"Boss Haitam's really going for a clean wipe, isn't he?" Pierre remarked.
"Yeah. A spinner straight after the first two overs—he's clearly targeting Adam," Lucas agreed.
"Bet the folks in the opposite pavilion have caught on too," Raza added with a grin.
"Then why don't we find out?" Pierre suddenly hooked an arm around Daniil and Leon's shoulders, his expression brimming with mischief.
The two middle schoolers stiffened, exchanging wary looks. "I don't have a good feeling about this…" Daniil muttered—but before he could protest further, Pierre had already nudged them forward.
"Come on!" Pierre called, far too enthusiastically.
Basil let out a long breath, "Is this even appropriate?"
"Who knows?" Pierre winked, "Let's find out today."
Lucas sighed, utterly indifferent, "If we get into trouble, you're facing the penalty alone."
"Oh, don't be stingy. We're in this together, right?" Pierre shot back, casting an almost pleading look at the rest.
Raza shook his head, "You lot go ahead. I'm staying here—in case something turns… haunting."
Pierre puffed his cheeks and rolled his eyes, "Tch. Boring."
Mark chuckled, "Geez, Brother Pierre really is an idiot sometimes."
Lucas ran a hand through his hair with a confused sigh before following the others.
As they left, Raza glanced after them—then shifted his gaze toward the pavilion behind him. Yara and Yasir were deep in conversation, the air around them heavy and somber.
"Sigh… none of our damn business," Raza muttered.
A coach stepped up beside him with a light chuckle, "Says the one it matters to the most."
"Coach Noam, please don't start," Raza exhaled, "I just managed to rid myself of those troublemakers."
Noam laughed outright. Then, as the breeze settled, his tone softened, "Don't worry. It'll all return to how it was."
Raza blinked, a quiet hum escaping him as he looked back toward the field.
"Galleous Apollo—3rd-year middle schoolers captain, and a razor-sharp leg-spinner." Elias' voice lowered as his gaze narrowed toward the field, "He's also an achiever of the Realm of Irreversibility. Two stages unlocked."
The air subtly shifted.
"Across every match Multan Sultans have played," Elias continued, "he's the bowler who's conceded the fewest runs in his spells along with the four wicket haul he achieved that you already know of." He paused. "There's a rumor—just a rumor—but they say that once he bowls an over, the pitch remembers it. As if he can make the pitch itself retain memory by commanding it to do so."
Azazel blinked. "Command the pitch…?" He frowned, "What the heck does that mean? You're saying the pitch moves or something?"
Coach Musa let out a short smirk, "Silly brat."
Coach Pedro too couldn't suppress a shake of his head, amused.
Elias shook his head, a faint smile forming as the middle schoolers leaned in. "I don't claim to fully understand it—I haven't watched him play extensively either. But from what I've gathered, his Realm leaves such a deep impression that the pitch itself listens to him." He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"He can force the pitch to remember the deliveries of an over—the bounce, the turn, the return—then manipulate that memory to alter the ball's movement, disrupt the batsman's predictions, and counter their instincts." Elias exhaled softly, "That's the overall picture I have. I could still be missing something."
Xavier blinked at Elias, curiosity flickering in his eyes, "Did he… dream about today's match too? Yesterday, even Coach Pedro didn't have the slightest clue about his Realm."
Kenzo's eyes never left the field, "Guess we'll just have to see it for ourselves."
Poseidon and Cassiel nodded in quiet agreement.
Ezekiel finally untangling himself from the lingering commotion around him, let out a slow breath as he sat beside Seraph. For a moment, he said nothing—just stared at the ground. Then, barely above a whisper: "I'm sorry." His voice was so light that only Seraph, seated next to him, caught it.
Seraph blinked and turned. After a beat, his lips curved upward, "For what?"
"I know what I did," Ezekiel said, guilt clear on his face, "I just… blurted everything out like an idiot. I didn't think about how you'd feel."
Seraph clicked his tongue and lifted a hand, ruffling Ezekiel's hair, "Come on. You felt it, so you said it. I don't mind at all. What's there to apologize for?"
Ezekiel hummed, a small, self-aware grin forming. "Honestly… I was bewildered when it happened. When I take over someone, I experience everything—their feelings, their struggles, their sweat, their tears. I go through it all to create the perfect illusion."
