Extra's Ascent

"Aldrich, brother! That was freaking insane! What in the world did you just do? How the hell did you pull that off?!"

Dickins barreled toward Aldrich with the unfiltered enthusiasm of a child and launched himself onto him, arms flailing as he practically latched on like an overexcited koala.

Opius wasn't far behind. Swept up by the high, he hurled himself into the pile, collapsing over both of them in a heap of tangled limbs and exhilarated laughter.

Aldrich's body, having borne the toll of a feat few could even imagine, finally gave in. The surge of energy was waning, adrenaline ebbing into weariness. With the weight of two grown men added on top, he couldn't keep himself upright any longer. They all crumpled to the ground, an exhausted hero buried beneath a pair of hyperactive teammates.

"Yes, yes. I believe we can all agree that I am, without question, incredible. But please, for the love of all things holy, get off me. This is not the time to reenact a dogpile."

His words carried fatigue wrapped in sarcasm, a glimmer of pride concealed beneath mock annoyance. He had accomplished what many deemed impossible. He reignited hope where there was none, shattered the boundaries others had accepted. His achievement warranted every bit of celebration, but even legends needed to breathe.

They were ecstatic, grateful, thrilled, and practically bursting with euphoria. Their unrestrained affection made sense. But seriously, some personal space wouldn't hurt. His body had crossed thresholds even he didn't know existed. He had traversed kilometres in less than a heartbeat, dashing through reality like a phantom while the world stood still.

To observers, it lasted seconds. To him, it stretched into a solitary journey through frozen time. In that suspended void, he was the only one moving, living. That kind of existence was unnatural, beautifully so. All the previous milestones he'd reached paled in comparison to this moment. A miracle? Certainly. But perhaps, it was more than that.

For now, he just wanted to lie there. Arms sprawled. Legs relaxed. Muscles unwinding. Preferably without two overly energetic humans crushing his ribcage.

"Give the man some breathing room, would you?!"

Valeria stepped in like a disapproving elder sister, tugging Dickins and Opius off him one by one with no small effort.

"You did good, Al. Exceeded anything I thought you were capable of."

Saldrich's words were measured, but Aldrich sensed the undertone. That was her being generous. He hadn't just delivered a crucial goal, he had rewritten the rules. Velocity, technique, presence, he brought a level of finesse and execution that transcended logic.

"No exaggeration here. Sal, I think your brother just left the realm of monsterdom and ascended into something far worse. Or better? I don't know anymore." Fiona added, arms crossed, watching the aftermath unfold like someone trying to process the impossible.

Across the field, Aydin watched in silence, jaw clenched, eyes stormy.

"You're scowling again, you know."

Selina placed a hand gently on his shoulder, grounding him before his frustration boiled over.

"You said we should unite. That synergy was our way forward. But what is this? Even when we lead, he continues to eclipse everything we do!" Aydin's voice cracked with resentment. He gestured toward Aldrich, the embodiment of an enigma they couldn't catch up to.

"I did say that, yes." Selina nodded. "But think. The game's almost done. No matter what he does, our win is all but secured. Let him burn bright. The scoreboard doesn't lie."

Five minutes later…

"The scoreboard says 12 to 9. Selina, it's 12 to bloody 9! Do you know what that means?! He did it again! Another insane goal! Another freak miracle! And we're just standing here like statues while he breaks every rule there is!"

Aydin nearly shouted the last part, voice fraying with disbelief.

Indeed, Aldrich had done the unthinkable again. His earlier miraculous goal had yielded four points due to the strategic placement of his teammates in the penalty zone. And now, he'd replicated it, another shot, another four points.

This time though, Saldrich's team had adapted. Fiona and Saldrich had pivoted tactics, choosing to ignore Aldrich himself and instead focus their efforts on preventing his teammates from entering the penalty area. Without the right positioning, his effort wouldn't count for more than a single goal.

To counter that, Aldrich summoned his familiar, Malakaih. The fire-water synergy between them had once forged chaos; now it forged strategy. Together, they conjured a mist thick enough to obscure vision, a shroud dense enough to sever lines of sight for the enemy while offering clarity to allies.

It worked. Valeria, Dickins, and Opius navigated through the haze, slipping into position just in time to make it count.

That miracle brought the score to 12-9.

And now, with a minute left on the clock…

The ball was airborne. The final play had begun.

Aldrich surged forward, pushing past fatigue, tearing through gravity with speed that denied sense. His form blurred across the field, closing the gap faster than any eye could trace.

"Not again, Al!" Saldrich yelled, anticipating his casting.

She struck with swift brutality, not allowing him the seconds required to manifest his usual technique. The long casting delay had cost her twice before. She wouldn't allow a third.

"You think I didn't plan for that?!"

Aldrich's voice rang with confidence as stone erupted around him, forming a barrier of earthen slabs. They crumbled beneath Saldrich's armoured assault, ineffective as a defence, but perfect as a smokescreen.

By the time she cleared them,

He was gone.

She spun, seeking, searching.

There!

"No! I have to sto—

"Too late!"

Aldrich emerged, fully formed from mist and motion. His attack was already launched, sharp, precise, searing through the air like a comet. He chased after it, his body propelled by inhuman velocity.

Saldrich calculated rapidly. Blocking it was suicide. The momentum, the force, it would tear through her. She only had one choice left.

Intercept him.

She sprinted with all she had, chasing the storm in human form. But Aldrich had already crossed the midfield. His attack surged toward the goal, and he followed with a ghostlike pace that denied resistance.

He reached the penalty line.

The ball struck home.

But something was off.

No cheers. No points declared.

He glanced back, panting.

His teammates hadn't made it in time.

Fiona had cut them off.

Alone in the penalty zone, Aldrich's incredible manoeuvre had only counted for a single point.

And then, the bell rang. A shrill, echoing tone marked the end of the match's second segment.