Chapter Text
"And they're off!"
A voice boomed across the arena as the ball flew high into the air before dropping back toward the field. One of the players moved underneath it and caught the ball on his foot, cushioning its fall before kicking it forward.
"This match has already started at a blistering pace!" the announcer shouted into his microphone. "The Phoenix have possession, and they're pushing everyone forward! They're going all-out on offense!"
The player sprinted across the field with the ball at his feet. But before he could get any farther, an opposing defender came charging straight toward him.
"Oh! Here comes the defense!"
The opposing player raised both hands and began rotating them in a circular motion. A stream of water erupted from his palms, twisting rapidly until it formed the shape of a giant serpent.
"WATER SERPENT!"
The water creature shot across the field toward the attacking player. But the attacker didn't panic. His eyes suddenly began glowing as a reflective forcefield appeared around his body.
The water serpent slammed into the barrier—
BOOM!
The impact sent water spraying in every direction before the serpent rebounded off the barrier and flew straight back toward its creator.
"AND IT BOUNCED BACK!"
The water serpent struck the defender head-on, sending him flying backward before he crashed onto the pitch. The attacker immediately took advantage of the opening.
"He's through! The defense has been broken!"
He continued sprinting toward the goal, but another defender quickly stepped into his path, planting his foot firmly against the turf. The ground beneath them began to glow.
CRACK!
Thick vines burst from the earth and rapidly spread toward the attacker. He tried to dodge, but the vines wrapped around his legs.
"OH! HE'S CAUGHT!"
The vines tightened and lifted him off the ground.
"AND THERE GOES THE BALL!"
The ball dropped free. The defender immediately grabbed it and kicked it forward toward a teammate.
"The Phoenix have lost possession! The opposing team is already turning this into a counterattack!"
A player further up the field saw the ball coming toward her. She stepped forward, caught it cleanly on her boot, and immediately accelerated toward the Phoenix goal.
"WHAT CONTROL!"
The crowd erupted as she raced down the field.
"She's got a clear path! There's only one player standing between her and the goal now!"
The Phoenix goalkeeper lowered himself into position, his eyes locked onto the approaching attacker.
"She's lining up the shot!"
The attacker planted her foot.
"AND SHE SHOOTS!"
She kicked the ball with tremendous force.
FWOOOOSH!
The ball rocketed toward the goal like a missile.
"WHAT POWER!"
But the goalkeeper remained completely calm. He brought his hands together as they began glowing brightly.
"Wait a second..."
He slowly pulled his hands apart.
"WHAT IS THIS?!"
Two enormous glowing hands materialized from his own palms.
"GIANT HANDS!"
The massive hands shot forward toward the incoming ball. The goalkeeper pulled his arms backward, dragging the giant aura hands through the air before thrusting one hand forward.
"HE'S PUSHING IT BACK!"
The giant hand slammed into the ball, stopping it completely in midair. The crowd gasped. The glowing hands slowly lowered the ball toward the goalkeeper before disappearing as he caught it securely in his grip.
"WHAT A SAVE!"
The entire arena erupted.
"THE PHOENIX GOALKEEPER HAS JUST DENIED ONE OF THE HARDEST SHOTS WE'VE SEEN TODAY!"
The goalkeeper quickly tossed the ball back onto the field.
"And we're back underway!" the announcer yelled excitedly as the players rushed after it. "Ladies and gentlemen, if this is how the rest of the match is going to look, we are in for an incredible game!"
"Come on! Come on! Do it!" a nine-year-old John shouted as he stood directly in front of the TV, completely absorbed in the broadcast.
"Come on, John! You're blocking the screen!" eight-year-old Bruce groaned, trying to see around his older brother.
"Yeah, Bruce is right! You're not the only one watching!" seven-year-old Clay complained, sitting down beside him.
"Come on, Clay! You saw how awesome that move was!" John said, pointing excitedly at the screen.
Clay simply rolled his eyes at his older brother. "I would have seen it if you weren't blocking the TV."
John stuck his tongue out at him. Clay immediately stuck his tongue out right back.
"Can you guys keep it down, please? I'm trying to watch," six-year-old Floyd said, shushing his brothers as he lay on the floor, keeping his eyes fixed on the match.
Their grandmother, Rosiepuff, sat nearby, laughing softly as she watched her grandkids argue over the television. Five-year-old Branch sat comfortably on her lap, quietly watching the match with her.
The front door suddenly opened, and their father, Birch, stepped into the house carrying his things. He looked toward the living room and saw all five of his sons gathered around the screen.
"Hey, guys! Dad's home!" he called out.
None of them responded, far too focused on the game to notice he had entered.
Birch blinked. "...Hello?"
Still nothing.
He placed his things down and walked farther into the room. "Guys?"
Silence. Birch stared at his sons in disbelief. "Oh, it seems nobody noticed me."
Rosiepuff covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. Birch walked toward the couch, looking dramatically offended.