His smile fade, "But when I got out, I realized how far I still am from perfection. I may have only touched fragments of their experiences—pieces of their emotions." He let out a breath. "Truth is… maybe I've never created a perfect illusion in my life. I was just feeding myself a fantasy—overestimating what I could do."
Seraph listened without interrupting. Ezekiel continued, voice steadier now, "And yet… I couldn't help but admire you. You've been enduring this push and pull for who knows how long—and you're still standing. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally." He glanced at Seraph, "After experiencing even a fraction of it… your image in my mind just skyrocketed."
Seraph froze, momentarily at a loss for words.
"There are only a few people who've ever drawn this feeling out of me," Ezekiel added. "Captain Helios. Vice-captain Poseidon. And… yeah, Alan—as far as I can remember." A quiet smile returned, "So I'm glad I went through it. It gave me another thrill—another push to become better than I am right now."
Seraph nodded, eyes forward, "I'm glad to hear that. Though you're praising me too much." He smiled faintly, "I am not omnipotent. I also get confused. Frustrated. Scared, even. But like you said—in the end, it's all about improving yourself. So let's keep going, together. Toward something greater than perfection—the best version of ourselves."He extended his fist.
Ezekiel's expression softened but remained firm, "Yeah." He bumped it back.
Listening from above, Helios couldn't help the faint smile that touched his lips. "That counts as progress, right?"
Gabriel, leaning a bit towards him whispered. Helios agreed, "Progress indeed."
Zachariah, his hand resting beneath his chin, blinked at Seraph's back and echoed softly, "Toward something greater than perfection—the best version of ourselves, huh…" A fleeting smile slipped across his lips. "You still remember that," he murmured, the words barely more than a secret.
Galleous marked the start of the third over by stepping onto the popping crease. His posture was fluid, almost effortless—calm to the point of arrogance. With a smooth rotation of his wrist, the ball slipped free, gliding toward the pitch at an average pace. Adam narrowed his gaze, shaping for a cover drive—only to halt mid-motion. The ball darted inward, targeting the stumps.
Adam checked the shot instantly, smothering it into the pitch for a dead return. "A googly," he murmured under his breath. His grip tightened around the handle. "I'm clearly not built for spin," he admitted inwardly.
"Better not take unnecessary risks. Sending him in straight after two pace overs—they're hunting another wicket in the powerplay, trying to keep the upper hand." His eyes hardened, "But that's exactly what I won't give them. I'm seeing Galle Galle's over through. Every ball." "Not to forget…" he whispered.
Galleous picked up the ball, a faint smile tugging at his lips as his eyes flicked over Adam, before he turned away.
Adam watched closely—and there it was. Just as he expected, a subtle golden shimmer bled into the air around Galleous after just a single delivery. "Realm of Irreversibility…" Adam muttered, clicking his tongue in irritation "Honestly, I know this little boss is itching to take me out—but to flaunt it so shamelessly, like he's already decided it?" He tapped his bat against the crease, annoyance flaring, "Tch. Like hell I'm getting out now."
Galleous began his run-up again. The next delivery was sharper—quicker through the air. A top-spinner.
Adam committed instinctively, his mind for the return made but was immediately forced back. The ball dipped earlier than expected, then leapt viciously off the surface, crashing into his bat with far more bounce than anticipated. It dropped just outside the leg side of the pitch, bouncing lightly a few times before coming to a halt. Adam exhaled slowly, steadying himself.
Zidan tossed the ball back to Galleous and returned to his position.
"Good job, good job," Haitam clapped, energized.
"The last two deliveries really shoved Adam Elamin onto the back foot, don't you think?" Wasim added.
"Absolutely," came the reply, "For someone known as a power hitter, reading spin variations this quickly is no easy task—especially with Galleous' length, form, and bowling technique all peaking at top-class condition…!" Maaz added until—
"OHH!!" The reaction erupted simultaneously—from the crowd and the fielders alike.
Back on the field, Adam swallowed hard as he turned his head. David stood behind him, the cock ball clenched in his gloves.
That was close.
"Just a hair's breadth away!" Jones exclaimed, "One tiny mistake and Adam Elamin would've been gone! What a painfully slow spin delivery that was—unconditional deception!"
The pressure tightened. And Galleous hadn't even finished the over.
Galleous smiled, a whisper brushing through the air. "Realm of Irreversibility: Stage 1— 'What's Done Can't Be Undone.'"