thunder.
This wasn’t just another friendly. This was the first match of the Galactic League Season, where Eternal Era’s senior team would face the Stellar Titans—a squad notorious for their physical dominance and relentless tempo.
Jason stood on the sidelines with arms folded, his sharp gaze fixed on the pitch. His headset hummed with data feeds from analysts, yet his mind wasn’t on numbers—it was on patterns, rhythms, weaknesses hidden in the storm.
"Remember," Jason’s voice carried through the comm-link into every Eternal Era player’s ear, "our strength is unity. Hold your shape, cover your zones, don’t bite at their feints. The Titans feed on chaos—don’t give them any."
From the first kick, it was war. The Stellar Titans’ midfield trio pressed like a hydraulic press, suffocating every Eternal Era touch. Their captain, Kronstadt, a towering midfielder with the Titan Name Iron Breaker, thundered forward. His aura flared with earth-element energy, each step cracking the turf beneath him.
Lionel, Eternal Era’s defensive pillar, moved to intercept. His Titan Name Stronghold lived up to its reputation as he planted himself between Kronstadt and the goal.
The collision echoed like metal striking stone. Kronstadt’s knee feinted left, then right, his shoulders weaving with deceptive grace. Lionel’s eyes blazed; his cosmic awareness sharpened. His foot stabbed out, cutting the ball clean.
The crowd roared, but Kronstadt only smirked. "Not bad, Stronghold. But let’s see how long you last."
Scarlet, Eternal Era’s red-haired winger, surged down the left flank with lightning-quick strides, her aura burning crimson. She snapped a pass to Anastasia Lockwood—Autumn Leaf
Anastasia’s movement was poetry. With a twist of her waist, she evaded her marker, her aura flowing like falling leaves caught in the wind. She slipped past another defender, then lofted a cross into the box.
Grim, Eternal Era’s captain and goalkeeper, clenched his fists from the backline. His sharp voice cut through the noise: "Stay compact! Track back! Don’t let them counter!" Google seaʀᴄh Novᴇl_Fire(.)net
But the Titans were ready. Their right-back lunged, chesting the ball down mid-air before launching it across the pitch with the precision of artillery fire. The counterattack was instantaneous—two passes, one flick, and suddenly a Stellar Titans striker was one-on-one with Grim.
The stadium held its breath.
Grim’s aura ignited, a spectral shadow wrapping around him like a cloak. His Titan Name Gravekeeper manifested—the ability to "bury" energy, nullifying momentum. The striker blasted the ball with enough force to rattle the stands, but Grim raised one palm. The aura dissolved into nothing, the shot reduced to dust.
The crowd exploded, chanting his name.
Dante leaned forward on the bench, eyes gleaming. So that’s the famed Gravekeeper aura... monstrous. But even monsters can fall.
Jason’s jaw tightened. Eternal Era were holding, but barely. The Stellar Titans were dictating rhythm, dragging the team into physical duels they could not sustain for ninety minutes.
He tapped his comm. "Scarlet, stop chasing their left-back. Stay higher, force him to hesitate. Lionel, don’t bite—delay Kronstadt, let Grim handle the danger. Anastasia... switch wings every five minutes. Break their marking rhythm."
His mind spun through scenarios like a grandmaster of chess. Yet, in the corner of his thoughts, one wildcard glimmered—Dante.
He’s too raw. Too wild. But... if this pace continues, we’ll need chaos to break their order.
Jason’s eyes shifted toward the bench where Dante sat, still and silent. For the briefest second, their gazes met. Dante smirked, as if reading Jason’s thoughts with his Cosmic Telepathy.
Don’t worry, old man. Just say the word.
Jason snapped his gaze back to the pitch. He hated how easily the boy could pierce his thoughts.
Thirty minutes in, the score remained 0-0. Eternal Era had flashes of brilliance—Anastasia dribbling past two defenders to draw a foul, Scarlet nearly curling a shot inside the top corner—but the Titans never lost their grip.
Lionel wiped sweat from his brow. His muscles screamed, his aura flickered. Kronstadt never relented, hammering him again and again.
From the bench, Dante clenched his fists. Every tackle Lionel made, every save Grim pulled off, stoked the fire in his chest. If I were out there... I’d tear through them. Their defense is strong, but not unbreakable. They’re linear. Predictable. Just waiting for me to carve a hole.
But he remained seated, waiting.
Jason barked another adjustment: "Patience! Hold the line! Don’t chase shadows!" His voice was firm, but inside he knew Eternal Era couldn’t keep absorbing forever.
The Titans had tested their defense. Soon, they’d unleash something devastating.
And Jason had to decide—stick to discipline, or prepare to throw in the boy with the storm in his veins.
The whistle for halftime echoed through the stadium. Both teams walked off, sweat-soaked and breathing hard. The scoreboard remained empty:
Eternal Era – 0Stellar Titans – 0
But anyone watching knew Eternal Era were the ones cracking under the pressure.
On the bench, Dante stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders, lightning flickering faintly in his veins. He looked at Jason with a grin sharp enough to cut steel.
Jason said nothing, but the thought weighed heavy in his mind. Do I unleash him now... or wait until the storm is unavoidable?