Finally, Bruce glanced away from the television. "Oh, hey, Dad. When did you get back?" he asked casually.
Birch crossed his arms and puffed out his cheeks. "Apparently, long enough ago for everyone to completely ignore me."
Rosiepuff couldn't hold back her laughter anymore. "Hahaha! Don't take it personally, Birch. You know how much they love their Spark Ball."
Birch looked at the television before glancing back at his sons. "I can see that."
John suddenly jumped up in excitement. "YES! DID YOU SEE THAT?!"
Birch sighed. "...Yep. Definitely ignored."
"Grandma?"
Rosiepuff looked down at Branch, who was still sitting comfortably on her lap. "Hmm?"
Branch looked up at her with big, curious eyes. "Do you think that one day I could be a Spark Ball player?"
Rosiepuff's expression softened. She glanced toward Birch, who offered a warm, silent nod. Rosiepuff turned her attention back to Branch and smiled gently.
"Yeah," she said softly. "I think you can."
She gently pressed her forehead against his. "If you put your mind to it, you can do anything." She kissed the top of his head, making Branch giggle. "Yeah!"
John suddenly jumped to his feet. "We can ALL be Spark Ball players!"
The other brothers perked up at the idea.
"Yeah! We can be a team!" Bruce said excitedly.
"Yeah, but what would our team be called?" Clay asked, putting a hand to his chin.
"Oh! Oh! I know!" Floyd exclaimed from his spot on the floor. Everyone looked at him. "What about... BroZone?"
"BroZone?" John repeated, thinking it over before nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah! That sounds awesome!"
The others nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, I kind of like it," Clay said.
Bruce nodded beside him. "Me too."
"Okay, then it's decided!" John announced, placing his hands on his hips. "When we become Spark Ball players, we'll form a team—and we'll call ourselves BroZone!"
He held out his hand toward his brothers. "What do you say?"
"Oh, heck yeah! Let's do it!" Clay exclaimed, placing his hand on top of John's.
Bruce shrugged before adding his hand to the pile. "Yeah. Sounds like fun."
Floyd quickly jumped to his feet and hurried over. "Yeah! I'm in! This is going to be awesome!" He placed his hand on top of theirs.
The brothers then looked toward Branch, who was still sitting on Rosiepuff's lap, watching them. A small smile appeared on his face as he reached forward and placed his little hand on top of the pile.
"Yeah. Let's do it."
Rosiepuff watched them with a warm smile, exchanging a glance with Birch. Birch smiled as well, a hint of tender uncertainty in his eyes as he watched his sons excitedly chatter about their dream.
The five brothers didn't care what obstacles the future held. All they knew was that they wanted to become great Spark Ball players—and they wanted to do it together.
~
9 Years Later
"Branch! I need your help carrying some boxes inside!"
John stood by the open back door of the family store, pointing over his shoulder toward the stacks of inventory outside.
"Coming!" Branch set down the crate he was holding and followed his older brother outside.
Branch stopped and stared at the towering stacks. "Wow... that's a lot of boxes."
"Yeah, there sure is," John said with a laugh, picking one up. "I'll carry this one. Think you can handle that one?"
"Got it," Branch replied, grabbing a heavy box.
The two brothers carried the delivery inside. The store was busy as usual. Bruce was helping mop the floors while Clay organized products on the shelves. Nearby, Floyd helped Birch at the cash register, ringing up groceries for customers.
"Hey, Dad!" John called out. "Where should we put these?"
Birch looked over from the register. "Just put them in the corner. I'll deal with them later."
John and Branch carefully set the boxes down. John wiped his forehead while Branch stretched his arms.
Bruce leaned against his broom, eyeing the stack. "Wow. That's a lot of boxes."
"Yeah," John said. "Dad decided to order a whole batch of men's body spray."
Birch immediately looked over. "Hey! They were on sale! Besides, they sell really well!"
Floyd snickered as he handed a receipt to a customer. "That's one way to convince people how you smell."
Branch burst out laughing, prompting Birch to turn around and give him a playful glare. Branch tried to hold it back, but John and Bruce joined in, and soon even Floyd couldn't stop laughing.
Birch sighed, shaking his head with a affectionate smile. "You boys are hilarious."
As the laughter settled, Clay called out, "Hey, Branch, come help me restock the shelves."
"On my way." Branch walked over and began helping Clay arrange products.
As he worked, something on the shop's television caught Branch's attention. The screen was broadcasting the final moments of a professional Spark Ball match.
"And with that, the Executioners secure yet another victory!" the reporter announced excitedly. "Once again, they have shown everyone why they are considered the top team in all of Spark Ball!"
The camera cut to the Executioners walking off the pitch toward the tunnel. At the front of the group was their captain and star player, Silver Hurl Cold silver-gray colored troll with Near-black hair and Deep navy blue eyes. He walked with a hard, cold expression, barely acknowledging the roaring crowd as he led his team away.
