Team Vitalis filed into their section, the weight of the last match still clinging to them.

  Grid dropped into his seat with a heavy thump, head tipped back so far it hung over the edge of the backrest. Fresh bandages wrapped his forearms and forehead, the sting of Null’s elbow still buzzing under his skin. His shoulders sagged, exhaustion painted across his posture.

  A sudden blur cut into his view. Snapback leaned forward over the back of Grid’s seat, grin upside-down, hair spilling like a curtain.

  “You’re too close. What do you want?” Grid muttered.

  Snapback rocked back, chuckling, then dropped into a crouch beside him. His finger traced a lazy circle in the air.

  “Not really here for anything. Just thinkin’.”

  His grin sharpened.

  “Everybody thought your plan was to rattle Flatline. Get him sloppy, make him slip. But when you really look at it…”

  He tilted his head.

  “Going for the rope — that was your last resort. Everything else? Smooth. Planned to the tee. Except that part. Why?”

  Grid’s jaw tightened, silent.

  Snapback wagged a finger, mock-serious.

  “Not sure—but if I had to guess I’d say you were hoping to frustrate him into activating his Niche. Disqualification. Team Vitalis wins. Clean, simple.”

  Then his expression shifted into exaggerated thinking mode, hand on chin, swaying side to side like some cartoon detective.

  “Hmmmmmm… bu what if he actually let that niche loose? Veritas isn’t punishing a captain. So maybe… your team was worth the collateral damage, huh? Bold move, MapQuest.”

  Grid’s lips pressed thin.

  Snapback stood, hands sliding into his pockets.

  “But hey, I’m probably just overthinking.”

  His laugh echoed behind him as he strolled off, careless as ever.

  He stopped mid-step, spotting something across the aisle. His grin widened.

  “Lava Lily! Lava Lily! Why are you sittin’ all the way over there? Shouldn’t you be with your captain?”

  His voice carried across the rows, animated and shameless.

  Lava Lily rolled her eyes, shoulders slouching in exasperation.

  Snapback pouted dramatically, dragging his steps as he shuffled toward her.

  “I’m your captain and you never listen to me…”

  His tone turned into a whine, arms flopping to his sides as his light footsteps tapped along the floor.

  Grid watched him go, faint shock in his eyes.

  He… saw right through me.

  His fingers curled tight against the armrest. The thought whispered sharp, unrelenting.

  Did I put my team in danger just to be win?

  ?

  Far from the seats, another silence carried its own weight. Boots tapped against the polished floor, steady and unhurried.

  Captain Kaito walked the corridor with his palm resting on the grip of his katana, the weapon sheathed at his side. His posture was a blade in itself — straight, precise, controlled.

  From the far end, a voice broke the quiet.

  “Captain!”

  Valor’s figure jogged from behind, eyes lit faint with challenge.

  Kaito slowed, head turning just enough to catch a glimpse of him.

  Valor stood there, shoulders squared, chin raised, eyes bright.

  “…What?”

  Kaito’s tone was cold, clipped.

  Valor’s fists tightened.

  “Show that golden boy he’s not as big as he thinks he is.”

  Kaito faced him fully now, palm still poised on his katana. His voice was calm, but the words cut like steel.

  “You speak to me as though I care about your childish rivalry. Don’t ever come to me with this nonsense again. I am a captain. I don’t deal in such matters.”

  The glow drained from Valor’s eyes. For a heartbeat, confusion flickered — then sadness, then barely bridled anger. His jaw clenched, his chest rose sharp, but he said nothing.

  He turned, fists balled at his sides, storming back into the shadows of the hall. Behind him, Kaito continued toward the light of the open doors, each step steady. The steel sheath caught the glow, reflecting a single sharp gleam as he passed through.

  ?

  The maximum-security prison rumbled. Towers sank into the ground, steel gates folding inward, sensors and floodlights vanishing beneath heavy slabs of plating.

  CLANG!

  With a deep metallic finality, the prison was gone.

  The arena shifted again. The ground groaned, plates sliding as something new rose from below.

  Streetlamps flickered to life, one by one, casting pale light across cracked sidewalks. Two-story houses stood in rows, their windows glowing faintly with yellow warmth. A corner store sat on one block, shutters pulled halfway down. Across the street, an old school loomed, its chain-link fence rattling in the artificial wind.

