The whistle had not yet blown, but the Eternal Era Stadium already trembled like the heart of a dying star.
From the substitutes' bench, Dante Anderson sat stiffly in his warm-up jacket, trying to look composed while the energy of eighty thousand spectators crashed against his mind. The galaxy had come to watch them—Eternal Era, the juggernauts, the name whispered across planets as the inheritors of football itself. And now, for the first time, Dante wasn't just a boy in the stands. He was part of it.
The Orion Blades lined up on the opposite side of the pitch. Their captain, Armand Sorel, stood tall, his platinum-blond hair pulled back in a warrior's knot. His gaze swept across the stadium with quiet arrogance, the kind born from years of command. The rest of the Blades mirrored him: lean, sharp, like weapons honed too many times.
Dante felt their collective energy when he brushed them with his Cosmic Telepathy. Calm. Precise. Deadly. No wasted thought.
He swallowed. How could Eternal Era match this?
Then he looked at his own team, standing shoulder to shoulder, their Titan Names simmering like restrained storms. Anastasia with her serene frost, Scarlet with her inferno smile, Lionel exuding mountain-solid calm, Grim radiating void-like dominance. They were stars in their own right.
"Don't slouch, rookie." Scarlet's voice drifted toward him from the pitch, though she hadn't even looked his way. She'd felt him. That was Scarlet—always aware, always sharp.
The referee raised the whistle.
The stadium held its breath.
Then—
FWEEEEEEEEET!
The Galaxy Clash began.
Eternal Era's Rhythm
The ball spun forward, and immediately the Orion Blades snapped into shape. Their passes cut across the pitch like streaks of light. Three, four, five one-touch passes and they were already testing Eternal Era's defensive line.
Dante leaned forward, his eyes wide. The Blades moved with terrifying precision. Every run, every feint was part of a larger rhythm like a symphony conducted by Armand himself. He stood in midfield, orchestrating the flow with barely a touch.
Lionel stepped up, intercepting the first attempt with a thunderous tackle that sent the ball skidding. The crowd roared. Scarlet darted wide to counter, her acceleration blazing.
"Scarlet on the left!" the commentator's voice boomed. "She's cutting in—what speed!"
Scarlet slalomed past one, then two defenders, her fiery aura licking at the grass. She unleashed a strike, but the Blades' keeper deflected it, the ball ricocheting back into open space.
Kenji pounced from the right wing, his blade-like movements slicing through, but again the Blades closed in, suffocating him.
From the bench, Dante clenched his fists. He could feel Scarlet's frustration radiating like heat. Kenji's sharp anger at being denied. Lionel's calm focus holding the defense steady.
But the Blades… their emotions barely rippled. They were ice, disciplined and merciless.
Jason Lockwood paced near the technical area, his eyes never leaving the field. He turned suddenly toward Dante.
What do you see?"
Dante stiffened. Jason's voice wasn't loud, but it sliced through the noise of the stadium.
"I… I see Armand," Dante answered. "He's not moving much, but everything goes through him. The others… orbit him."
Jason's lips twitched into something between approval and warning. "Good. Keep watching. When you play, you'll either bypass him—or drown in his gravity."
Dante turned back to the match, his telepathy tuning finer. He felt Armand now, the calm pulse of a man who believed the game was already his.
No wasted motion. No wasted thought.
Midway through the half, it happened.
A single lapse. Autumn Leaf pushed forward a fraction too late, leaving a gap. Armand saw it instantly. A flick of his boot sent the ball spiraling into that empty space.
The Blades' striker, a towering figure named Kael, burst through. One touch, two, and he was past Lionel's cover.
Our Keeper charged forward, his Titan Name shadow engulfing the goal. He was Eternal Era's wall, the immovable keeper whose presence alone broke strikers.
But Kael didn't flinch. He struck.
The ball cut low, defying Grim's reach, and slammed into the net.
GOOOOOAAAAAL!
The Orion Blades 1 – Eternal Era 0.
The stadium erupted in chaos, boos mixing with cheers from Blades supporters scattered across the galaxies.
On the bench, Dante's heart clenched. He could feel Grim's fury radiating like a storm, Lionel's jaw tightening, Scarlet's flames spiking with rage.
Jason didn't move. He simply crossed his arms. "That's what happens when you give them an inch," he muttered.
But Eternal Era was not a team that bowed.
Moments later, Scarlet ignited. She demanded the ball, her aura blazing crimson as she tore down the left flank again. This time, she didn't try to outpace them—she lured them. Two defenders closed in. She cut back sharply, her movements like fire coiling into a whip, and released a curling cross.
Kenji leapt, his strike slicing the ball through the air.
The net rippled.
GOOOAL! Eternal Era equalize!
The stadium exploded in joy. Dante jumped from the bench, unable to contain his shout. Scarlet smirked, pointing toward the bench as though daring him. That's how it's done, rookie.
The rest of the half became a war of attrition. The Blades tightened their structure, refusing to be caught out again. Eternal Era pressed harder, Scarlet and Kenji blazing down the wings, Lionel shutting down wave after wave, Anastasia calmly dictating passes from deep.
Dante's telepathy caught flickers of thought—fear from the Blades' defenders every time Scarlet received the ball, cold calculation from Armand as he waited, and deep, unshakable trust flowing from Lionel into his team.
The minutes ticked by. Sweat soaked shirts. The pitch was scarred by sliding tackles and desperate sprints.
Then, just before halftime, disaster almost struck again.
Armand threaded another impossible pass, Kael racing clear. The keeper roared, his shadow aura expanding, but Kael slipped the ball past—
Only for Lionel to crash in at the last second, his Titan strength shattering the attack with a clean, brutal block. The crowd erupted. Lionel simply rose, dusted off his hands, and jogged back into formation as though nothing had happened.
"Lionel Stronghold, saving Eternal Era again!" the commentator screamed.
Dante's chest swelled with something like awe. So that's what it means to be unbreakable.
Halftime Whistle
The whistle blew.
Eternal Era 1 – Orion Blades 1.
The players trudged off the pitch, sweat dripping, eyes blazing. Dante stood with them as they re-entered the tunnel. The air buzzed with adrenaline and anger.
Scarlet wiped her brow with her wrist tape, glaring at Armand across the way. "Smug bastard," she muttered.
Lionel caught Dante's eye as they walked in. "See? This is why we train. One mistake, and they punish you. But one answer, and we're alive again."
Jason gathered them in the locker room, his voice sharp and cold. "They think they've contained us. They think they've read us. Good. Let them believe it. Because the second half, we break their rhythm."
His eyes flicked to Dante.
"Stay sharp. Your time is coming."
Dante sat on the bench, heart hammering. His debut was no longer a distant fear. It was minutes away.
And as the roar of the crowd echoed through the concrete walls, Dante realized—when he stepped onto that pitch, he wouldn't just be a Rising Star anymore.
He'd either prove himself Eternal Era material… or be swallowed by the galaxy.