Branch stared at the screen. There was something about the way Silver Hurl carried himself—intimidating, immensely confident, and cold.
"Branch!"
Branch snapped out of his thoughts.
"The shelves," Clay reminded him gently.
Branch looked back at his hands, realizing he had stopped mid-motion. "Oh... sorry."
He turned back to the shelves, though his eyes occasionally drifted back toward the broadcast.
~
Later that evening, the sun had set, and the brothers were helping clean up the shop as Birch served the last customer.
"And here you go. Thanks for stopping by!" Birch handed over a bag of groceries with a warm smile.
He watched the customer leave before letting out a tired sigh. Stepping around the counter, he walked over to the front door, flipped the sign from OPEN to CLOSED, and turned to face his sons.
"Okay, guys! I'm going to handle closing up tonight, so you boys are free for the evening."
The five brothers exchanged excited glances.
"Really?" John asked.
Birch nodded. "Really."
Without another word, the brothers dropped whatever they were holding and dashed toward the exit.
"YES!" Floyd practically vaulting over the counter to catch up. "Wait for me!"
John grabbed a worn Spark Ball from behind a shelf as he sprinted past. "Come on, guys!"
Birch laughed as his sons rushed out the door, watching them disappear down the street before the door swung shut. His smile softened, his eyes drifting toward a framed photograph on the counter.
It was a picture of his late wife. Birch walked over, picked it up, and gently brushed his thumb across the glass.
"They have the exact same fire as you," he whispered softly, letting out a quiet sigh before setting it back down.
~
Outside, the brothers raced down the street, laughing as they passed the ball between themselves.
"Pass it!" John kicked the ball toward Bruce, who cushioned it on his foot before flicking it to Clay. Clay quickly sent a low pass toward Floyd, who chased it down with a laugh.
"Hey! Wait up!"
Branch ran alongside them, smiling as they moved in sync. They didn't have a professional stadium, official uniforms, or their magical Sparks yet—but none of that mattered. They were just five brothers playing the game they loved, keeping a childhood dream alive.
They soon reached an open clearing on the outskirts of town—their usual spot to play.
As they approached, they spotted two pink trolls standing in the middle of the field. The two girls looked up, their faces immediately lighting up.
"Hey, guys!" they shouted, waving as they ran over.
The younger of the two, Poppy, ran straight toward Branch.
"Whoa—" Before Branch could react, Poppy picked him up and pulled him into a tight hug.
"Hi, Poppy," Branch wheezed out.
Poppy set him back down, and Branch stumbled slightly, catching his breath while his brothers burst out laughing.
Poppy placed her hands on her hips, pouting playfully. "What took you guys so long? We've been waiting forever!"
Branch chuckled. "I can see that."
He glanced over at Clay and laughed harder—Viva had done the exact same thing to Clay, who was currently hanging limply in her arms.
"Viva, can you let me down, please?" Clay wheezed.
Viva laughed, setting him down gently. "What took you guys so long?"
"Dad kept us at the shop a bit longer tonight," John explained as they walked onto the pitch.
"Well, now that you're here, we can finally start!" Poppy cheered, bouncing on her heels.
"You mean we can play while you two watch?" Branch teased with a raised eyebrow.
Poppy offered an innocent smile. "Yeah! It's fun watching you guys play."
Viva nodded. "Besides, you guys are getting really good."
Clay grinned. "Pretty good, huh?"
Poppy and Viva took their seats on a nearby bench while the five brothers took their places on the grass. After a brief discussion, they settled into their usual positions: Bruce and Clay on defense, Branch and Floyd up front on attack, and John in goal.
John stepped onto the line and clapped his hands together. "Alright! Let me see what you guys have got!"
Branch bounced the ball once before setting it down. "Let's see who wins this time."
Floyd grinned. "Hopefully us."
The match kicked off. Branch tapped the ball to Floyd, who controlled it and sprinted forward. Clay stepped up to block his path, but Floyd shifted deftly to the side—only for Bruce to step in and strip the ball cleanly away.
"Got it!" Bruce turned to launch a counterattack, but Branch rushed up from behind, stealing the ball back and flicking a pass to Floyd.
Floyd caught it on the run and fired a shot toward the net.
"Not today!" John dove to his left, catching the ball cleanly in midair before rolling to his feet and throwing it out to Clay.
For twenty minutes, the brothers played back and forth, trading possession, making tackles, and testing John in goal. Eventually, Floyd managed to break free from Clay's mark and spotted Branch making a run toward the box.
"Branch!" Floyd chipped the ball over Bruce's head.
Branch brought it down with his chest, took one touch to set himself, and struck it with everything he had.
"GO!"
The ball rocketed toward the top corner. John dove at full stretch, but the shot flew past his fingers and slammed into the back of the net.
"GOOOOOAL!" Branch and Floyd shouted, meeting in the middle for a high-five.
From the sidelines, Poppy and Viva cheered wildly.
