Morning on Orion Industrial Ring tastes like metal.
The corridors smell like recycled air and machine oil. The station lights never truly look like sunrise—just a slow change from dim white to brighter white, as if the system pretends the day begins.
Kai wakes before his alarm.
He sits up on the narrow bunk in Orion's player dorm and listens for a moment. He hears distant pipes click. He hears a cargo rail hum. He hears someone's footsteps echo in the hall.
He thinks of Helion again, even though he tells himself not to.
He thinks of the roar.
He thinks of the cameras.
He thinks of Vox Blaze shouting his name like a toy he wants to throw into the crowd.
Kai swings his feet down and pulls on his training gear fast. He does not waste time. If his mind starts looping, his body needs to move first.
By the time he reaches the training bay, Bram already stands near the field with his wrists wrapped and his shoulders rolling like he wakes up by preparing to hit something.
Jett sits on a bench with a cup in his hand and a face that says he hates mornings.
Sana stands with her tablet open, already scrolling through directive pools and arena data. She looks like she sleeps with statistics.
M0SS is in front of the Main Gate, still as stone, like the keeper never leaves goal even in dreams.
Rhythm arrives last, as usual, calm and controlled.
He steps onto the field and lets his gaze travel across them.
"Today we train Pressure Dome," Rhythm says.
Jett groans loudly. "I hate Pressure Dome."
Bram smiles. "That is why it works."
Sana tilts her tablet so everyone can see. "Next fixture briefing confirms Pressure Dome is in the directive pool," she says. "Also confirms lane drift intensity is moderate. Wall-Live probability is high. Multiball chance is medium. Solar Override is active."
Jett waves a hand weakly. "So… pain. Basically."
Sana nods. "Yes. Pain with rules."
Kai steps closer. "Where is the match?"
Sana scrolls. "Arena name: Sable Junction."
Kai frowns. "I do not know it."
Jett snorts. "Lucky you."
Bram cracks his neck. "Sable is ugly. The floor likes to betray ankles."
Kai looks at Rhythm. "You play there before?"
Rhythm nods once. "Yes."
Kai waits.
Rhythm gives the simple version, the kind of explanation he always uses.
"Sable Junction punishes greed," Rhythm says. "It also punishes stamina waste. Pressure Dome there is not a warning. It is a trap."
Kai's stomach tightens. "So we must be careful."
Rhythm nods. "We must be clear."
M0SS speaks once, quiet. "Clear."
Rhythm claps once.
"Warm up," he says. "Then we suffer."
Pressure Dome Activates
Warm-up on the Orion bay floor never feels safe.
Even during jogging, the panel traction shifts slightly, testing ankles. Even during stretching, the seams glow as if the ground watches. It is not a Solar Arena, but Orion trains like it is, because Orion cannot afford to be surprised.
Rhythm taps a control pad.
A zone lights up on the pitch—an oval near the SOL–UMBRA seam. The panel glows faint red, and the air above it shimmers, like heat rises from invisible fire.
Sana speaks fast, like she teaches a lesson.
"Pressure Dome increases resistance in a marked zone," she says. "Movement costs more. Sprinting costs more. Pushing costs more. The Dome creates fatigue faster than normal lanes."
Jett raises his hand like a student. "So the Dome is basically evil."
Sana nods. "Yes."
Bram laughs. "Perfect."
Rhythm looks at Kai. "Step in."
Kai steps toward the glowing zone. The moment his boots cross the boundary, his legs feel heavier, like someone adds weight to his hips and knees. His breathing tightens slightly. The air does not feel thicker, but his body behaves as if it is.
He takes one step.
It feels like two steps.
He takes another.
His calves burn faster than they should.
Kai clenches his jaw. "It feels like UMBRA."
Sana answers immediately. "It feels like UMBRA but targeted. UMBRA is a lane state. Dome is an artificial pressure field. Dome can stack with UMBRA."
Kai's stomach drops. "So it can become worse."
Sana nods. "Yes."
Rhythm speaks calmly. "You do not fight Dome. You use Dome."
Kai looks at him. "How?"
Rhythm gestures with his hand, simple.
"Anchor," Rhythm says. "Shield. Then exit."