  The city wasn’t sprawling — no skyscrapers. Just the quiet stretch of a neighborhood, streets cutting into intersections, alleyways running narrow between brick walls. Stop signs reflected red under the lamps, puddles catching the glow like broken mirrors.

  At the far end of the block, was a building, a gymnasium. That was where the captive waited.

  ?

  The city held its stage. Inside a dim, abandoned gymnasium, two captains stood — one bound, one waiting.

  Kaito didn’t look at Titan when he spoke, his palm resting steady on the grip of his katana.

  “All tied up, Titan… no Echo to save you this time.”

  Titan’s eyes narrowed.

  “If Echo were here… you wouldn’t have that invincible demeanor.”

  A faint curl touched Kaito’s mouth.

  “Maybe. Or maybe he’d finally see I was right.”

  Titan leaned forward against the restraints, the chair groaning.

  “He saw more than you ever realized.”

  The announcer’s voice thundered over the dome, rattling the bones of the false city.

  “Captains in position — cadets, prepare to engage!”

  Kaito’s hand tightened slightly on the hilt.

  “Let’s see if your cadets can free you before I decide they can’t.”

  Metal creaked under Titan’s shoulders as he straightened, his silence carrying more weight than words.

  The announcer’s voice echoed through the hollow streets:

  “Next match — Deadzone Protocol! Team Titan… versus Captain Kaito!”

  ?

  [ENTERING ZONE EIGHT — TEAM TITAN]

  From the tunnel shadows, Team Titan stepped into the glow.

  Ayasha scanned the rows of houses.

  “Well… this is déjà vu.”

  Lior’s eyes narrowed.

  “Yeah. Memories.”

  Cael’s voice was even.

  “Good and bad.”

  Lior turned to Ayasha and Cael, eyes burning with resolve.

  “But this time we’re prepared. Let’s show Titan how much we’ve grown.”

  In unison, Lior, Ayasha, and Cael shouted.

  “Team Titan!”

  Before the adrenaline could rush in, Lior’s mind drifted. As the thoughts of what he lost came over him.

  Brock… Anya… Kalu. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough. You didn’t deserve th—

  The announcer’s voice crashed over the dome.

  “Match — begin!”

  “Lior!” Shouted Ayasha.

  His name brought him back to reality.

  “Y—Yeah, Right. Let’s move.”

  The three sprinted, boots slapping pavement. Cael fell naturally to the rear, scanning.

  “Ayasha — vantage point!”

  Her eyes flashed yellow—

  —Shwooom—Bam!

  She bounced once, twice, then vaulted skyward as her crimson-orange aura trailed behind her.

  She landed atop a roof. Another leap carried her higher, landing on a two story house. She scanned, then dropped back down.

  “There’s a place in the back, kind of looks like a school gym. If I had to hide him, that’s where I would put him.”

  They sprinted three more steps.

  SHHHHF!

  Lior’s eyes flashed yellow. Slipstream snapped alive.

  A rifle butt carved for his temple. He dipped, letting it hiss over, and drove his knee into the soldier’s gut.

  Stolen story; please report.

  WHUMP!

  The man folded.

  A second soldier rushed — Ayasha streaked in, fist detonating with stored kinetic force.

  CRACK!

  The blow launched him into the wall, unconscious.

  Cael’s starred at Lior, his voice tight.

  “How do you do that?”

  Lior shook his head.

  “I have no idea. It just… happens. I can’t trigger it on command. I can only pull from it — like in the Veil Drill.”

  ?

  In the stands, Grid tapped Thorn’s arm with a smirk.

  “See? I told you. Two Niches.”

  Silverline’s eyes lingered too long.

  “What do you expect from somebody like him? He’s… amazing.”

  Both Thorn and Grid turned.

  Grid groaned.

  “Why’d I get the love-sick teammate?”

  Silverline jolted, cheeks flaring red.

  “Sh-shut up! I just think he’s cool, that’s all!”

  Thorn snorted.

  “Yeah, yeah. Let’s pipe down before we miss this trial.”

  Silverline puffed her cheeks, blushing as the mission pressed on.

  ?

