Chapter 62: Embers Between Stars
The crowd’s roar still echoed long after the final whistle, but on the pitch, everything had gone quiet.
Blaze stood in the center circle, breathing hard, sweat and blood streaking his jaw. The crimson lightning had faded from his body, leaving only faint burn marks crawling up his arms like ghostly veins.
Scarlet and Anastasia reached him first.
"Blaze!" Scarlet’s voice cracked. "You’re overheating again! You can’t keep pushing your channels like this."
He smirked, his eyes still flickering faint blue.
"Worth it."
Then his knees buckled.
Jason was already sprinting down the sideline before Blaze hit the ground. The coach’s heart skipped a beat as he caught him mid-fall, his hands trembling slightly from the residual shock pulsing through Blaze’s body.
"Stay with me, kid," Jason said, gripping his shoulder. "Don’t fade on me now."
Blaze tried to grin, but his words came out slurred.
"Did we... win?"
Jason’s jaw tightened. "We didn’t lose. That’s enough."
The medics rushed in, loading Blaze onto a hover-stretcher. His teammates surrounded him — Scarlet biting her lip, Lionel’s hands clenched tight, Anastasia’s expression cold but her eyes burning with worry.
As the stretcher floated away, the stadium lights dimmed, signaling the end of the match.The crowd’s cheers turned into murmurs — they had just witnessed something legendary, but something terrifying too.
Behind the Glass
High above the Dome, in the VIP box, Vladimir watched in silence hands clasped, eyes unreadable.
Behind him, one of his aides spoke nervously. "Sir, the system detected an anomaly in the boy’s energy pattern. That technique"
"I know," Vladimir interrupted softly. "Serpent Fang: Infinity Coil. His father’s move."
He stood, staring down at Blaze’s unconscious body as it disappeared through the tunnel.
"He shouldn’t know that art. It was buried with the man I destroyed."
His voice turned to a whisper, colder than the stars.
"Unless Jason taught him."
Steam filled the locker room as the players regrouped.The air was thick with exhaustion bandaged arms, bruised ribs, blood-soaked wraps. Every player sat in silence, lost in the gravity of what had just unfolded.
Lionel slammed his fist into a locker. "That thing Jun Woo used — that wasn’t human."
Jason didn’t look up. "It wasn’t."
Scarlet scoffed. "Then how’s it fair we keep playing against monsters with military-grade augmentations?"
Anastasia crossed her arms, her tone low and controlled.
"Because that’s the world we live in now.The line between athlete and weapon doesn’t exist anymore."
Jason finally stood, adjusting his headset off his neck. "Listen up."
Everyone turned to him. His expression was grim but focused.
"We held our own against a Division One–level team running on AI synchronization. You know what that means? It means you can hang with the best without losing your humanity."
He looked toward Blaze’s empty bench.
"And he just reminded them what real fire looks like."
A ripple of emotion spread through the team pride mixed with fear, exhaustion with awe.
Then, the door slid open.
Jason froze.
Mr. Vladimir stepped inside, flanked by two black-suited guards. His silver hair gleamed under the fluorescent lights, and his cold blue eyes scanned the room like a hunter evaluating prey.
"Impressive," Vladimir said softly. "You’ve trained them well, Jason. Almost as well as you trained him."
Jason’s jaw flexed. "This isn’t the time, Vlad."
"Oh, I think it is." He stepped closer, his polished boots echoing against the tile. "Your striker — that boy. His energy signature is identical to Dante Revas."
A silence fell so sharp it could cut glass.Lionel blinked. "Dante...? As in—?"
Jason shot him a glare. "Enough."
Vladimir smiled thinly.
"You should’ve erased him when you had the chance. Instead, you raised him. Trained him. Let him grow into the same flame that once burned me alive."
Jason took a step forward. "You shot him. A hundred years ago. Don’t act like you’re the victim."
Vladimir’s eyes darkened. "You think you know the truth? You saw the surface, Jason. You never understood what Dante Revas really was."
Jason’s hand clenched into a fist. "And you still don’t understand what he became."
The tension was suffocating. The players looked on silently as Jason and Vladimir stood inches apart, two relics of a forgotten war glaring across a century’s worth of betrayal.
Finally, Vladimir smirked and turned toward the door.
"Enjoy your temporary victory. The next match, the galaxy will see who truly deserves the name Eternal Era."
He paused before leaving.
"And when that boy burns himself out... don’t say I didn’t warn you."
The door hissed shut.
Jason’s composure cracked. He punched the wall hard enough to dent the metal.
Scarlet whispered, "Coach... what did he mean? About Blaze?"
Jason turned away, his voice low.
"He meant nothing. Forget it."
But the way his hands trembled said otherwise.
Hours later, Blaze lay unconscious in the med-bay. His body was covered in neural pads, soft blue light pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. His chest rose and fell slowly, each breath raspier than the last.
Anastasia sat beside him, head bowed, whispering under her breath.
"You reckless idiot... why do you always have to go this far?"
Scarlet entered quietly, holding a fresh towel. "He’ll pull through. He always does."
Anastasia nodded, though her eyes glistened.
"That’s what scares me. He keeps surviving things no one should."
From the doorway, Jason watched silent, weary. The sight of Blaze lying there brought memories flooding back: another hospital bed, another face, centuries ago... Dante Revas, smiling through bloodied lips after a match that nearly killed him.
"Don’t look so grim, Jason," he’d said then. "Pain just means we’re still alive."
Jason closed his eyes. "You never learned to stop burning, did you?"
In a dimly lit bar on the outskirts of the city, a group of shadowy figures sat around a holographic table. The air reeked of old whiskey and smoke.
The leader a woman with short silver hair and a mechanical eye tapped her wristpad. A projection of Blaze appeared above the table, his lightning aura frozen mid-strike.
"Target confirmed. Eternal Era’s striker — codename Blaze. Real name unknown."
A rough voice grunted from across the table. "He’s strong. Maybe too strong."
She smirked.
"That’s why we’ll need help. Diego’s already in place."
Another hologram flickered to life — Diego, sitting on a rooftop under neon rain, his hood pulled low.
"Copy that. I’ll move when the time’s right."
The woman leaned forward. "We’re not here to kill him. Not yet. We just need to test the boy. See if the bloodline rumors are true."
She raised her glass.
"To the hunt."
They clinked their glasses, the sound echoing through the hollow room like a gunshot.
Later that night, Diego watched the city lights from the rooftop of his apartment. Below him, the holo-billboards replayed highlights of the match — Blaze’s goals, his final strike, the explosion of light.
The crowd chanted his name like he was a god.
Diego sighed.
"Kid doesn’t even know what’s coming for him."
He opened a small data capsule in his hand inside was an old photo. A younger Diego standing beside a man who looked strikingly like Blaze... only older, colder.
Dante Revas.
He pocketed the capsule, stood, and looked out toward the stadium in the distance.
"Jason, I hope you’re ready... because the next storm’s already here."
Back in the recovery bay, Blaze stirred.
His fingers twitched, eyes fluttering open just enough to see the faint reflection of his teammates asleep nearby. His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.
"I’m... still here?"
Jason’s voice came from the corner. "Yeah, you’re still here."
Blaze smiled weakly. "Then... I’m not done yet."
Jason leaned closer, eyes shadowed with both pride and fear.
"You will be if you keep pushing like that."
Blaze’s eyelids drooped. "Maybe. But if I stop burning... I’ll disappear."
Jason didn’t answer. He just sat there, watching the embers of the boy’s aura flicker softly in the dark — a fragile, beautiful defiance against the void.