The first rays of Martian morning crept over the horizon, turning the dome's surface into a sheet of warm red glass. Titan's Reach stood outside their residence complex, duffel bags slung over shoulders, jackets pulled tight against the cool breeze. Today wasn't just another travel day. Today marked the beginning of their final climb.

The Finals.

And for the first time since the tournament began, every single one of them felt the weight of it settle into their bones.

Blaze stepped out last, locking the door behind him. The team waited near the transport docks, their chatter low and tired but sharp enough to reveal the truth nerves, excitement, and something close to dread humming beneath every heartbeat.

Scarlett stretched her arms overhead. "Feels like I haven't slept in a week."

"You haven't," Aya said, sipping from a steaming mug. "I watched you pace the hallway last night. You stepped on my foot twice."

Scarlett waved a hand. "Tournament jitters. Finals buzz. Pick one."

Lionel zipped his jacket, looking oddly serious. "Jason's quiet today. That's a bad sign."

Jason stood near the shuttle with his arms crossed, eyes scanning data streams flickering across his wristband. He didn't react to Lionel's comment, which only made Lionel gulp.

Blaze slung his bag across his shoulder and walked toward them. Anastasia came up behind him, med kit in hand as always.

Scarlett grinned when she spotted him. "There he is. The walking space heater."

Aya elbowed her. "He's literally the only reason we made it this far."

"Yes, and my eyebrows thank him," Scarlett replied lightly.

Blaze chuckled. "You're welcome. I guess."

But behind the teasing, he saw what they were hiding. The same thing he felt.

This wasn't like the semis. This wasn't excitement buzzing in the air. It was sharper. Heavier. Almost electric.

The Finals weren't just a match.

They were judgment day.

Departure from Veridion

The shuttle that would take them to the Finals Venue - Helion Prime Stadium, waited on the platform like a predatory bird of matte black steel. It hummed with quiet power, its engines glowing blue.

Jason did a brief roll call, nodded once, and signaled them aboard.

Inside, the lights dimmed to a soft amber. Spacious seats lined the cabin, and holographic screens flickered to life with stats, replays, projections, and media commentary.

Scarlett instantly poked at one. "Let's see what people are saying about us."

Aya groaned. "Don't. They always make me mad."

Scarlett ignored her and tapped the feed. Streams of headlines filled the air.

> Titan's Reach Surges Into Finals.

Thanks to Blaze Titan's Meteoric Performance

> But Can They Handle the Rift Strikers?

> This Final Might Be the Most Dangerous Match in Cup History

Jason switched off the display with a single command. "Enough. Save energy."

Scarlett opened her mouth to protest, then thought better of it.

The shuttle lifted, engines humming smoothly. Blaze watched the dome shrink beneath them, the training field fading into a patch of shimmering red. Memories from yesterday, laughter, exhaustion, heat, flickered across his mind.

He hoped that same energy carried them forward today.

As the shuttle pierced the upper atmosphere, Anastasia leaned toward him. "How's the fire?"

He inhaled slowly. "Steady. For now."

She eyed him with a softness that warmed him more than the flame ever could. "Tell me if that changes."

"I will," he promised.

She seemed satisfied with that.

But even as he said it, he felt the Aura Flame pulse once, sharp and restless, like it sensed what was coming.

Arrival at Helion Prime Stadium

Two hours later, the shuttle descended through clouds of gold dust and touched down on a sleek landing pad. Helion Prime rose ahead of them, a colossal stadium carved into the surface of Mars like a fortress. Its roof sparkled with enormous solar mirrors, and its outer hull glowed with aura-reactive panels shaped like swirling galaxies.

Scarlett whistled. "This place is huge."

Lionel let out a low breath. "This is bigger than anything we've ever played in."

Aya stretched her neck, eyes tracing the towering walls. "Feels like walking into history."

Jason motioned them forward. "Move. They're already inside."

Blaze frowned. "Who?"

Jason didn't answer. He didn't have to.

