The court vibrated with tension, shadows and sparks dancing like living creatures.
Riku's pulse raced, each beat synced with Lira's energy. Level Four Phantom Zone, she whispered in his mind. Ready?
"Always," he muttered.
Iris hovered, afterimages flickering around her like shards of lightning. Every movement radiated speed; the air itself crackled with electricity. She grinned. "Let's see if you can handle this."
She dashed forward, disappearing in a streak of silver-blue. The afterimages multiplied — fifteen, twenty, impossible to track.
Riku's shadows split instantly, stretching in every direction, merging with Lira's phantom doubles. They moved independently, each reacting to a micro-motion of Iris's body.
Lightning struck. Shadows flared. Sparks flew.
The first clash: Riku pivoted midair, bouncing the ball off a shard, feinting an attack to the left. Iris twisted, a whip of electricity snapping toward the ball.
Bam!
The ball grazed the rim — almost lost — but a shadow double caught it and redirected.
Point 3 — Phantom.
Iris's eyes narrowed. She blinked, leaving five afterimages in a line, each performing a different dribble pattern to confuse him.
Riku gritted his teeth, activating a Phantom Zone spin. Ten doubles fanned out in perfect rhythm, bouncing, pivoting, twisting. He moved like smoke, each step a calculated dodge.
She leapt — a pure blur — shooting the ball mid-air, afterimages trailing lightning.
Point 4 — Iris.
The scoreboard now: Iris 4 — Riku 3.
---
The next minute was chaos incarnate.
Iris used Volt Tempest — a combination of afterimages and raw electricity. Sparks lit up the arena; shards floated unnaturally, bending the court.
Riku's shadows flickered, almost overwhelmed, but he synced deeper with Lira — a faint purple aura erupting around him. Every move was mirrored, delayed by milliseconds, perfectly timed.
He launched the ball in a shadow arc. Iris attempted to intercept, snapping a lightning whip — it collided midair. Sparks, energy, and shadows collided, scattering shards across the court.
Point 4 — Phantom.
The scoreboard: Tied — 4–4.
---
Sweat dripped down both their faces. Energy arced in visible waves, black and blue colliding in midair.
Iris blinked. "You're fast… but can you survive this final exchange?"
Riku smirked. "Not just survive. I'll win."
They lunged simultaneously — impossible speed. Court shards cracked, sparks flying like fireworks. Shadow doubles twisted, afterimages collided, and the real players spun, dodged, and attacked with unmatched precision.
A spinning midair flick. A rebound off a shard. A redirect, an interception.
The ball soared, arcing high, twisting through afterimages and shadows alike.
Swish!
Point 5 — Phantom. Final Score: Riku 5 — Iris 4.
---
Iris landed, breathing heavily, sparks fading from her arms. Her grin was wide and genuine. "Hah… finally, someone who can match me."
Riku exhaled, sweat dripping. "Good game. Could've gone either way."
Lira hovered behind him, wings flaring faintly. "You pushed yourself dangerously close to the limit."
"Worth it," he said.
---
The scoreboard above glowed:
> WINNER: RIKU VANE — ADVANCES IN THE SOUL ACADEMY DRAFT
The crowd erupted — students, phantoms, and spirits alike. Riku's name echoed across the stadium.
Above, Nyra's golden eyes gleamed. "Interesting… The Phantom Dribbler is climbing faster than expected."
Three shadowed figures behind her nodded silently. "Prepare the next wave," one whispered. "If he keeps advancing at this rate, the Soul League's hierarchy will tremble."
Riku caught his breath, looking at Lira with a faint smile. "Next match?"
She tilted her head. "Always."
The draft was just beginning — the true tests were about to hit harder, faster, and deadlier than anything he had faced before.
To be continued...