Blaze didn't sleep that night.

He tried. He lay there staring at the ceiling of his apartment, the dim blue reflection of Veridion City spilling through his blinds, humming like a quiet warning. His body was tired. His mind was not. Every time he shut his eyes, the Aurion Capital proposal flashed behind them. The stipend. The training facility. The biomechanics upgrades. The so called "performance adjustments".

And the clause he knew instantly was designed to own him.

He tried to tell himself this was a blessing. He tried to repeat it like a mantra.

He had always dreamed of becoming more than the street kid who clawed his way into the Titans roster. This was a chance to evolve. To keep the team competitive. To not be a liability while recovering.

But no matter how many times he recited that, one truth kept rising to the surface.

Something in that contract felt like a collar.

By morning, his head felt heavy, and his palms were cold. He dragged himself into Titans HQ anyway, masking everything under a neutral expression. The front lobby hummed like usual, screens replaying match highlights, fans waiting outside the gates, staff shuffling through morning routines.

But the moment Blaze stepped in, he felt something else.

Silence.

Not literal silence, but a subtle hush, the kind that creeps in when people sense something shifting. His injury had already unsettled everyone. But this was different. This was anticipation.

People felt a change coming. They just didn't know what it was.

Blaze did.

And he hated that he was the reason behind it.

Jason was waiting for him upstairs, blinds half closed, hands locked at the back of his neck. He looked like he hadn't slept either.

"Morning," Jason said, voice low.

Blaze nodded. "Morning."

"Sit."

Jason studied him for a moment, not with suspicion, but with that quiet, penetrating focus he used only when something mattered.

"You saw the details?"

Blaze swallowed once. "Yeah."

"And?"

There was no easy answer. He knew Jason would see through anything he sugarcoated, but he also knew telling the full truth might put everything at risk.

"It's… a lot," Blaze finally managed.

Jason raised a brow. "That's an understatement."

Blaze felt it, Jason's growing tension. Jason wasn't angry, he was worried.

"You're not telling me everything," Jason said gently.

Blaze looked away.

Jason stepped around the desk, leaning against it so they were at eye level. His voice softened. "Blaze, whatever they pitched, whatever you're thinking… you don't have to go through this alone."

For a moment, Blaze almost cracked. Almost said what he really felt. Almost handed Jason the contract and begged him to tell him what to do.

But he couldn't.

Not when the entire team was depending on him to stay strong.

He settled for a shallow version of the truth.

"They want me in their enhancement program," Blaze said. "And the financial support… would help everyone. Not just me."

Jason didn't blink. "At what cost?"

Blaze stayed silent.

That was enough.

Jason inhaled deeply, fighting to keep his tone steady. "You need to show me the full contract."

"I will."

He lied.

Jason lifted his chin slightly. "Blaze… are you hesitating because it's dangerous or because it's tempting?"

Blaze's throat tightened.

Jason never asked questions like that.

Jason never questioned Blaze at all.

That alone told him how serious this was.

"…Both," Blaze said quietly.

Jason exhaled slowly, rubbing his face. "I knew it. I knew something was off about that company. And now they're trying to get their claws into one of my players."

Blaze flinched at the word claws.

Jason didn't miss it.

"Blaze," Jason said, voice low and steady. "Whatever they dangled in front of you, it doesn't outweigh your health. Or your autonomy. Or this team."

Blaze looked up. "Yeah. I know."

But Jason sensed the waver under the words.

That microscopic tremble.

That hesitation Blaze never showed before.

And for the first time since taking over the Titans…

Jason realized he might lose him.

Training that afternoon felt different.

Even before Jason said anything, the players could feel the shift. Blaze wasn't on the field, and the absence hit harder than expected. Normally, he'd be there, hobbling, limping, analyzing, shouting instructions, refusing to act injured.

Today, he stayed in the analysis booth, quietly watching, silent and withdrawn.

The players kept glancing up at him.

Ari was the first to notice the difference. "He looks… off."

Lionel nodded. "Yeah. He's thinking too hard."

"Blaze thinking is normal," Scarlett said. "Blaze thinking silently is not."

They laughed lightly, but everyone knew what Scarlett meant.

Blaze was a fighter. A spark. A constant energy source. Whether he was shouting encouragement or complaining or trash talking, he filled the pitch with noise.

Seeing him sitting completely still felt wrong.

Jason walked onto the field to start drills, but even he kept glancing toward the booth.

"Alright," he called out. "Let's run the new pressure rotation."

Normally, Blaze would jump in with observations mid session. Today, he didn't react.

And the team felt it.

