The fourth ball of the over—Kirill stepped onto the popping crease and murmured, "Pitchless Mirage."
A slower delivery floated toward Ezekiel. He narrowed his gaze, readying himself for another shot. But just as it seemed the ball would rise off the pitch, it suddenly skimmed low, shooting straight toward the stumps beneath his bat.
Ezekiel clicked his tongue and brought his front foot down, blocking it just in time.
Kirill scooped up the ball again and walked back. He rubbed the ball against his sleeve as he drew a deep breath. The moment he lifted his head, his gaze sharpened. With a slight hop, he launched into his run-up.
Ezekiel narrowed his eyes, tapping his bat in steady rhythm.
As Kirill stepped onto the popping crease, he whispered again, "Shadow Cage. This time… no mistakes."
Adam, at the non-striker's end, heard it clearly. His eyes flicked from the ball to Ezekiel, tension crawling up his spine.
This time, Ezekiel felt it instantly. The ball was slow… but the confusion, and the strange delay from before was gone. Instead, he realized it—he was inside a cage.
A prison box, tight and suffocating. Not like Heber's room-like ability—this was a human-sized carton. Tight, cramped, suffocating, pressing around him, locking his limbs. He could barely move.
Ezekiel swallowed hard. If he didn't break through now, the ball would crash into the stumps and it would be over. Right before his very eyes.
A sudden impulse snapped inside him—Awan's temperament surging, shattering the invisible shackles in an instant. Ezekiel's eyes widened, he couldn't even process what was happening, his body lunged on its own as he regained full control and awareness mid-motion, forcing his bat down to meet the ball. He managed to tap the ball—barely.
Kirill froze mid-step, stunned, blinking as if the moment had betrayed him.
But the ball, grazed by swing at the exact point of contact, didn't fly away.
Instead, it twisted sharply—redirected straight into the stumps, threading itself perfectly between Ezekiel's feet. The moment had betrayed Ezekiel instead.
A blink. A single beat. Then the wicket lit up red, the bails scattering across the ground.
And then the world exploded.
A roar on the field. A roar in the stands.
A roar even inside the commentators' box.
"WHOA!!" the crowd thundered in unison while the commentators nearly shouted over one another— "What a wicket! What incredible deception! Kirill's variation, that late swing—absolutely unbelievable! Ezekiel Vincente had no chance there, none at all!"
"Multan Sultans strike early—and they strike hard! Karachi Kings loses their first wicket as Ezekiel Vincente departs, 9 for 8…"
"Haha! He did it!" Daniil pumped his fists, pride blazing, while Mark cheered in delight alongside the rest of the middle schoolers.
"Man, that was badass," Pierre remarked.
"That crazy swing… mind-boggling." "Not at all bad," Raza added with a nod. In contrast, Karachi's pavilion was silent.
The coaches—Seles, Nidou, Yusuf, and Pedro—were all jotting down points while calmly discussing the recent wicket.
Alan exhaled, his red gaze fixed on Ezekiel on the pitch with almost empathetic intensity.
"The swing… what fantastic control on the ball," Elias remarked.
"Tch, I had a feeling, and it turned out I was right," Orion muttered, rubbing the back of his head, slightly annoyed.
The middle schoolers exchanged silent, introspective glances.
Just then, Haruf, ready to lead as the third batsman, stood up with a smile. "It's alright. Don't be so tense," he assured them in his usual casual tone. "The pressure of the powerplay can crumble even the best players. Meanwhile, our youngsters are still rolling."
He picked up his bat and turned to Rauf, "So, as their seniors, should we push them a little ahead? What do you think, boss?"
Rauf smirked, his slicing sapphire gaze glinting. "A little push won't do. Push them as hard as you can. After all, these snakes have yet to shed their rough skins."
Kenzo, seemingly offended, glared daggers at him, gritting his teeth.
Helios, Xavier, and Gabriel wore cold, dismissive looks.
Haruf, however, simply nodded with a smile.
"Ah… even his smile annoys me now," Ryan muttered, twitching slightly.
Seles, hearing him, couldn't help but chuckle as he turned to face the middle schoolers, "Looks like you didn't get the point… or did you?"
"Yeah, we got it loud and clear. We're venomless snakes, Coach Seles," Azazel rolled his eyes.
Isa and Evan exhaled in exasperation. Seles shook his head, smiling as he clarified, "You're not venomless snakes—just young ones. Young snakes You see, can't see clearly when they hunt; their vision sharpens only after they shed their skin through stages of growth. It's the same for you. To shed your skins, you need the right environment—and this pitch, along with the confidence to face it, is exactly that. That's what Rauf meant."
Heber frowned at Rauf's back, "Tch… then why call us snakes? Just say it clearly!"
Seles chuckled as Alan shook his head, amused.
"An environment for growth, hun…" Helios repeated, staring thoughtfully at Ezekiel.
Back at the pitch, Ezekiel exhaled, his Seraph form dissolving to reveal his real self. For a few moments he simply replayed what had happened in his mind until,
Adam rushed forward. Concern etched into his features, he asked, "Eze, Eze, are you okay?" His voice carried both worry and a feeling of loss.
Ezekiel shook his head, muttering apologetically, "Too bad… I guess I have to leave you alone now."
Adam shook his head vigorously, "Not at all. You're not leaving me. You're just letting me carry your spirit, got it? Don't feel down!" His tone was firm, encouraging.
Ezekiel ruffled his hair as he removed his helmet, letting out a breath, "Alright, alright. I pass my spirit to you. Just… don't let me down."
Adam smirked, "Not on my honor. Just you watch!"
Meanwhile, Kirill, now surrounded by entire Multan Sultans team, was being showered with praise and smiles.
Kian glanced at Ezekiel, who was walking away, and called out, "Hey! Don't be sad, okay? It's all part of the match!"
"Yeah, you did great," David added.
Ezekiel shook his head with a small smile, "Hearing it from another team doesn't make it sound any better."
"Hey, but doesn't it sound fresh? Name me any other team that's ever said that—go on, I'll wait. Can't think of one, huh? See? That's why we're loving rivals. Don't expect tears from us, you know," Nouis said, resting an elbow casually on Ezekiel's shoulder, a teasing grin spreading across his face.
Who knew where he even came from? Ezekiel felt a flicker of annoyance but forced a smile back, "Right, and I can't expect you to have tears from me either—after I hit you with my bat. I'm quite a peace-loving player myself, you see."
Nouis couldn't help but laugh, joined by Ishaq and Zidan.
Kirill glanced at Ezekiel's back. Just as Ezekiel was about to turn away, he called out, "You… broke my Shadow Cage paralysis in a single second. How?"
Ezekiel froze mid-step, recalling the moment his body had moved seemingly on its own. Even he hadn't understood what had happened. His gaze immediately flicked toward Seraph at Karachi's pavilion.
Having your body move at someone else's command without having the authority to control it back again…
Just the thought made a shiver ran down his spine.
What in the world had Seraph Awan endured all this time with his Cleve persona?
Ezekiel couldn't even begin to fathom. He walked back slowly. "Who knows how? I wasn't the one playing. Seraph Awan of our team was. Ask him later."
Kirill's eyes narrowed silently, the question still hanging heavy in the air.
---
"Well, there it goes…" Erum sighed, rolling her eyes. She glanced at Zain knowingly. "See? Told you they'd disappoint you again. You're the one who didn't listen."
Zain remained silent, absently flipping his pen between his fingers.
Just then, from the front seat, a young girl suddenly turned around with a smirk. "Eh? Don't you think it's a bit too early to decide that, auntie?" she asked, twirling a lollipop lazily in her fingers.