The Soul Arena fell silent.
No sparks. No cheers. Only a slow, rhythmic hum — like the air itself was waiting.
Riku stepped onto the court, shadows rippling beneath his sneakers. Lira's voice brushed his thoughts. Something feels wrong. The court's pressure… it's heavier.
He rolled his shoulders, bouncing the ball once. Yeah. Like walking through water.
Across the court stood a tall, stone-faced boy with gray eyes and a gravity symbol etched into his left palm. A faint shimmer warped the space around him — the floor bending, the air curving.
"Gravon Dace," Kaori murmured from the sidelines. "Rank #4 in the academy. They call him the Gravity King."
The referee lifted a trembling whistle. "Begin!"
The sound didn't echo — it collapsed, crushed flat by the air.
Riku blinked. The ball felt twice as heavy. His muscles protested as he dribbled once. Gravity wasn't just pulling down — it was pushing inward, like invisible hands squeezing from all sides.
Gravon raised his hand slightly. The lines on his palm glowed dark red. "Don't fight the pull, Phantom," he said calmly. "You'll only fall faster."
He flicked his wrist. The court rippled like liquid metal.
The ball ripped from Riku's hands and floated upward, then slammed down, burying itself into the floor with a deafening boom.
Gasps erupted from the crowd. The floor cratered where the ball had hit.
Riku staggered back. He can change local gravity vectors. He doesn't just increase weight — he controls direction.
Adapt, Lira urged. Use the shards — lighter ground pockets.
Riku nodded slightly, shadows slipping from his feet into the cracks. He crouched, then dashed — every movement slower than usual, as if time itself was thicker.
Gravon didn't even move. His spirit, a massive armored titan called Obel, appeared behind him, its form composed of swirling debris and compressed force. Each breath it took distorted the air.
Riku faked left — the court tilted left. He tried to leap — the gravity doubled, dragging him down. His knee hit the floor hard. Pain shot up his leg.
Gravon's monotone voice echoed. "Your shadow tricks won't help if you can't move."
He dribbled once, each bounce shaking the ground, then launched the ball.
The ball curved midair — then dropped suddenly, as if gravity had hooked it. Swish.
Point 1 — Gravon.
The audience cheered — a low, reverberating roar. Riku clenched his jaw, pushing himself upright. Lira's aura flared, wrapping him in cold shadow.
"Alright," he muttered. "Round two."
He dashed again — this time using the extra pull to boost. He threw himself forward, letting the downward drag increase speed. Gravon's eyes flickered with brief surprise as Riku spun, launching the ball through a shadow echo.
Swish.
Point 1 — Phantom.
"Interesting," Gravon said. "You're learning the field."
Riku grinned. "I don't need to defy gravity. I just need to use it."
---
The next plays became a brutal tug-of-war.
Gravon shifted gravity zones across the court — invisible traps that twisted Riku's trajectory. Each step was unpredictable; one wrong move and his ankle nearly snapped.
Riku countered by spreading Lira's energy wider, shadow threads anchoring him to stable shards. When Gravon increased the downward pull, Riku slingshotted himself upward, releasing the ball at impossible angles.
Point 2 — Gravon.
Point 2 — Phantom.
The score climbed, both players breathing harder. Sweat pooled on the warped floor.
Then Gravon raised both hands. The arena trembled. The entire court bent inward like a bowl — gravity focusing on the center. Audience members clutched railings as they felt the weight increase.
"This," Gravon said softly, "is the Crushing Court."
Riku felt his knees buckle. His bones creaked. The ball itself groaned under the pressure, bending slightly in his hands.
Lira hissed, We can't hold this for long!
"Not planning to."
He slammed the ball into the ground. Shadow ripples spread, forming a thin layer of anti-force — fragile but enough. He pushed off it, sprinting through collapsing gravity wells, leaving bursts of black light behind each step.
Gravon hurled the ball — a comet of compressed mass. Riku twisted mid-air, slapping it aside with a shadow-coated palm. The impact exploded, cracking the floor. Both were thrown back several meters.
Draw — 2-2.
---
The crowd had stopped cheering. They were holding their breath.
Gravon exhaled slowly. "You shouldn't still be standing."
Riku wiped sweat from his chin. "You shouldn't still be smiling."
The whistle blew for the next round.
Gravity deepened again — the court turning into an invisible ocean of weight. Riku's vision blurred, muscles screaming. But beneath the pain was exhilaration — a rhythm. He could feel the gravity patterns like invisible waves.
He's calculating, Lira realized. He's mapping Gravon's fields in real time.
The next play was a blur. Riku dashed, vanished, reappeared above Gravon, spinning the ball around his back. The moment Gravon pulled him downward, he redirected the fall — turning it into a gravity-assisted dunk that shattered the rim.
The audience erupted.
Point 3 — Phantom.
Gravon's eyes narrowed — the first sign of irritation. "Then I'll show you the event horizon."
He lifted his palm high. The arena darkened, the air trembling. Every shard floated upward before snapping back down violently.
A miniature singularity pulsed at the center of the court.
Riku staggered. "Oh, hell…"
Lira's voice was tight. That's not a field — it's a collapse. He's bending gravity into itself.
The match wasn't over — it had just crossed into something else entirely.
To be continued...