  Ayasha shook her fist.

  “Two down.”

  Cael slowed, aura faint at his temples.

  “If I were them… one through the alley, two by the cars. Crossfire angles. We don’t know their true numbers, but those are the routes I’d bet on.”

  ?

  Memory surged for Lior. Six years old again, Rae’s rough hands setting him into place, her words.

  “The three foundations of stealth, Lior. Remember them, and you’ll survive.”

  “Misdirection — give them something false.”

  “Shadow Flow — move with the dark.”

  “Silent Timing — strike when their rhythm breaks.”

  ?

  The present snapped back.

  “We can use her rules,” Lior muttered. “Cael, guide us. Ayasha, break cover if they spot us.”

  Cael’s eyes sharpened.

  “Why didn’t I think of those.”

  And then it began—

  Soldiers arrive coming from the exact positions Cael believed they would.

  Ayasha slipped between two parked vans, crouching low. She tossed a loose stone onto the pavement — clatter! — and one soldier turned instantly toward the noise.

  Shadow Flow.

  Lior glided through the dark on the opposite side, every step silent, his movements guided by Rae’s lessons. The soldier’s attention never touched him until his eyes flashed yellow —

  TUNNN!

  — and a Pulse Brake detonated point-blank into the man’s chest. The concussive burst dropped him cold.

  Misdirection.

  Cael dropped a trash can lid from behind a fence, the clang bouncing through the alleyways. The second soldier pivoted the wrong way entirely. Ayasha detonated forward — kinetic punch crushing him into a car, denting the door.

  Silent Timing.

  The last soldier swept around the corner. Lior and Cael froze, waiting. His boots clicked steady against the asphalt. Then — a pause. He checked his comms, distracted, his rhythm broken.

  “Beta 1, are you in position.”

  Lior surged forward, hand snapping across the man’s neck, pulling him into unconscious silence before he hit the ground.

  And just like that — five soldiers down.

  Cael listened for other soldiers.

  “Let’s hope that’s it..”

  The city streets fell still. No shadows left to hunt them.

  No one else remained between Team Titan… and Captain Kaito.

  ?

  Up above, in the enclosed directors’ booth, the mood was different.

  President Kaelen rose from her seat, her black coat trailing as she walked toward Xun Ren. He leaned on the railing, silver eyes locked on the cadets below.

  She spoke softly, but her words cut through the air.

  “Seems Titan was right. Kaito’s team may not be the best for the weather machine mission.”

  Xun’s expression didn’t change, though a faint gleam flickered across his gaze.

  “They show promise. But we can’t count any of these teams out. Every one of them has been exceptional through these trials.”

  The booth fell silent after Xun’s measured words, their voices swallowed by the rattle of the dome.

  ?

  Down below, Team Titan had moved toward the gymnasium.

  They slipped through the neighborhood like shadows, knowing there still could be more soldiers out there.

  Ayasha vaulted lightly onto the hood of a parked car. The dented metal gave a faint creak beneath her weight, and she froze mid-motion, muscles coiled.

  Behind her, Cael’s gaze swept the street, every detail running through his head— MindFrame. A digital flow of green and gold light ran around his body as he ran the possibilities, narrowing them down until only one thread felt right.

  “This way,” he whispered, sharp and certain.

  Lior crouched near a fence as Cael’s voice cut through the silence. At the far end of the block, the gymnasium waited under a wash of light.

  Lior looked at his team.

  “There’s no point in trying to sneak in. I don’t see Captain Kaito falling for anything like that.”

  Ayasha nodded.

  “So through the front.”

  Concern flashed across Cael’s face, but he knew it was the best option.

  “Through the front.”

  They stacked hands, then on three shouted:

  “Team Titan!”

  ?

  In the stands, Arcline was cheesing next to Snapback, anxious with anticipation.

  Rows below, Valor — still burning from his dismissal by Kaito.

  “He’ll never learn, but my Captain will make this quick and show everyone how inferior he is.”

  ?

  Down in the zone, Team Titan stood before the gym doors, opening them and stepping inside.

  Captain Kaito’s silhouette waited, center court, palm resting calmly on the grip of his katana. The gym lights caught the steel in a faint gleam.

  “…Cadets.”

