The stadium lights dimmed, leaving only the soft hum of the evening wind over the training pitch. Blaze sat on the turf, one knee propped against his chest, the other leg extended with the tight sting of fatigue radiating from his right leg. His aura, a swirling crimson flame, danced violently around him, reacting to the echoes of his own heartbeat. Every breath felt thick, like inhaling molten iron, yet he didn't dare move too quickly. The last match had left him bruised, exhausted, and on the brink of burning through his abilities.

Diego knelt beside him, wiping sweat from his brow with a towel and shooting him a lopsided grin. "You're pushing too hard again. Cosmic Telepathy doesn't need to fry your brain, and Elemental Speed doesn't need to turn your legs into pistons of fire every time you sprint."

Blaze let out a low laugh, one that was more frustration than humor. "I can't afford to hold back. Not now… not with the side tournament looming."

Anastasia, standing just behind Diego, crossed her arms, the wind ruffling the strands of hair that had escaped her tight ponytail. The subtle shift of her body drew Blaze's eyes to her. She wasn't smiling, but her gaze carried warmth, a quiet, steady admiration that made his chest tighten. "You're going to break yourself if you don't slow down. You can control the aura flames enough to stabilize them, can't you?"

Blaze swallowed. The truth was, the flames weren't fully under control. Even after weeks of training, each time he pushed his scoring techniques, Serpent Fang and Jörmungandr, his aura would flare uncontrollably, threatening to consume his body. Combining them with Cosmic Telepathy and Elemental Speed wasn't just difficult, it was almost impossible. Every motion became a battle against himself.

"I… I can manage it," Blaze said, his voice tight, almost defensive. "I just need a little more time."

Anastasia crouched slightly, her hand brushing the back of his shoulder. Her touch was light, fleeting, but it sent a shiver down his spine. "You're already pushing past what anyone else could even attempt. Don't lie to yourself."

Diego rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "She's right. And don't forget, the Giants are watching. The side tournament scouts are everywhere. You can't just burn out on the first play. That's why we're here. We're going to train smarter, not just harder."

Blaze let his aura flare again, crimson flames licking the air like liquid fire, swirling faster than before. He exhaled sharply, forcing the energy inward, letting it calm as much as it could. His Cosmic Telepathy hummed, sending faint waves into Diego and Anastasia, enough to alert them to his emotional turmoil without revealing the full depth of his exhaustion.

"I… I just don't want to let anyone down," Blaze admitted, his eyes flicking down to the grass. "After… after everything, after losing her…" He didn't finish the sentence. The memory of his mother's face haunted him—the last smile before the illness took her. He had skipped camp to be with her, to sit by her side, to hold her hand one last time. The pain of that loss burned hotter than any aura flame could.

Anastasia's hand moved again, brushing his arm this time. "You're not alone in this," she said softly. "We're a team, Blaze. All of us. And we've got your back."

Blaze's chest tightened. He wanted to say something, but words failed him. Instead, he let his aura flames flare just enough to illuminate the faint outlines of his teammates arriving on the pitch—Diego, Scarlet, Kenji, and Aya—all looking to him for guidance, encouragement, and the spark he brought to the field. Even the younger trainees from Team B stood on the sidelines, eager eyes fixed on him, expecting him to lead.

Jason emerged from the shadows, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, the weight of his experience evident in his posture. He had been Blaze's greatest supporter since the beginning, guiding him through every dangerous drill, every mental and physical challenge. Yet even Jason looked concerned. The way Blaze's aura danced unpredictably was a clear warning that he was pushing beyond his limits.

"Alright," Jason said, his voice low but commanding. "Today, we do something different. Not just footwork. Not just drills. We train your control. Every strike, every sprint, every goal attempt will feed your aura flames. If you burn it too hot, you'll break yourself. But if you manage it… you'll become untouchable."

Blaze nodded, taking a deep breath, trying to steady the flames that clung to him like a second skin. He flexed his right leg slowly, mindful of the lingering soreness, feeling the combination of his martial arts training and his innate abilities coursing through him. Elemental Speed made his movements lightning-fast, while Cosmic Telepathy allowed him to anticipate even the tiniest motions from his teammates and the imagined defenders in his drills.

"Let's start with the basics," Jason continued. "Footwork in motion. Now, don't just run. Move like you're an extension of the flames themselves. Every step should radiate, every pivot should channel energy."

Blaze dashed forward, the turf beneath his boots flaring briefly with sparks of energy as his Elemental Speed kicked in. He shifted into a low kung fu stance, his legs coiling like springs, ready to react to every imaginary tackle. He spun into a crescent kick, juggling a ball that had been lofted in the air by Scarlet, whose own martial techniques blended seamlessly with her passes. The ball shot toward Diego, who caught it mid-leap and redirected it toward Blaze with a spinning handstand—an acrobatic flourish that tested both timing and precision.