"Nice shot, Bitty!" John called out, retrieving the ball from the net with a proud grin. "But don't expect the next one to go in that easily!"
He tossed the ball back to the center circle. The game continued late into the evening, illuminated only by the faint twilight. None of them noticed a quiet figure watching them thoughtfully from the shadow of the trees.
~
Later that night, Birch was placing plates of dinner on the table as his sons tumbled through the front door, still buzzing with energy from their match.
"How was the game?" Birch asked with a smile.
"It was awesome! We were on fire today!" Floyd said, taking his seat.
"Yeah! We're getting better every day. Heck, we might even turn pro one day!" John added, digging into his food.
Birch smiled softly, watching his sons eat and banter. As he ate, the living room television broadcasted an incoming sports update:
"And now for some breaking news! Tomorrow morning at Pop Town's central stadium, the Executioners will be playing a special exhibition match against our very own local team, the Snack Park!"
The brothers immediately turned toward the screen.
"Oh, wow! That sounds incredible!" Floyd exclaimed.
"The Executioners—the number one team in the entire league—are playing right here in our town?!" Bruce said, wide-eyed.
"Man, I wish we could go see it," Branch muttered, looking down at his plate.
Birch watched them for a moment before reaching into his apron pocket with a knowing smile.
"Well... about that," Birch said quietly.
All five brothers turned to look at him.
Birch pulled his hand out. "Tada!"
He held up five glossy tickets. "The Executioners versus Snack Parkers. Tomorrow morning."
Silence fell over the table for one second—and then the room exploded into cheers.
"NO WAY!" Floyd yelled.
"You got us tickets?!" Bruce shouted.
Birch handed each of his sons a ticket as they cheered, staring at the golden passes in utter disbelief.
"Wait... there are only five tickets," Floyd noticed, looking at his father. "Where's yours?"
Birch waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about me. You know I'm not much of a Spark Ball fan. Besides, I have to run the store tomorrow."
He walked over, wrapping his arms around John and Branch's shoulders. "I know how much this match means to you boys. Don't let your old man hold you back. Go have fun."
The brothers hugged him tight before breaking out into excited chatter about what strategies they might see the pros use. Birch chuckled warmly, returning to his meal as he listened to their voices fill the house.
~
The next morning, Birch was lacing up his boots to open the shop when a thunderous stampede echoed down the stairs.
His five sons practically tumbled over one another in a frantic race toward the front door. Birch quickly stepped aside as they bolted past.
"Bye, Dad! Thanks again!" they shouted in unison, sprinting down the street toward the stadium.
Birch stepped out onto the porch, watching them vanish around the corner. He shook his head with an amused smile, pulling his coat tight against the morning breeze.
"Those boys..." he muttered softly, turning to head toward the family store with a happy heart.
The five brothers walked down the street together, chatting excitedly as they made their way toward the stadium.
As they reached the end of the boulevard, they looked up and immediately froze in their tracks. Standing before them was the towering, grand facade of the Pop Town Spark Ball Stadium.
"Whoa..." all five brothers breathed in absolute amazement.
They walked closer, taking in the massive crowd gathered around the main entrance. Trolls from every district in town had turned out to witness the highly anticipated exhibition match.
"That's a lot of trolls," Clay said, looking around at the ocean of fans.
John stepped forward, gesturing over his shoulder. "Come on, guys. Let's get in line."
The others followed closely behind him. As they waited eagerly near the gates, a sudden wave of gasps rippled through the surrounding crowd. The brothers turned around to see a sleek, dark team bus pulling up directly in front of the stadium's red carpet.
The moment the doors hissed open, the crowd erupted into a frenzy.
"They're here!" someone screamed.
Fanatical cheers echoed off the stadium walls as the Executioners stepped off the bus. The reigning champion team strode past the fans toward the VIP entrance, flanked by a heavy security escort.
"The Executioners..." Clay whispered in awe, watching them walk by.
As the players marched past, Silver Hurl kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, cold and unreadable. But then, for just a fraction of a second, his eyes shifted toward the crowd—locking directly onto Branch.
Branch stared straight back at him. Their eyes met, locking together in a quiet, intense beat. Neither uttered a word.
After a moment, Silver turned his eyes forward again and disappeared through the reinforced doors.
Branch kept staring after him until he felt a firm hand rest on his shoulder. He looked up to see John standing behind him.
"Come on, Bitty. They're letting people through the turnstiles," John said softly.
Branch glanced toward the main entrance, cast one last look back at the VIP corridor, and then nodded, following his brothers inside.
The second they stepped into the main arena, all five brothers stopped dead in their tracks.
"Whoa..."
"This place is massive!" Bruce gasped.
The entire arena featured an intricate forest-themed aesthetic. Enormous, flowering vines wrapped around the massive stone pillars behind the grandstands, while glowing flora stretched along the walls encircling the pitch. The field itself was staggering—far larger and more pristine than any pitch the brothers had ever played on.