Bram steps into the Dome beside Kai, smiling like the heaviness amuses him.
"Dome is my friend," Bram says.
Jett stays outside the zone and points at them. "Dome is my enemy, and I hate both of you."
M0SS watches without expression.
Rhythm claps again. "Drill one. Dome Shield."
Drill One: Dome Shield
The drill is simple and cruel.
Kai receives the ball inside the Pressure Dome. Bram pressures him like a defender, shoulder close, hands low, body ready to shove. Sana stands outside the zone and calls cues with her fingers. Jett waits as the outlet pass. M0SS stands in goal.
Rhythm explains the rule.
"Inside Dome, you cannot waste motion," Rhythm says. "You cannot spin and dance. You pick a side. You shield. You pass. You exit."
He points at Kai. "Start."
A dispenser shoots the ball into the Dome. Kai traps it, and instantly his muscles complain. Bram closes, smiling, and slams a clean shoulder into Kai's side.
Kai staggers.
The Dome makes recovery harder.
Kai plants his feet and lowers his center. He uses the heaviness to become stable instead of slow. He shields with his body and keeps the ball tight.
Sana taps two fingers outward: exit right.
Kai pivots slowly, carefully, then nudges the ball toward the Dome boundary. Bram tries to hook a foot in. Kai keeps his touch short and firm.
Kai crosses the boundary.
The heaviness releases suddenly.
His body almost oversteps because his legs expect resistance and get freedom instead.
He catches himself.
He passes to Jett outside the Dome.
Jett receives and laughs. "Ah, freedom. My favorite lane."
Rhythm nods. "Again."
They repeat.
Kai learns quickly that the Dome punishes hesitation more than it punishes strength. If he waits too long inside, his legs turn to stone. If he chooses quickly, the Dome becomes a tool. It pins him in place like an anchor, and anchors help you shield.
Bram pressures harder each repetition. Bram tries to shove Kai deeper into the Dome. Bram tries to force a mistake on the boundary, where the sudden release makes players stumble.
Kai adapts.
He times his exit better. He shortens his steps even when leaving, so he does not fly forward. He uses the wall once to bounce a pass out without turning his hips too much.
Sana nods slightly. "Better. You start thinking ahead."
Kai breathes hard. "I have to."
Jett wipes sweat from his forehead dramatically. "Look at us. Training like we are rich."
Bram snorts. "We train like we are desperate."
Rhythm's voice stays calm. "Desperate teams die. Clear teams survive."
M0SS says quietly, "Clear."
Kai feels his lungs burn, but his mind stays sharp. He begins to feel the Dome's rhythm the way he feels lane drift—like the pressure has a timing, a pulse.
He does not like it.
But he learns it.
Drill Two: Dome Switch
Rhythm changes the drill.
He activates a second Pressure Dome zone on the opposite side of the pitch, near the LUNA seam. Now two ovals glow, two traps waiting.
Sana's eyes widen slightly, impressed. "Stack training."
Rhythm nods. "Sable Junction stacks."
Jett groans. "Why does everything stack?"
Bram smiles. "Because suffering is creative."
Rhythm points at the team. "We practice switching through Dome without losing shape. Triangle shape. No panic."
Sana gestures the formation. Bram anchors defense. Jett stays wide as outlet. Kai plays striker but must drop into midfield to help the switch.
The ball moves.
Kai receives outside Dome One and passes to Sana. Sana taps it to Bram. Bram carries it toward Dome One, then cuts away at the boundary, drawing a defender imaginary.
Kai runs into LUNA lane to open space, but Rhythm activates lane drift at the same moment. The LUNA stripe slides half a step. Kai shortens his steps automatically.
Sana signals: Arrow.
Kai sprints, receives a wall bounce, and pushes forward—then Rhythm triggers Dome Two intensity.
Kai crosses into Dome Two by accident.
The heaviness clamps his legs again.
His breath tightens.
He feels his body complain.
Bram calls out—then stops himself because Rhythm flips a mini Silence cue mid-drill to simulate confusion. Bram's mouth closes. His hands gesture instead.
Kai realizes this is the point: Dome plus drift plus confusion creates panic.