The moment they walked through the entrance tunnel, a wave of energy swept over them, sharp, cold, razor precise. It wasn't hostile, but it wasn't friendly either.

It was dominance.

A group of players walked across the hallway, each wearing black and violet kits marked with symbols resembling shattered dimensions.

Scarlett whispered, "Oh damn."

Lionel stopped mid-step. "That's them…"

Aya exhaled slowly. "The Rift Strikers."

Their captain walked in the center, steps calm, posture perfect, aura contained behind a wall of iron discipline. His hair was silver-white, his eyes glowing a fractured blue, like cracks of ice spreading through a frozen lake.

Blaze recognized the name from every analyst panel.

Vayne Xylander. The Rift Striker captain. A prodigy, a cold genius, a player known for one terrifying thing:

Spatial bending.

He could distort short distances, shifting between positions in ways that made him look like he was phasing through air.

Their eyes met.

Vayne didn't slow down.

Didn't blink.

Didn't smile.

He simply studied Blaze the way a predator studies something new. Something interesting.

Lionel muttered, "I don't like how he looked at you."

Scarlett crossed her arms. "Relax. Half the universe looks at Blaze like that."

Aya added, "Not like that."

Jason stood with them as the Rift Strikers walked past. "Remember this feeling," he murmured. "Tonight, it will make sense."

Blaze kept his gaze locked on Vayne until the opposing captain turned the corner and disappeared from view. The air felt colder in his absence.

The Finals weren't coming.

They were already here.

Team Locker Room — Breakdown of the Strikers

The locker room assigned to Titan's Reach was spacious and brightly lit. The walls displayed holographic diagrams of the stadium, medical stations lined the corners, and the center table was filled with tactical boards.

Jason gathered them around.

"What you saw out there was just a fraction of what the Strikers can do," he began.

Scarlett raised a hand. "Coach, real talk… is their captain a ghost?"

"No," Jason replied. "Worse. He's efficient."

He tapped the holo-board.

A model of Vayne appeared, aura threads swirling around him like ribbons.

"Vayne Xylander. Spatial Manipulator. He can bend micro-distances. He doesn't teleport, he folds space in short bursts."

Blaze's brows furrowed. "So we can't track him?"

"You can track him," Jason said, looking straight at Blaze. "Just not with your eyes."

Aya's gaze flicked to Blaze. "Your telepathy."

Jason nodded. "Exactly. Vayne creates distortions when he folds small pockets of space. Blaze will sense those distortions before they happen."

Blaze said nothing. The flame inside him reacted to Vayne's name like a muscle tightening.

Jason went on.

"The Rift Strikers don't rely on speed the way Flash FC does. They rely on…"

The board changed.

New players appeared, each with their own aura signature.

"…precision," Jason continued. "Every movement is calculated. Every pass is coordinated. They play like a machine."

Scarlett frowned. "And we beat a lightning storm last round. We can handle a machine."

Jason shook his head. "Not if you play individually. The Strikers punish solo play. If one person breaks formation… the entire team collapses."

Aya exhaled slowly. "So we stick tighter. Move as one."

"Exactly. And that starts now. Training field. Ten minutes."

The Final Montage — Unity Drills

The training field attached to the stadium wasn't like Veridion's. It was massive, layered with aura-responsive turf that changed texture depending on pressure, force, direction, and energy. Every step left a faint shimmer behind.

Jason watched as they warmed up, analyzing their posture, their breathing, their rhythm. They were sharper today. More alert. But also on edge.

He clapped once. "Pair up. Time to sync."

Aya and Scarlett moved first, linking their aura fields. Their shapes glowed faintly before settling harmoniously. They moved in unison, passing through obstacle nodes that pulsed different colors.

Lionel trained with Jason, practicing interception patterns.

Blaze stood alone in the center, feeling the low hum of his flame vibrate under his skin.

Anastasia walked up to him, scanning his vitals. "You're warm, but nothing alarming."

"Good," Blaze said, inhaling slowly.

"You nervous?"

He hesitated. "A little."