John took a deep breath, shaking off the awe before turning to the group. "Come on, let's find our seats before the opening ceremony starts."
The brothers navigated through the packed corridors until they finally found their row. Settling into their seats, they looked down at the massive green pitch below.
"Hey, guys!"
The brothers turned to see Poppy and Viva hurrying down the aisle toward them.
"Poppy! Viva! What are you two doing here?" Branch asked, blinking in surprise.
"Our dad got us tickets for the match!" Poppy beamed, sliding right into the seat beside Branch. "We were with him when we spotted you guys down here, so we asked if we could sit together!" She pointed down the row.
The brothers looked over to see Peppy sitting a few seats down, offering them a warm smile and a friendly wave. The brothers waved back politely as Viva took her seat beside Clay.
"Looks like the whole crew's here," Bruce grinned.
Suddenly, the stadium speakers crackled to life. High-energy music surged through the sound system, sending a wave of electric anticipation through the thousands of cheering spectators.
"Oh! It's about to start!" Viva squealed, excitedly grabbing Clay by the shoulders and shaking him back and forth.
Clay laughed, his cheeks turning pink as he looked back down at the field.
The arena lights dimmed dramatically as the massive jumbotron hovering above the center pitch flared to life. The announcer's voice boomed across the stadium:
"WELCOME, EVERYONE!"
The crowd erupted into a deafening cheer.
"Today, we have an incredible exhibition match between our very own hometown heroes—the Snack Park—and the reigning number-one team in all of Spark Ball..."
The Executioners' dark, razor-sharp emblem flashed across the giant screen.
"...THE EXECUTIONERS!"
The stadium roared. The brothers, Poppy, and Viva cheered along with the crowd as the announcer continued:
"THE MATCH IS ABOUT TO BEGIN!"
Bright spotlights flared over the home tunnel as the Snack Parkers strode out onto the pitch.
"First, give it up for our hometown team! THE SNACK PARK!"
Biggie waved enthusiastically to the crowd as he stepped onto the grass. Satin and Chenille struck a joint pose, flipping their hair to the roaring fans, while Smidge aggressively flexed her muscles in her full goalkeeper gear. At the front of the line, their captain, Creek, offered a serene, polished wave to the stands.
"And now..." the announcer's tone shifted into something far darker, far more dramatic. The lights cut to pure crimson over the visitor's tunnel. "Let us introduce their opponents! The strongest of the strong! The absolute best in the league! Give it up for... THE EXECUTIONERS!"
The Executioners emerged from the dark tunnel.
Unlike the home team, they didn't wave or smile. They marched forward with cold, predatory discipline, completely indifferent to the thousands of roaring fans around them.
The two teams assembled at the center line, lining up face-to-face as the referee stepped between them.
"Captains, please step forward for the coin toss," the official instructed.
Creek and Silver Hurl stepped out from their respective lines. They stood nose-to-nose. Creek smiled politely, extending a hand.
"Greetings, mate. I'm Creek Cinder. It's an absolute pleasure to share the pitch with a player of your caliber today."
Creek held his hand out, his smile perfectly composed.
Silver stared down at the offered hand. The entire stadium grew noticeably quiet, thousands of eyes fixed on the exchange.
Silver slowly reached out. For a split second, it appeared he was going to accept the gesture.
SMACK!
Silver violently slapped Creek's hand aside.
A collective gasp echoed through the stands. Creek's eyes widened slightly in surprise as Silver leaned in close, his gaze icy.
"I don't shake hands with weaklings," Silver stated coldly.
Creek remained quiet, his smile faltering.
Silver took a step closer, his voice carrying clearly through the stillness of the center circle. "Spark Ball isn't a game. It isn't about stepping onto a field, kicking a ball around, and pretending you belong here." He cast a dismissive glance toward the rest of the Snack Parkers. "Strength. Precision. Absolute dominance. That is what separates real players from pathetic amateurs."
Silver turned his cold eyes back to Creek. "If you don't have what it takes to compete at the peak, you don't deserve to breathe the same air as those who do. The weak can play among themselves all they want... but when you step onto the pitch with the strong..."
Silver leaned past his ear, whispering darkly, "...you had better remember your place."
Silver turned on his heel and walked back to his formation. The rest of the Executioners followed without a word.
Creek stood at the center line for a long moment, staring down at his reddened hand. He slowly lowered it, smoothed his uniform, and turned back to his team without a word.
The announcer cleared his throat over the broadcast line. "Well... that was certainly a tense pre-game exchange! Silver Hurl has made his stance crystal clear—the number-one team in the league is NOT here to play friendly!"
The referee blew a sharp warning blast on his whistle, signaling for both squads to take their kickoff positions.
"And with that... THE MATCH IS UNDERWAY!"
FWEET!
The whistle shrieked.
"AND WE'RE OFF!"
