The city's skyline glowed with twilight as Dante left his mother's apartment. He had stayed just long enough to share dinner, to reassure her with his smile, though inside he carried the weight of her words:
"Don't lose yourself, Dante. Talent can win games, but character wins battles."
He hugged her goodbye, promising to return soon, before slipping into the night.
But his path didn't take him back to his own room. His instincts pulled him toward the Eternal Era stadium. Tonight, the Senior Squad was playing a high-profile exhibition match against a visiting European elite. Word had spread that international scouts and media were watching this was more than a friendly.
Dante bought a cheap ticket in the upper rows, pulling his hoodie low as he settled into the buzzing crowd. Fans waved banners, chanting names of their heroes. For the first time since joining the Rising Stars, Dante felt like just another face in the masses.
And then they emerged.
The Eternal Era seniors strode out like titans of another realm. Their black-and-silver kits shimmered under floodlights, each embroidered with their Titan Name sigils.
Grim led them at the front, captain's armband gleaming, his presence cold and absolute.
Lionel "Stronghold" walked beside him, tall, broad-shouldered, exuding quiet confidence.
Anastasia "Autumn Leaf", hair tied back neatly, right wing defender, graceful as the wind.
Scarlet "Crimson Viper", fiery red hair loose, grin daring the world to stop her.
The others followed—Aya, Kenji, Zara, Malik, Diego, Mikhail, and Ryuji—completing the machine.
The crowd roared.
Dante leaned forward, eyes sharp. He wasn't here just to enjoy football. He was here to learn.
The Opening Half
The whistle blew.
The visiting side wasted no time, pushing forward with blistering speed. Their striker, a European prodigy nicknamed The Phantom, blurred past Diego with a double feint. The crowd gasped—an early crack in Eternal Era's armor.
But Lionel was waiting.
The striker cut inside, only to slam into an invisible wall. Lionel stepped in, his body rooted like a mountain. With a casual sweep of his leg, he stole the ball clean, his aura pressing outward like a fortress come alive.
"Stronghold! Stronghold! Stronghold!" the fans chanted.
Dante's eyes widened. He didn't even use brute force. He anchored the pitch itself. That's… mastery.
Lionel launched a long pass—a cannon blast disguised as elegance. The ball whistled across half the pitch, curving into Zara's feet. In one motion, she flicked it behind her with Illusion Dribble, splitting into two mirages that sent defenders stumbling. The real ball zipped to Scarlet, who spun into a flaming heel-kick pass.
The tempo spiked instantly.
Anastasia charged down the right flank, Autumn Leaf aura rippling around her. She was not raw power like Lionel; she was fluidity itself. She ghosted past her marker with a leaf-step feint, her boots barely seeming to touch the turf. A gale-like shield burst outward, pushing aside a sliding tackle without breaking her stride.
Dante's chest tightened. She looked effortless, but her technique was razor-sharp. He remembered their brief meeting—the praise in her eyes—and now he understood why she was respected. She wasn't just Jason's daughter. She was a warrior in her own right.
Anastasia crossed.
Kenji exploded into the air with lightning speed, smashing a volley that rattled the post. The rebound fell to Aya Nakamura. Silent, deadly, she unleashed a Crescent Kick, the ball slicing through defenders like moonlight. Goal.
The stadium erupted.
Dante's Perspective
For the next twenty minutes, Dante barely blinked. Every second revealed something.
Grim's Shadow Zone, warping the pace of play so opponents seemed sluggish near him.
Zara's unpredictable passes, bending logic itself.
Mikhail's icy tackles, freezing momentum in their tracks.
Ryuji's Dragon's Gate, his ki aura swatting a rocket shot as though the ball itself feared him.
But above all—Lionel.
Time after time, the European forwards tested him. They tried flicks, speed bursts, feints, even aerial duels. And time after time, Lionel was there, immovable, unshaken. When the striker attempted a scissor-kick, Lionel didn't even jump—he leaned, chesting the ball down as if gravity itself favored him.
The crowd screamed his name again.
Dante clenched his fists under his hoodie. That's the gap. He doesn't need lightning. He doesn't need illusions. He controls space by existing. Stronghold…
For the first time in weeks, Dante felt something rare: humility mixed with awe.
Second Half – Clash of Styles
The Europeans adjusted after halftime. Their captain unleashed a whirlwind dribble, slicing past Scarlet and Mikhail. The Eternal Era defense bent—until Lionel stepped forward.
The captain unleashed a brutal strike. Lionel raised a single leg, absorbing the shot, and countered with Titan Wall Header, sending the ball rocketing downfield like a meteor.
Anastasia was already sprinting. She caught the ball mid-stride, flicked it past two markers, and connected with Aya. Aya tapped it once, then backheeled to Kenji. Kenji blasted forward with Thunderclaw Dash, leaving afterimages, before drilling the ball into the top corner.
2–0. Eternal Era.
But the Europeans weren't finished. They unleashed a surprise: their prodigy striker revealed a hidden technique—Void Step, vanishing from sight mid-sprint. For a heartbeat, the pitch gasped.
He reappeared inside the box, one-on-one with the keeper. Ryuji braced, but even his ki couldn't react in time.
Before the strike landed—Lionel appeared.
It was impossible. Void Step erased presence, yet Lionel's instincts tracked him like radar. He slammed into the striker with Fortress Step, timing perfect, clean, unyielding. The ball rolled harmlessly away.
The crowd lost its mind.
Dante's breath caught. So this is the level of defenders who reach the top 100…
Final Moments
In the last minutes, Grim sealed the match. From midfield, he pulled the pitch into his Shadow Zone, threads of energy slowing opponents by fractions of a second. Within that distorted space, Zara delivered the killing blow: a ghost-pass to Aya, who finished with another Moonblade strike.
3–0. Game over.
The Eternal Era seniors had not just won—they had dominated.
---
Post-Match
As fans streamed out, Dante lingered in the shadows of the stands. His mind was a storm.
Anastasia had elegance. Scarlet had fire. Grim had control. Lionel—Lionel had something beyond all of them. A solidity that even lightning couldn't break.
Cosmic Telepathy. Elemental Speed. He clenched his fists. Those are my gifts. But what's the use if I can't anchor them like Stronghold? If I can't control the game the way Grim does?
For the first time since stepping onto Eternal Era's turf, Dante felt the gap not as an insult—but as a challenge.
And in the shadows above the pitch, two figures watched him. The same bounty hunters from the café.
"He's growing faster than expected," the woman murmured.
The man smirked. "Good. The higher he climbs… the harder the fall."
Dante adjusted his hoodie, stepping into the night.
Tomorrow, he would return to training. But tonight, he had witnessed the future.
And he was determined to reach it.