  He advanced with unhurried poise, boots clicking steady against the wood floor.

  Titan sat in the back corner of the gym, in his same stoic fashion — as if he were not tied up at all.

  Ayasha broke first, momentum stored in every muscle as she vaulted low toward Kaito. Lior came on her flank, guard high.

  From the other side, Cael snapped:

  “Together — left, then high!”

  Ayasha ripped a hook for Kaito’s gut. He turned with surgical ease, palm redirecting her into the bleachers.

  CLANG!

  She gritted her teeth and caught herself.

  Lior’s strike followed, his fist driving for Kaito’s chin.

  The captain’s elbow snapped toward his temple — clean, fight-ending.

  Shhhhhhf— Slipstream snapped alive, stretching the instant. He tucked under by a hair, the elbow grazing past. He swung a counter-blow, but Kaito’s grip clamped his wrist, pivoting to hurl him across the court. His back slammed against the padded wall behind the basketball goal.

  THUMP!

  Cael cut low for the captain’s ankle, but Kaito shifted like water. His palm struck Cael’s chest flat, the impact folding him back into the wood.

  Whump!

  “Again!” Lior barked, forcing air back into his lungs.

  Cael slid from under Kaito, still gasping.

  They surged once more — Ayasha springing off the bleachers for a midair punch, Cael circling for a flank, Lior rushing head-on. Kaito threaded through their timing, his heel arcing toward Lior’s jaw—

  Shhhhhhf— Slipstream flared again. Time thinned, just enough for Lior to drop beneath the strike. He swung wild — Kaito caught his shoulder, slinging him into the bleachers Ayasha had just leaped from.

  CLANG!.

  Ayasha’s midair blow was redirected after Kaito landed two devastating blows to her stomach and neck. Sending her flying into a group of folded chairs.

  KRANG!

  Cael’s flank charge was stuffed by a palm to the chest, sending him flying into the wall. Unable to catch his breath.

  In seconds, all three cadets were scattered — Ayasha not moving, Cael struggling to breath, Lior groaning as he rolled off the bleachers onto the floor.

  Kaito stood untouched, palm never leaving the hilt of his sheathed katana. His voice carried across the court, cold and unshaken.

  “Your training relies too much on emotion and camaraderie, Titan… and not enough on results.”

  Lior’s cheek pressed against the cold gym floor. His ribs screamed as he forced one eye open. The captain’s words echoed into the dark—

  —and another voice surfaced.

  Brock’s.

  “My Captain — he’s an old geezer now, who loves women too much. But once he told me this: ‘Those who care for the well-being of others above the pursuit of power are the ones who will truly shape the world — not through control, but through compassion that endures long after power fades.’ That’s the person you want leading you.”

  Lior’s fist clenched. His body trembled as he pushed to his knees, blood streaking down his temple. His voice cracked, then steadied.

  “My captain cares about the lives of his cadets… What’s the point of winning—if it costs everything you love?”

  Kaito’s eyes narrowed faintly.

  “…Na?ve.”

  But Lior was already rising. Legs shaking, aura sparking faint around him. His eyes burned yellow. The dome hummed with sudden tension.

  “I’ll stand. Because that’s what he taught me to do.”

  Kaito exhaled through his nose, unimpressed.

  “I won’t even take my hand off this sword.”

  His palm stayed steady atop the hilt, daring him to move.

  Lior surged forward. The court cracked under his step. His fist shot for Kaito’s chest.

  Kaito deflected with his shoulder and countered, palm strike sharp as a hammer. Lior twisted, Slipstream bending perception just enough to slip past, answering with a tight elbow. Kaito blocked and shoved him back.

  They clashed again. Slipstream stretched time for a heartbeat — a kick dodged by inches, a sweep vaulted just in time. Kaito’s counters were cold and exact, every motion polished by years of discipline. Lior’s body staggered under the strain, but he pressed harder, driven past his limits.

  ?

  In the stands, cadets leaned forward, eyes wide.

  Grid muttered, “He’s actually keeping pace…”

  Thorn’s brow furrowed.

  “Look at his face — he’s definitely in pain.”

  Silverline’s cheeks flushed pink.

  Hiroshi smirked knowingly.

  Captain Seraph, face softened.