The Snack Parkers kicked off immediately, mounting a fast, coordinated push straight down the pitch.
"Satin takes the ball on the wing! She's looking for an option... AND SENDS A CLEAN PASS TO CHENILLE!"
Chenille trapped the ball effortlessly on the move, accelerating toward the attacking third. "I'm through!"
"Chenille is pushing hard! But the Executioners' defense is closing in fast!"
Suddenly—
WHOOSH!
A dark blur tore across the grass at impossible speed.
"WAIT! WHAT WAS THAT?!"
Silver Hurl materialized in front of Chenille in the blink of an eye. Before she could even adjust her stride, Silver cleanly picked her pocket, stripping the ball with terrifying precision.
"UNBELIEVABLE! SILVER HURL STRIKES WITH LIGHTNING SPEED!"
Without missing a beat, Silver flipped the momentum, driving straight down the center channel. He weaved through the Snack Parkers' midfield as if they were standing still.
"Silver is slicing through the defense like a hot knife through butter!" the announcer screamed. "The Snack Park can't even touch him!"
Reaching the edge of the penalty box, Silver planted his foot, flicking the ball into the air. The ball spun violently as dark, crackling energy erupted around its surface.
Silver drew his leg back, striking the airborne ball with immense force.
BOOM!
"DARK BLAZE STRIKE!"
The ball rocketed toward the goal like a meteor, trailing dark flames across the turf. Smidge barely had time to react—the shot tore past her ear and slammed into the back of the net with a deafening THUD!
FWEET!
"GOOOOOAL! THE EXECUTIONERS DRAW FIRST BLOOD IN UNDER THIRTY SECONDS!"
Smidge stood frozen, smoke rising off the charred netting behind her. She slowly turned to look at Silver.
Silver stood twenty yards back, staring at her with cold indifference. "Like I said," he muttered quietly, "know your place."
The match restarted, but the Executioners showed zero mercy. They controlled the tempo, pressing high and suffocating every play the Snack Parkers tried to build.
Minutes later, an Executioner winger broke down the flank. Biggie stepped up to meet her, spreading his arms wide.
"BLOOM DOOM!"
Giant, glowing floral buds sprouted across the grass, blocking the winger's path.
"Biggie cuts off the sideline with Bloom Doom!"
The Executioner player sprinted straight into the floral patch without slowing down.
POP! POP! POP!
The flowers exploded into dense clouds of colorful smoke. Biggie grinned. "Gotcha!"
Suddenly, multiple shadowy figures burst out of the smoke screen simultaneously. Biggie blinked in utter confusion as four identical copies of the Executioner player began circling him, passing the ball back and forth between them in a dizzying blur.
"Which one is real?!" Biggie yelled, his head spinning in circles. "Whoa... I'm gonna throw up!"
The real player slipped right past his flank, and the illusions vanished into thin air.
"SHE'S THROUGH TO THE BOX!"
She struck the ball clean and hard. Smidge dove at full stretch, but the ball rocketed into the top corner.
THUD!
FWEET!
"GOOOOOAL! TWO-ZERO EXECUTIONERS!"
By the time the clock ticked toward halftime, the scoreboard read a brutal EXECUTIONERS 5 — SNACK PARK 0.
Yet, the Snack Parkers refused to surrender.
Satin drove up the left wing, her lungs burning. "Chenille, I need an outlet!"
An Executioner defender stepped into her path, opening his jaw wide. A thick, ink-black fog poured from his mouth, swallowing Satin in complete darkness.
"I can't see!" Satin gasped, coughing as the smoke blinded her.
Outside the cloud, Chenille's hand flared with bright light. She thrust her arm forward, her hair extending like a glowing tow-rope straight into the mist. "Satin, grab on!"
Satin caught the glowing hair, and Chenille yanked her sister clear of the trap. Satin kept her footing, looked upfield, and spotted Creek making a diagonal run.
"CREEK! TAKE IT!" Satin launched a high cross over the defense.
Creek tracked the ball's flight. "I've got it!"
Silver Hurl charged the falling ball from the opposite side, launching himself into the air to intercept. "Not on my pitch!"
Creek leapt right alongside him, swinging his leg through the air with razor-sharp focus.
WHOOSH!
A visible crescent blade of compressed air erupted from his kick!
"WIND CUT!"
BOOM!
The wind slash struck Silver midair, throwing him off balance and knocking him backward to the turf. Creek landed smoothly, brought the ball under control on his chest, and drove toward the net.
"HE GOT IT! CREEK STRIPS THE CHAMPION MIDAIR!" the announcer screamed.
Creek popped the ball over his head, leaping high into the air after it. He swung his right leg—
WHOOSH!
A wind blade launched the ball forward! Before it could travel three feet, Creek struck it again with his left leg!
WHOOSH!
"CROSS CUT!"
The two wind blades intersected into a glowing X, driving the ball toward the net at terrifying speed!