So he refuses panic.
He shields the ball, uses the Dome's heaviness to plant, and taps the ball back to Sana instead of forcing a shot.
Sana receives, nods once, and switches the play to Jett on the opposite side.
Jett receives outside both Domes and laughs like he escapes a monster.
"That is why I live wide," he says.
Rhythm stops the drill and points at Kai.
"Good," Rhythm says. "You do not force."
Kai breathes hard. "Forcing dies."
Rhythm nods. "Yes."
Sana adds quickly, "A shot inside Dome is only good if it is clean. Otherwise you gift a rebound and cannot chase."
Kai nods. He understands. Dome punishes chase. Dome punishes greed.
In CSFG, greed always pays in pain.
The Arena Briefing
After training, Orion gathers near the wall screen. Sana projects the official league notice again: pre-match arena briefing required.
Jett frowns. "We really have to go?"
Sana nods. "Yes. It is mandatory."
Bram grins. "Mandatory means important. Important means someone cares."
Jett mutters, "Someone cares in the worst way."
Rhythm speaks calmly. "We attend. We listen. We do not argue."
Kai looks at Rhythm. "Why do they brief us now?"
Rhythm answers simply. "Because we win."
Kai's jaw tightens. "So winning invites eyes."
Rhythm nods. "Always."
Sana taps her screen. "Briefing time is today. Two hours. Location: league compliance hall."
Jett sighs loudly. "Great. Paperwork arena."
Bram laughs. "You will survive."
Jett points. "Will I?"
M0SS speaks once, quiet. "Yes. You breathe."
Jett blinks. "Did the keeper just encourage me?"
Bram laughs harder. "Miracles happen."
Kai does not laugh. His stomach tightens again. Compliance hall sounds like officials. Officials sound like the Tribunal in the back of his mind, even if today is not Red.
Rhythm watches him, and Kai hates that the coach sees everything.
"You think too far," Rhythm says.
Kai answers, honest. "I do not want to be surprised."
Rhythm nods. "Good. But stay in the next step. The next step is briefing."
Kai nods. "Okay."
Compliance Hall
The league compliance hall sits in a cleaner sector of the ring, far from the salvage yards. The floors shine. The walls carry polished screens. Security drones hover at corners like quiet threats.
Kai walks beside the team. Orion's patched gear looks even rougher here.
Jett whispers, "I feel underdressed."
Bram whispers back, "I feel ready to punch someone."
Sana keeps her eyes forward. M0SS stays silent. Rhythm walks with calm steps.
A league official meets them at the entrance. The official wears a crisp uniform and a smile that never reaches the eyes.
"Orion Junkyard FC," the official says. "Welcome."
Kai hates the tone. It sounds polite and sharp at the same time.
They enter a briefing room. A hologram of Sable Junction appears above a round table: the pitch, the walls, the lane configuration, the target rails.
The official gestures at the hologram.
"Sable Junction is a certified Circuit arena," the official says. "Directive pool includes Pressure Dome, Wall-Live, and Ring Drift. Silence Phase may occur. Multiball may occur. Solar Override is active."
Sana already knows this. Kai already knows this. The briefing feels like someone wants to remind them the arena can hurt them.
The official continues. "This briefing includes compliance reminders."
A second screen flashes rules: prohibited fouls, equipment checks, communication restrictions, substitution windows.
Jett raises a hand. "Is there a rule against depression?"
The official ignores him.
Bram smirks. Sana elbows Jett lightly.
Then the official's gaze lands on Kai.
"Kai Arden," the official says. "New registration. Earth origin."
Kai's spine stiffens.
"Yes," Kai says.
The official smiles. "Congratulations on your Helion performance."
Kai does not respond. He does not trust congratulations from officials.
The official continues, tone still polite. "New players often struggle with Sable Junction's Dome stack. Please remember that safety protocols exist for your health."
Kai hears "health" and feels the lie inside it. The system does not care about health. The system cares about spectacle and compliance.
Rhythm speaks calmly. "We understand the protocols."
The official nods, satisfied, like he wants that exact answer.
"Good," the official says. "Also, a reminder: public statements about league structure should remain respectful. Commentators and athletes influence social stability."
