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ENFANTS TERRIBLE (2nd Draft)
[2nd Draft] CHAPTER 21: GOD LOVE OMEGA - INFINITE MILES OF BAD ROAD

[2nd Draft] CHAPTER 21: GOD LOVE OMEGA - INFINITE MILES OF BAD ROAD

CHAPTER 21: GOD LOVE OMEGA - INFINITE MILES OF BAD ROAD

“Champions aren’t made in the gyms. Champions are made from something they have deep inside them—a desire, a dream, a vision.”

— Muhammad Ali

The sleek black hover car gliding down the driveway probably meant trouble. To Richard Reginald Harry, anything in the painted desert that wasn’t old, broken down, and rusty didn’t belong. This was a hot place, and cool things just stood out. The luxury vehicle, a glaring interloper, halted a few steps from Richard’s old Martian Streamline parked on the high ground at the lip of a fantastic crater. Inside the crater was a small lake surrounded by a respectable wetland forest—years of Richard’s careful nurturing.

Richard descended the hand-built steps off his front porch just as the car window began to roll down, revealing a familiar face. Jean Marseille. Or was it Jeans? One of them—those androgynous siblings known for their scandalous escapades across the stars and entanglement in political controversies.

“You haven’t aged a day,” Richard said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I thought both of you died decades ago.”

“I wish,” Jean laughed, their tone airy and light.

Jean opened the door and stepped out, their ensemble dazzling with millions of tiny diodes that reflected the sunlight. Jean gave an exaggerated sigh and tapped a ring on their finger, dimming the lights. “This ‘eat ', ' vraiment ', is oppressive. How do you live ‘ere?”

They sized Richard up. "Since we’re on the subject of recognition, and also why I’m here, I think I recognize you, too.”

Jean's gaze flicked over Richard. "Eh bien, it 'as been many years, non? God Love Omega, yes?"

Richard nodded. “Fifty years ago, sure.”

Jean’s lips curved into an amused smile. "Ah, but do you still love ze money, GLO? Oui, l’argent, l’argent, toujours?"

“I have use for it,” Richard said, his voice measured. “But my pursuits have expanded to more serious things—things that enrich the spirit, not just the body.”

Jean’s gaze shifted to Richard’s artificial limbs—small, efficient replacements for his arms and legs.

"Mon dieu... prison, perhaps? C’est pourquoi you are hiding out 'ere?"

Richard chuckled. “No, nothing like that.”

Jean's face tightened briefly before relaxing. "So, what do you want, Jean? Where’s Jean? This is about them, isn’t it?”

“You deduce well for your age, Richard,” Jean sighed dramatically. “Oui, it is true. My dear sibling and I ‘ave ‘ad a... falling out. And now, moi, I need your help.”

Richard laughed openly this time, a deep rumble in his chest. “Why would I care about some tiff between the system’s two most superfluous people?”

Jean flared with anger but quickly composed themselves, taking a deep breath. “Mon dieu, Omega, vraiment, it is no small matter. My sibling—Jean—is ‘aving an affair with zat imbécile robot tycoon who wants to replace ze league with... with machines! Artificial players! Can you imagine? Zey would kick all ze humans out of Siege!”

“What?” Richard raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard.

Jean's delicate fingers waved him into the car. It was cool inside—almost uncomfortably so—and Jean wasted no time getting to the point.

“Four weeks, mon frere, from now... at ze Faraday Cage Sphere on Europa.”

“I haven’t heard anything about this on the news. Not that I listen much these days.”

“Ah, of course not. La raison is very simple.” Jean handed him a flexipad with a flourish. “Please, ‘ave a look, Richard. You will find it intriguing, I am sure.”

Richard squinted at the screen. “What is this? A roster?”

Jean’s eyes gleamed. “Oui, oui, c’est ça. Ze entire league.”

Richard leaned back, connecting the dots. “Ah. I need a team. Now I get it.”

Richard would need to scout his players before they could announce the game.

“You’re making me pick now?”

"Mais oui, I am impatient," Jean responded with a sly grin. "I want zis matter settled so I can return to enjoying ze game, as an owner should."

He would need a Forward—also known as a Striker. They were the primary goal-scorers, with exceptional agility, speed, and precision to navigate the zero-gravity field and score goals. Strikers often specialized in quick maneuvers and evading opponents.

Richard struggled to interpret the statistics at first, as he wasn’t familiar with the scoring systems. But he knew he needed a dominant strategy to win one game. He searched for the most aggressive, untouchable player.

“Oh shit,” he muttered after reading about one guy.

“Migesus ‘Zeus’ d’Azmat, seventy-seven career Hyperdrive Goals.” A hyperdrive goal was achieved when a player made it to the goal, carrying or throwing the ball, without any rebounds. That meant nobody could touch you, and you couldn’t touch anything else. Once you broke away from the wall or another player, every rebound counted. But zero was the best. They were worth seven points.

Jean raised an eyebrow. "You ‘ave not been following ze game, have you?"

Richard admitted he hadn’t. It brought back too many bad memories, made him want to play again too much.

“Why change your mind now?” Jean asked, with a knowing smirk.

For Richard, it was about Heat—a force of men. He felt the universe turning too cold. Siege, to him, wasn’t just entertainment. The idea that robots could take over the game, robbing men of the experience, was an abomination.

“Siege ain’t about robots.”

“Non, non, of course not,” Jean agreed, with a rare seriousness. "Ze heart of ze game is in ze humans, mon ami."

Richard nodded. “How is he so good at that?”

Jean laughed, “Ah! He just grabs ze ball and runs along ze curvature of ze sphere, always keeping at least one foot in contact. C’est incroyable to watch! He’s a legend—on and off ze court.”