They pushed themselves harder, maybe too hard. Mistakes piled up. Passes went astray. Judgement calls slipped.

It wasn't that Blaze carried the team.

It was that Blaze was part of their rhythm.

And without him, the rhythm faltered.

Inside the analysis booth, Blaze scribbled notes, reviewed patterns, but his mind wasn't here.

He kept seeing the contract.

The obligations.

The ownership clause disguised behind "long term partnership".

The performance override line buried four pages deep.

He didn't notice Jason entering the booth until the door clicked shut.

Jason walked up beside him and looked over the scribbles.

"You're distracted," Jason said quietly.

Blaze tightened his grip on the pen. "…I'm fine."

"You're not. And I'm not going to pretend I don't see it."

Blaze stared at the field. The players were trying, struggling in small ways they shouldn't be. Because of him. Because their balance was off.

"Jason," Blaze murmured, "they're falling apart without me."

"Not falling apart," Jason said gently. "Adjusting. That's normal."

Blaze shook his head. "No. It's not fair to them."

Jason leaned against the desk, arms folded. "You being hurt is not your fault."

Blaze still didn't look at him.

Jason studied him quietly, then said something that made Blaze's chest tighten.

"I'll talk to the team tonight. They need clarity. And so do you."

"Jason..."

"Blaze," Jason cut in, "they deserve to know their teammate is being targeted by a corporation trying to buy his future. And you deserve support."

Blaze stiffened.

"They can't know," Blaze whispered. "Not yet."

Jason's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

Blaze didn't answer.

Jason stepped closer. "What did they offer you?"

Silence.

"…Blaze."

Still silence.

And that silence hurt more than any injury.

Jason looked down, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've known you long enough to tell when you're carrying something alone. And I hate it."

Blaze swallowed hard. "I'm not trying to shut you out."

"Then don't," Jason said softly.

Blaze finally whispered, "I don't want them to see me as a weak link."

Jason closed his eyes for a moment, then said, "You're the last person on this planet anyone would call a weak link."

A beat passed.

Jason straightened. "We're talking about this tonight. No negotiation."

Blaze knew that tone. The meeting was happening whether he liked it or not.

And that terrified him.

That evening, the team gathered in the main lounge, waiting for Jason's briefing. Blaze stayed in the corner, hood up, arms crossed.

Jason stepped forward, expression serious.

"Listen up," he started. "We're entering a new phase with Blaze's recovery. Something came up."

Every head turned.

Aya frowned. "Something bad?"

Jason hesitated a moment too long.

Anastasia's jaw tightened. "What happened?"

Blaze answered before Jason could. "I got a sponsorship offer."

The players blinked.

Scarlett raised a brow. "Okay… and?"

Jason stepped in. "The offer isn't what it looks like."

Blaze stared at the ground.

Aya's voice softened. "Blaze?"

"They want me in a 'performance enhancement program'," Blaze said flatly. "Something experimental."

Silence hit the room.

Jude crossed his arms. "And the problem?"

Jason's eyes darkened. "The problem is the contract is predatory. It demands long term medical access, override permissions during matches, biometric ownership..."

A collective flinch went around the room.

Blaze kept his head down.

Aya moved a little closer. "Blaze… you're not seriously considering it, right?"

Blaze didn't answer.

That silence cracked something fragile in the room.

Lionel exhaled slowly. "Bro… no. No. You're not going down that path."

Scarlett shook his head. "We can get through the season without you pushing your body past its limits. We've done it before."

Blaze's voice came out quiet but firm.

"I'm tired of being the weak spot."

A hush fell so thick it hurt.

Aya stepped forward, eyes burning. "You are NOT a weak spot."

Scarlett pointed toward the field. "The team functioned today because you were out there watching. It wasn't perfect, but we adjusted because of you."

Aya nodded. "We play like Titans because you built that mindset with us."

Blaze looked at them for the first time. His voice almost broke.

"And what happens when you don't need me anymore?"

That was it.

The real fear.

The real crack.

Jason closed his eyes, feeling the weight of it.

Ari walked up to Blaze and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You're our equal, not our tool."

Darius nodded. "We're a team. Not a corporation."

Jude crossed his arms. "You walk into that program and you're not Blaze anymore. You're theirs."

Blaze's chest tightened.

Jason stepped forward, voice calm but unwavering. "No one here wants you to trade your future for one season."

Blaze breathed in shakily.

Jude shook his head. "You don't need enhancements. You need time."

Ari added, "You need us."

The room went quiet after that.

But the crack in Blaze's resolve had finally broken.

He whispered, "I don't know what to do."

Jason walked up beside him, steady and firm.

"We do," he said. "And we'll help you."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.