Blaze's aura flames responded, brightening, almost as if cheering him on. He launched into Serpent Fang, a spinning, multi-strike volley, each kick and pivot perfectly timed with his teammates' movements. The ball curved with an impossible trajectory, striking the small goal Jason had set up at the far end. Scarlet clapped, Diego laughed, and Anastasia's eyes sparkled with pride.

"Good," Jason said, moving closer. "Now let's push it further. You're going to attempt Jörmungandr 2.0." His gaze was piercing, challenging Blaze. "Think about combining your abilities—not just one or two. Let the aura flames interact with Cosmic Telepathy and Elemental Speed. Feel it, don't force it."

Blaze closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, letting the fiery energy and telepathic awareness merge with the blinding speed coursing through him. His body felt like liquid metal, perfectly balanced between motion and anticipation. He spun, a blur of crimson and shadow, sending a kick so precise it split the holographic targets Jason had set up. The flames responded to his emotions, stabilizing, but only barely. A tremor of doubt ran through him—this was still far from complete mastery.

Anastasia moved closer, her hand brushing his shoulder once again as she steadied him. "You're doing it, Blaze. I can feel it."

The words sent a jolt through him, almost as powerful as the flames themselves. Blaze's eyes met hers briefly, and for the first time, the focus and stress of training merged with a flicker of something more—something warm, intimate, and dangerous. A bond was forming, fragile but undeniable.

Jason clapped his hands, breaking the moment. "Enough. We push harder now. Mini scrimmage. You, Blaze, start on the attacking side with Diego. Everyone else moves as they would in a match. Let's see if you can handle real-time decision-making while controlling the aura flames."

Blaze nodded, stepping into position. The team spread out, and the imaginary opponents became real in his mind—a chaotic mix of defensive lines and aggressive strikers. As the ball rolled to him, he sprinted with Elemental Speed, reading Diego's body language through Cosmic Telepathy. He dodged a sliding tackle from Scarlet, pivoted into a spinning crescent, and launched Jörmungandr with full force. The flames reacted to the kinetic energy, forming arcs around his body and the ball, a spectacular display of martial and elemental power.

Diego caught the ball mid-flight and returned it to Blaze, who spun into Serpent Fang, then flicked it toward Anastasia on the right flank. She intercepted perfectly, flowing past her imaginary marker with leaf-step agility and executed a cross that Blaze caught with a lightning-fast jump. The aura flames wrapped around him like a protective shield, giving him the balance to execute a mid-air volley that would have made spectators gasp.

The ball hit the net. Jason smiled, nodding. "Now we're talking. This is what I mean by harmony—abilities, martial arts, instincts, and teamwork."

The team erupted in applause. Even Scarlet, always competitive, laughed with exhilaration. "I think we just watched a small explosion," she said, gesturing at Blaze's fiery aura.

Blaze's chest heaved. The exertion was enormous, yet there was a strange satisfaction in seeing the flames respond to him, partially under control, partially wild, but undeniably powerful. He glanced at Anastasia, who smiled, her hand still resting on his shoulder. He felt a momentary surge of warmth that grounded him, reminded him why he fought, why he trained, and why he endured the pain of losing his mother.

Jason stepped forward, placing a hand on Blaze's back. "You're not finished yet. You'll never master all three abilities at once, not fully. But you're learning. And today, you've made progress. That's what counts. Your next match… you'll need all of this, plus the mind to stay calm under pressure."

Blaze nodded silently, his aura flames dimming slightly as his body began to cool, the energy settling into a steady glow. Diego clapped him on the back, teasing, "So when do we get to see you throw flames at the Giants' defenders in a real match?"

Blaze chuckled, though faintly, his mind already spinning with the upcoming challenge. "Soon," he said. "Soon."

As the team began their cooldown routines, Blaze stayed a moment longer on the pitch, alone. The flames around him flickered, whispering reminders of power, loss, and responsibility. He thought of his mother, of Anastasia's steady presence, of Jason's guidance, and of the countless hours of training still ahead.

The rain began to fall quietly, tiny droplets hitting the turf, hissing slightly as they brushed against the aura flames. Blaze didn't move. He didn't need to. The storm inside him mirrored the storm outside, a quiet acknowledgment of what he had gained and what he had yet to face. Alone, he allowed himself a moment to simply feel, to breathe, to exist as the Great Blaze—a striker, a fighter, and a young man learning to wield his destiny.

The team's laughter and chatter faded into the distance. Blaze's flames flickered one last time, a small but steady light against the darkening sky. And in that silence, he made a silent promise—to himself, to his teammates, and to the memory of his mother—that he would master his abilities, control the fire within, and rise to become the best striker the world had ever seen.

The rain soaked him, but he didn't care. He was Blaze, and he was just beginning.

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