The rain had stopped hours ago, but the air inside the stadium was still thick humid with tension, electric with expectation. The crowd's roar rolled like distant thunder as Blaze stood by the touchline, his right leg tightly wrapped beneath the reinforced exo-bandages. Every flex of his knee sent a muted throb up his thigh, a warning his body refused to heed.
He'd waited weeks for this, weeks of recovery, meditation, and silent agony, Now, the first match in weeks, a side tournament more fierce than the domestic league would decide whether he had truly returned… or if his dream would end beneath the floodlights.
Jason's voice broke through the blur of noise.
"You only play if you feel it, Blaze. Not because you want to prove something. Understand?"
Blaze nodded, even though he didn't. He had to prove something to himself, to Anastasia, to the world that doubted him, and to the memory of his mother.
"Number 9, Blaze Titan… entering the pitch!"