"You should be. That's normal."

He looked at her. "You scared?"

Her eyes softened. "Of losing you? Yes."

That struck deeper than he expected.

Jason called Blaze over. "Time for Flame Compression."

Blaze nodded and moved to the center circle. The turf beneath him shifted to a heat-resistant composite.

The drill began.

Blaze inhaled.

The flame started to rise.

Jason's voice grounded him. "Compress. Don't ignite. Hold it."

The fire coiled inward, swirling around his core, tightening like a knot. Sweat rolled down Blaze's spine as he fought to keep the aura from flaring out.

Scarlett watched him with wide eyes. "Still freaky to see."

Aya added, "But if he masters that, he'll be unstoppable."

Blaze clenched his jaw.

The fire bucked violently, then snapped into place, compressed tight inside his chest.

Jason checked his readings. "Good. Again."

Blaze exhaled, repeated the motion, and this time it came quicker. Smoother. Controlled.

Anastasia couldn't hide her pride. "You're getting the hang of it."

Lionel joined them, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Only thing left is surviving tomorrow."

Scarlett shrugged. "No big deal. Just the strongest team in the galaxy."

Aya flicked her wrist. "We'll tear them apart."

Blaze didn't speak.

He was thinking about Vayne.

About those cold eyes.

About the way the captain's aura felt like a blade pressed against the back of his neck.

The Finals weren't just going to be difficult.

They were going to be dangerous.

Night Before the Finals — The Rooftop

Later that night, Blaze couldn't sleep. He walked up to the rooftop garden of the stadium complex, where the artificial air carried the faint scent of Martian cedar. The sky overhead shimmered with stars, and the arena lights cast a soft glow across his face.

He sat on the edge, hands resting on the railing, warmth radiating beneath his skin.

A quiet voice spoke behind him.

"You're going to overthink yourself into a meltdown."

He didn't need to turn around. "Hey, Ana."

Anastasia walked over and stood beside him, arms folded. "You look like you're carrying the entire planet on your back."

He shrugged lightly. "We're facing the Rift Strikers. Can you blame me?"

She looked out at the horizon. "Everyone's scared. Even Jason. Even Aya. Even Scarlett, though she hides it better."

Blaze breathed out slowly. "Vayne feels… dangerous."

"He is," she said softly. "But so are you."

He turned toward her, surprised.

She met his eyes without hesitation. "You keep acting like you're some wild fire waiting to explode. But that's not who you are anymore. You're not losing control. You're choosing control."

The flame inside him pulsed warmly at her words.

Anastasia stepped closer. "I trust you. And the team does too. So trust yourself."

He swallowed, the tension in his chest loosening just a little. "I'll try."

She smirked. "Try harder."

For a moment, neither spoke. The silence was comfortable. Steady.

Then she nudged him with her shoulder. "Come on. Finals tomorrow. You need sleep."

Blaze stood, brushing the dust off his pants. "Yeah."

As they walked toward the stairwell, Blaze felt something new settling inside him.

Not fear.

Not doubt.

But resolve.

Morning of the Finals — The Tunnel

Hours later, they stood in the player tunnel.

The noise of the crowd thundered above them, a wild symphony of cheers, chants, and raw anticipation.

Scarlett bounced lightly on her toes. "Let's make history."

Aya touched her forehead to Blaze's. "Don't lose focus."

Lionel cracked his knuckles. "Every tackle counts today."

Jason looked at them, really looked and nodded once. "You're ready."

Blaze inhaled.

The Aura Flame wrapped around his heart.

Calm. Controlled. Waiting.

Across the tunnel, the Rift Strikers stepped in.

Vayne stood at their front.

His eyes met Blaze's again.

Cold.

Sharp.

Ready.

A voice boomed above them.

> "FINAL MATCH — TITAN'S REACH VS THE RIFT STRIKERS — FIRST HALF BEGINS NOW!"

The gates opened.

The light flooded in.

Titan's Reach walked forward.

And the stage for their greatest battle yet came alive.

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