Sana's eyes narrow. Bram's jaw tightens. Jett's mouth opens, ready to be stupid.
Rhythm raises one hand slightly, and Jett closes his mouth.
Kai feels heat rise. He hears what the official means: do not talk about the ugly parts. Do not shake the illusion. Do not make fans question the system.
Kai keeps his face neutral and says nothing.
The official ends the briefing. "We wish Orion Junkyard FC a fair match."
Bram mutters under his breath, "Fair."
Sana whispers, "Do not."
Bram shuts up.
They leave.
In the corridor outside the compliance hall, Jett exhales hard.
"I hate polished places," Jett says. "They make me itch."
Bram cracks his knuckles. "Polished places hide knives better."
Sana looks at Rhythm. "That warning about public statements is new."
Rhythm nods. "Yes."
Kai asks quietly, "They worry about what we say because of the broadcast?"
Rhythm answers simply. "Because they watch reactions. They manage reactions."
Kai's fists clench. He thinks of Vox Blaze laughing through serious things. He thinks of how easily the crowd accepts deletion talk as entertainment, as long as it stays behind bright lights.
Sana says, "We keep our heads down."
Kai shakes his head slightly. "We keep winning."
Rhythm looks at him. "Winning is loud enough."
Kai breathes in, slow. He tries to accept that.
Back to Training
The next day, the bay feels different.
Not because the floor changes, but because Kai changes.
He understands now: winning does not only bring harder opponents. Winning brings officials, cameras, and rules about what you are allowed to think out loud.
Rhythm starts training with one statement.
"In Sable Junction," Rhythm says, "we win by managing breath."
Jett groans. "I hate breathing."
Sana rolls her eyes. "You breathe all the time."
Jett points. "Not voluntarily."
Bram laughs.
Rhythm ignores the jokes. He activates Pressure Dome again.
"Dome plus Wall-Live," Rhythm says. "We drill."
The wall panels activate. Balls rebound faster. The Dome resists movement. Kai feels the same heaviness, but now he expects it.
He learns to use short movements inside the Dome, and he learns to pass out without turning too much. He learns to time wall bounces so the rebound exits the Dome and arrives to a teammate outside, where speed returns.
Sana calls cues with hand signals. Bram pressures. Jett runs wide. M0SS guards goal.
Kai improves.
Then Rhythm increases intensity.
He stacks Dome near UMBRA.
Kai steps into it and feels his lungs burn immediately. The resistance bites harder.
He almost panics.
Then he remembers the playbook. Triangle. Clear. Choice.
He plants his feet. He shields. He passes. He exits.
He does not fight the Dome.
He uses it.
And for a brief second again, he feels that internal alignment—the strange clarity where everything in him snaps into one line.
No loud aura.
No glow.
Just a clean sense of timing.
Kai keeps it inside.
Because he knows now: in CSFG, the moment you show something unusual, the system watches closer.
And the system already watches.
End of the Day
After training, Orion sits together for a quick meal in the bay's side room. The food tastes like protein paste with spice. Jett complains anyway.
Bram eats like a machine. Sana eats while reading. M0SS eats quietly. Rhythm drinks water and watches the team.
Kai looks at his hands again.
He thinks about Helion. He thinks about Sable Junction. He thinks about Pressure Dome. He thinks about the compliance hall's polite warning.
He speaks quietly to Rhythm.
"They want us silent."
Rhythm answers calmly. "They want everyone silent in the right way."
Kai's jaw tightens. "I do not want to be silent."
Rhythm looks at him, steady. "Then speak with your feet."
Kai breathes.
He nods once.
Because in CSFG, words can be controlled. Broadcasts can be edited. Narratives can be pushed.
But a goal on the scoreboard is harder to ignore.
And Kai decides, right there, in the rough bay that smells like sweat and scrap, that he will not fight the system by shouting at it.
He will fight it by climbing.
By scoring.
By winning.
By learning every cruel directive and refusing to break when the arena stacks pressure on his lungs.
Because the closer Orion gets to the top, the closer Orion gets to the place where the game's rules are written.
And Kai wants to reach that place before the red lights ever point at Earth.