The Executioner goalkeeper leapt to intercept, but the shifting air currents threw off his timing entirely. The ball blasted right between his hands!
THUD!
The net bulged violently.
The entire stadium went dead silent for one second—
FWEET!
"GOOOOOOOOOAL!"
The arena erupted into absolute madness!
"CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?! THE SNACK PARK GET ON THE BOARD! CREEK BREAKS THROUGH THE EXECUTIONERS' IMPENETRABLE WALL!"
The Snack Park crowded around Creek, cheering and high-fiving. "We did it!" Satin cheered.
Creek smiled smoothly, turning his head as Silver Hurl slowly pushed himself off the grass. Creek walked past him, offering a cool, composed grin.
"I guess I'm not as weak as you thought after all, mate."
Silver stood frozen. His jaw tightened so hard his teeth ground together.
SLAM!
Silver drove his fist violently into the turf. His eyes flared with a dark, terrifying aura.
The referee blew his whistle to signal the restart. "Executioners, prepare for kickoff—"
Before the official could finish the sentence—
WHOOSH!
Silver Hurl charged forward before the whistle, snatching the ball off the center dot and sprinting straight at the Snack Parkers' defense like a runaway freight train!
"WAIT! SILVER HAS TAKEN THE BALL! THE MATCH HASN'T EVEN RESTARTED!"
Dark, volatile energy radiated off Silver's body as his speed doubled, the grass singing beneath his boots.
"He's charging the pitch alone! He looks completely untamed!"
The Snack Parkers scrambled back in panic. "STOP HIM!"
Silver's expression was pure, unadulterated fury. He didn't care about the rules anymore. He didn't care about the exhibition.
He was going to crush them into the dirt.
Branch watched Silver as he continued charging across the field.
Then something caught his attention. He looked down at Silver's feet—dark flames were beginning to form beneath them.
Branch's eyes widened as recognition hit him like a physical blow. He remembered watching the Executioners' match the previous day.
"He's going to use... Dark Dragon Roar," Branch whispered.
His brothers looked at him. "What are you—"
Before Bruce could finish, Branch suddenly stood up and began pushing through the bleachers.
"Branch, wait!" John called out, immediately standing up to follow. The others hurried right behind him.
Branch pushed through the crowded rows of spectators until he reached the stairs, sprinting down them at top speed.
"Branch!" John shouted, struggling to keep up with his younger brother.
Reaching the bottom of the stands, Branch spotted the referee standing near the corner flag.
"Hey! Hey!" Branch called out frantically.
The referee glanced over. "What's wrong, kid?"
"Silver's about to use Dark Dragon Roar! Smidge won't be able to handle it!" Branch explained, pointing wildly toward the field.
The referee gave Silver a passing glance before dismissively waving Branch away. "Beat it, kid. He's allowed to use whatever move he wants."
"But—"
The referee turned his back, completely ignoring him.
Branch looked back toward the field; Silver was closing in on the goal at a terrifying pace.
"Branch!"
His brothers finally caught up, all of them breathing heavily.
"Branch, what are you doing? You can't just run off like that!" Floyd panted.
Clay nodded aggressively. "Yeah! You can't just go running down to the pitch whenever you feel like it!"
Branch didn't answer. His eyes remained locked on Silver.
Then, without warning, Branch vaulted over the security railing.
"BRANCH!"
He landed on the grass and immediately sprinted straight toward Silver.
"Hey! Stop him!"
The referee turned around in shock as two security guards rushed toward Branch, tackling him before he could get any farther.
"Let me go!" Branch struggled against their grip. "Stop! You don't understand! He's going to use Dark Dragon Roar!"
"Branch!" his brothers yelled.
John, Bruce, Clay, and Floyd jumped over the railing after him.
"Stop right there!" More security guards rushed over, wrestling the brothers to keep them from reaching Branch.
"Let him go!"
"Branch!"
~
Meanwhile, back at the family store, Birch stood behind the counter, helping an elderly troll pack her groceries into a brown bag.
"Here you go, Miss Dandelion. That's everything."
"Thank you, dear," she said, taking the bag before reaching into her purse and handing Birch the money. Birch placed the cash into the register and handed her the change.
Miss Dandelion looked around the quiet shop. "It's awfully quiet today. Where are all the boys?"
"Oh, they went to that Spark Ball match at the stadium," Birch replied with a quiet chuckle. "It's nice having a little peace and quiet around here for once."
The two shared a small laugh before another customer near the entrance called out, "Umm... Birch?"
Birch looked over. The troll was staring at the small television mounted in the corner.
"Isn't that your boys up there?"
Birch turned toward the screen, and his eyes widened. The live broadcast showed his sons at the stadium, currently being restrained by a squad of security guards.
"What...?"
Birch stared at the screen in utter shock before his expression hardened. He rounded the counter in an instant.
"I'll be back!"
Birch burst out of the store, sprinting down the street at full speed toward the stadium.