  “So this is your son Echo?”

  ?

  Still, Kaito’s hand never left the hilt of his sword.

  Lior’s chest heaved. A flash struck through his mind mid-step — Titan’s voice, remembered clear.

  “The surprise of you having two Niches is long past. Anyone paying attention knows. But what they don’t know… is if you can use them in unison. And it’s a step only you can take.”

  The words cut through the chaos. His body moved before thought. Slipstream stretched the world again — Kaito’s strike slowed just enough.

  Pulse Brake detonated from his elbow.

  TUNNN!

  For the first time, Kaito stepped back.

  And then it happened.

  Silver-white ribbons streamed off Lior’s frame, trailing like mist. Blue-gold pulses rippled from his chest, concentric rings glowing as they expanded. Both Niches bled into each other, colliding, unstable, storming around him.

  Captain Ironclad leaned forward, his usual cold eyes widened..

  “What is that?”

  Kaito’s expression sharpened.

  Lior lunged. Slipstream bent the moment thin, opening the gap. Pulse Brake detonated through his strike, redirecting Kaito’s guard — and Slipstream held the window open.

  It ignited again, not from his fist nor as a barrier, but from his feet, thrusting him toward Kaito, fist spearing for the chin.

  For the first time, Kaito’s hand came off his sword, raising to block—

  —but Slipstream held the window open.

  Lior’s fist skimmed across Kaito’s chin, a faint red line cutting into the captain’s skin as he moved just in time to avoid a full collision.

  The sound cracked louder than the hit itself. The dome froze.

  A cadet had forced a captain to retreat backwards.

  A cadet, alone, had drawn blood.

  Lior’s aura blazed violently, both Niches raging at once, uncontrolled. His body shook under the storm, nerves screaming. And still, he managed a faint grin.

  “Gotcha…”

  Then he collapsed, face-first onto the floor. Both auras sputtered out in fading sparks.

  Kaito straightened, brushing his thumb across the scrape on his chin, looking at the blood. His face never shifted, but his silence carried weight enough to shake the dome.

  The buzzer screamed.

  BZZZZZT!

  The Jumbotron flashed the result of the final match

  [ROUND EIGHT: COMPLETE]

  [TEAM TITAN: FAILED.]

  For a heartbeat, silence ruled the dome.

  Then — one slow clap. Another. And the cadets erupted.

  The roar rolled like thunder, shaking the stands.

  Teams Vitalis, Snapback, Pulse, and Seraph stood, clapping and cheering, voices crashing together.

  Even in defeat, the arena had just witnessed something unforgettable.

  Grid leaned forward, smirking despite himself. For the first time, neither his eyes nor his posture looked tired, but excited.

  Across the way, Valor sat rigid, fists clenched white, jaw locked.

  Mirage and Sync leaned forward, eyes alight, the fight still alive in their veins.

  Team Null was fractured. Selena clapped with quiet warmth. Ditto looked amazed. Gale’s glare burned sharp as glass.

  Ironclad didn’t move. Their faces were carved from stone, gazes locked forward. Even Rex’s sharp features didn’t twitch.

  And in the middle of it all — Titan stirred.

  The cuffs binding him cracked.

  KR-RKKT!

  Metal snapped apart like kindling.

  He rose to his full height, shoulders loose but power radiating off him.

  He crossed the court in slow strides, the sound in the stands folded around him.

  Ayasha was first. He knelt, pressing a hand to her shoulder.

  “You good?”

  His voice was quiet, steady.

  She smirked through the ache.

  “Always.”

  Cael was next. Titan pulled him up with a subtle nod.

  Then he reached Lior. Face down, chest still heaving, every spark burned out of him.

  Titan’s shadow fell long across the gym.

  He bent and lifted him with ease, slinging the boy over his shoulder. A faint smile broke through the steel of his face.

  “…Hmph.”

  The claps still thundered as Titan carried him away.

  Kaito walked the opposite direction, his steps unhurried, chin streaked faint with blood. He disappeared into the tunnel without a word.

  The crowd’s voices swelled again, chanting, clapping, refusing to let the moment fade.

  A cadet had stood against a captain. A cadet had drawn blood.

  And the dome would never forget it.

  End of Chapter 36