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“LEGENDARY!!!”

A drumbeat of stomps from above follow the bell that tolls seven times, signaling the start of the game. Leading the charge, I run through the silver curtain, through the center shared space of the locker room and into the dark tunnel that leads to the corner of the stadium where another team is already waiting.

Pollom, a third-stone Moon’cher, Back, and Captain of the rival team, is decked out in an emerald green suit with white accents. He didn’t have the best picks from tryouts, so I’m hopeful we can take the win.

The crowd roars from above, fueling my energy like the sun. I have been preparing for this moment since I found out Solarball was returning to the Watch. And while Pollom as a third-stone has the capability to store a significant volume of energy, it won’t compare to the amount I have stored.

I tie my long dreadlocks behind my head. The announcer calls his team onto the field first. Pollom looks over at me, and I wink. His cheeks blush, and his head snaps forward.

I love playing with my prey before I demolish them.

Soon, our team is called forward. We run from the tunnel to assume our spots on the field. I take the front right corner, and Soren takes the left as planned. Wyatt and Riot assume their positions in the back and Kauri the middle. The stands are packed with cheering fans. Above us, a giant myrage is projecting players. I flash a megawatt smile, and a section of people wearing purple cheers at the top of their lungs.

A flash of sparks catches my attention. Along the side of the field, the Goad Squad is entertaining the crowd and egging on players. There, amongst the group, Ramona stands with her arms crossed, with an extremely short skirt and combat platform boots. One of her slender, tan legs is popped as she leans into a hip. Her plump lips are pursed in annoyance. The opposite of school spirit. Haughty and shut off.

I gulp down saliva.

“Let the game begin!” the announcer blares across the stadium. I recognize the voice as a second-stone, Pictor Lang, who was in the Summit. “Green and White, Captained by Pollom, a third-stone Moon’cher who’s got bite.” Pollom gives a curt nod from his Back position. “And coming from his position in the Front is Leaf, Captain of the Purple and Silver team!”

I have to say, Pictor knows how to get the crowd engaged. A girl flings a bra onto the field, and one of the refreshment team members quickly runs over to pick it up.

We settle into our positions on the field and wait for the whistle. My eyes are trained on the small flap in the middle of the field where the flare will shoot out at any moment. I crouch and touch my fingertips to the grass, poised to run. Months of stored energy buzzes excitedly in the three large golden rings on my fingers. Like a fire monkey banging against its cage, the magic is eager for release.

The whistle blows, and I run.

Quicker than the other Front, Harley, I snatch the flare and tuck it under my arm. It’s warm already, but manageable. All of my limbs work in unison as I pivot this way and that to evade Harley’s maneuvers. Sharp shards of ice clang off my armor until one grazes my face. “Fuck!”

Blood sprays from the cut high on my cheek bones.

“Here!” Soren yells to my left.

I throw the flare, now almost burning a hole in my shirt, to my teammate and—

“INTERCEPTION!” Pictor yells, voice magically amplified across the stadium.

“By the sun,” I groan. This isn’t good.

Thick legs in green and white carry the flare to our side, passing the flare back and forth at a quicker pace. Their Moon’cher abilities are great for cooling the flare, but they’re unable to withstand the heat for long.

“Get them, Wyatt! Ready blocks!” I yell to Wyatt, whom Harley is now racing toward. Our hoops are not yet alight with flames, so we have a little time yet to recapture the flare. Riot and Wyatt slam into Harley on both sides.

“Ouch, that’s got to hurt!” Pictor Lang announces.

The green and white section boos.

Kauri, like the fucking good Wildcard she is, scoops up the flare and charges down center field. Soren and I are ready at our line, waiting for her to cross into Front territory.

The hoops alight in a whooshing sound. Fans swirl their purple and silver scarves in the air, eager to watch the impending blood bath.

“Leaf, watch out!” Soren hollers. Four fifty-pound icicles arc in the air toward me, their wickedly sharp tips glinting in the arena’s orb lights. Pollum’s hands are outstretched from his position in the Back, wielding lunaflow, a popular water wielding technique for Moon’chers.

I throw up a solaris shield at the last minute, evaporating the icicles, and effectively avoid being skewered. The Goad Squad shrieks with excitement. Cheering about being “impaled by the glass” or “watch that ass” or something. I sneak a glance to the side of the field. Not to check if anyone in particular was watching me. My eyes lock with round green ones under a fringe of curly hair.

Ramona’s smiling and clapping—a much better mood than the start of the game—she must be impressed with my quick thinking, hard physique, and fast reflexes. I reach an arm above my head to adjust a loc, flexing my biceps a little bit.

THUMP. I slam into the grass and groan. Their oaf of a Wildcard, Jax, just slammed into me. A small section of girls scream at my demise.

Stay focused, Leaf!