~
Back inside the stadium, Silver closed in on the box, dark flames swirling wildly around his feet.
"Silver is closing in!" the announcer screamed over the sound system.
Smidge dug her boots into the grass, gritting her teeth. "Come on...!"
Silver kicked the ball upward, making it spin rapidly in midair as dark flames erupted around it. The swirling fire expanded exponentially, swallowing the ball whole.
Branch's eyes widened in horror. "No..."
Silver's eyes flared as he struck the spinning fireball with brutal force.
"DARK DRAGON ROAR!"
BOOOOOOM!
The ball shot forward like a meteor. Black flames exploded from the impact, twisting together to form the shape of a colossal dark dragon. The creature opened its jaws, letting out a deafening roar that shook the entire stadium as it charged toward the net.
Smidge knocked her knuckles together, her eyes blazing with energy.
"SPECTRA GIANT!"
A gigantic spectral image of herself materialized around her body, towering over the goal as she braced to block the incoming strike.
As the Dark Dragon drew closer, however, Smidge's confidence crumbled. The sheer, overwhelming power radiating from the attack was suffocating.
"This... might be too much," she muttered under her breath.
The Dark Dragon tore through the air, its jaws open wide.
Branch struggled desperately against the guards holding him down. "Let me go!" He watched the massive shadow of the dragon loom over the net. "No!"
His pulse spiked. "NO!"
In that moment, something deep inside Branch snapped. A strange, burning sensation ignited in his chest and spread rapidly through his veins. He clutched his stomach, letting out a choked gasp.
"Ah...!"
His breathing turned ragged as an ancient, dormant power stirred within him.
"Branch!" Floyd yelled, trying to twist out of the guard's grip.
"Branch!" John roared, throwing his shoulder into two guards who were struggling to restrain him.
Branch's head snapped upward. His eyes glowed a brilliant, blinding scarlet, and sparks of red fire began leaking from his skin.
The guards holding him froze. "Uh..."
WHOOSH!
A massive burst of scarlet fire erupted around Branch. The shockwave blasted the guards backward, freeing him and his brothers instantly.
Branch didn't hesitate.
BOOM!
Enveloped in a mantle of blazing scarlet flames, Branch accelerated across the pitch at blinding speed.
"BRANCH!" John screamed.
Branch charged ahead, his scarlet gaze locked onto the Dark Dragon.
Smidge stood frozen as the creature closed the final gap. Then—
WHOOSH!
Branch materialized directly in front of her.
Smidge's eyes went wide. "What?!"
Branch placed himself squarely between her and the apocalyptic strike, his entire body radiating white-hot scarlet flames. Behind him, the fire flared upward, shaping itself into a massive silhouette.
Silver stared in absolute disbelief. "What...?"
The Dark Dragon rushed toward them, jaws wide open around the ball. Branch didn't flinch. He planted his support foot and drew his leg back.
BOOOOOOM!
Branch struck the ball with every ounce of strength he possessed.
The moment his boot hit the ball, an incredible explosion of scarlet fire detonated across the field. The blinding flash illuminated the entire stadium, forcing thousands of spectators to cover their eyes.
"What was that?!"
"Whoa!"
The deafening boom echoed off the concrete walls. As the blinding light slowly dissipated, everyone lowered their hands and looked up.
Their jaws dropped.
High above the stadium, a majestic, scarlet-red dragon constructed of pure flame soared through the sky. Its massive wings stretched across the width of the arena, casting a warm crimson glow over the stunned crowd below.
The dragon opened its jaws and let out a mighty ROOOOOOOAR! that rattled the structural beams of the stadium.
~
Several blocks away, Birch skidded to a halt in the middle of the street and looked up.
His eyes widened in shock. The massive Scarlet Dragon was clearly visible above the stadium roofline. Another distant, thunderous roar echoed across the city.
Birch stared at the flaming specter, horror washing over his face.
"Oh no..."
He broke into a desperate sprint, pushing himself even faster toward the stadium.
~
Inside the arena, a dead silence fell over the crowd. Nobody moved; nobody spoke. Everyone simply stared in awe at the fiery beast circling above.
The brothers slowly turned their gazes down from the sky, locking their eyes on their youngest brother.
"Branch..."
Branch stood in the center of the pitch. The grass beneath him was scorched black, and a small crater had formed where he had planted his foot. Scarlet embers drifted off his body, and his eyes continued to hum with bright crimson energy.
The Snack Park stood frozen on one side of the field; the Executioners stood paralyzed on the other.
Silver stared at Branch, his usual cold, arrogant posture completely shattered. He couldn't wrap his mind around what he had just witnessed.
As the Scarlet Dragon continued its fiery flight through the clouds, a mysterious troll stepped out from the darkness of the main player tunnel. He looked down at Branch, a subtle, knowing smile spreading across his face.
"Well..." he murmured, watching the dragon let out one final, sky-shaking roar. "It seems a new Scarlet Striker has been born."