Julian's eyes locked onto him.
Silas Malik.
Captain of Riverside Prep.
Black skin that gleamed like polished obsidian, shimmering under the winter lights. His jersey—black with gold lining—looked like it had been tailored for war.
Number 8 on his chest. Height around 178 cm, lean but built like a coiled whip—smooth, efficient power.
He walked toward Julian with calm steps and a curious glint in his eyes.
"So you're the one from that video," Silas said, holding out a hand. "Julian, right? I'm Silas. Captain."
Julian didn't hesitate.
"Julian," he replied, shaking his hand. The grip was firm. Calculated. No ego. No fear.
Silas grinned. "What'll it be this time? More magic tricks? Maybe make our keeper freeze too?"
There was no sarcasm. Just interest. Like a kid poking at a beast behind a cage, wondering what it might do.
Before Julian could respond, a voice cut in.
"Better not provoke our striker," Riku snapped, jogging over with narrowed eyes. "He bites."