“Perfect. Is that good?”

Jean shrugged. "It is not bad."

“If I could make a recommendation for your Back and Playmaker, check out Kaishi and Xin Shiai ,” Jean continued, gesturing to the flexipad.

Richard whistled as he read their stats.

Backs, or Defenders, focused on protecting their team’s goal, with strong defensive skills, intercepting the ball, and disrupting the opponent’s offensive plays. Playmakers, meanwhile, controlled the flow of the game, making strategic passes and contributing to both offense and defense.

“Sisters?”

"Pas tout à fait," Jean chuckled. "Xin is ze clone of Kaishi. Or is it ze other way around? Provincial sisters, you might say."

“Their defense and assist point ratings are high, but I see higher.”

"Ah, but you are missing zeir penalty records. Zese ladies, they are surgeons in ze sphere—no collisions, zero penalties. C’est magnifique."

Richard’s eyes widened. “Zero collision penalties? Shit. Let’s get them.”

Jean, now sipping on some booze they had found, said, “So, what are we going to do about ze Def Spec?”

Defensive Specialists, or Enforcers, excelled in physical play, using their strength and cybernetic enhancements to gain an advantage. God Love Omega himself had once been the best in the position.

Richard shook his head. “Let’s talk about the Tactician. There’s only one choice.”

“I want Cat Meat.”

Jean recoiled theatrically. “Mais non! Zat horrible, smelly little creature? Why in ze world would you want zat putrescent orb?”

Cat Meat was a Rozovoi—a sentient, amorphous blue space urchin. Rozovoi aliens were known for being the best Tacticians in Siege, with an uncanny ability to operate in zero-G environments. They could move in and out of the fray with ease and relay instructions to players using colored lights.

“He’s the best of the best,” Richard said, shrugging off the oddness. “Funkiness aside.”

Jean wrinkled their nose but nodded. “D'accord, you ‘ave a point, I must admit. Très bien, I will pull some strings and see what I can do to find your atrocious little monster.”

“I appreciate it.” Richard scrolled through the Enforcers list.

“What about her?”

He brought up her statistics on the full screen and showed them to Jean, who just laughed.

“Molly-Cat Olavi?”

“It says here she’s a Spectacular Solo Play Ace. She’s thrown more three-point goals than me.”

Jean shook their head, chuckling, “Mon cher, she’s a Striker. Don’t get too creative, darling. Can she fight off another Enforcer?”

“Nobody can. Think about it. This game is against real machines. No Enforcer’s going to stay safe that way. It’s suicide. I say put in a cannon like her and teach everyone else to stay safe. Get in the goals.”

Jean raised their glass in a toast. “Magnifique! That’s a brilliant point, dear. That’s why I came to you.”

Richard nodded. “So, that’s your team. I assume you want me to coach?”

“I wanted you to be ze Enforcer. I was going to coach. But this is less work. Comme tu veux—have it your way.”

“Do you want a ride with me now? We can be out of this hole in two hours.”

“Non, non. Can I meet you tonight at ze port? I’ve got some business to attend to first.”

“You do you, darling.”

Richard stepped out of the car and waved goodbye as it hovered off into the dusty Martian sunset. He shielded his eyes, taking a moment to admire the wetlands in the crater he’d spent years cultivating. It was time to let them thrive on their own—let Nature take care of itself. He felt the Heat stirring in him again, something he’d forgotten to feed for far too long.

Inside his trailer, he packed a parcel of clothes and personal belongings into a massive duffel bag, one so heavy it would have been impossible for him to lift easily—until now.

Out behind his home was a shed with a lock far too secure for simple tools. In fact, it wasn’t even really a shed. It was a cybernetic augmentation storage pod.

The words on the pod read, “Ne Plus Ultra.”

As the Martian sun dipped below the horizon, Richard sprinted down the road, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His once tiny, outdated prosthetic limbs had been replaced by larger, sleek black exoskeletal arms and legs

Richard chose to run all the way to the spaceport as a way of reacquainting himself with his newly upgraded cybernetic implants. The exoskeletal limbs, far more powerful than his previous prosthetics, granted him an extraordinary speed and stamina he hadn’t experienced in years. The run wasn’t just practical—it was symbolic. With each step, he could feel the precision engineering kicking in, the sleek mechanics responding seamlessly to his every movement. The implants gave him back the control and strength that time had taken, and with each mile, the old instincts he once had in his prime were returning. By the time he reached the spaceport, the once-distant echoes of God Love Omega, the legendary player, felt closer than ever.

Once off-planet and reunited with Jean at the spaceport, they boarded a private shuttle. Richard glanced out the window for a final glimpse of his crater home as they flew over it. That chapter was over. He was heading back to space.

Their forty-hour spaceflight carried them to the For Elite Training Facility in Jovian space, situated on an artificial planetoid. The tiny planet, positioned strategically within Jupiter’s orbit, served as a top-tier training ground for athletes preparing for interplanetary sports, including Siege.

As the shuttle approached the facility, Richard marveled at its grandeur—an expanse of cutting-edge arenas, training facilities, and futuristic technology designed to push the limits of human (and non-human) performance.

Jean dropped him off at the training Sphere. “Alors, I’ve rented ze dorms for you at Yak Estates, just around ze corner. Your team should begin to arrive over ze next few days. I will greet them as zey come and send them your way.”

“Cat Meat?” Richard called out.

“Maybe next week. I will let you know.” Jean's voice trailed off as they sauntered away, disappearing to some unknown destination.

Richard dropped his bag and stepped into the Siege Sphere, a marvel of athletic engineering. The enormous structure, 150 meters in diameter, enclosed almost eight-thousand cubic meters of space, with the key feature being the absence of gravity—a design that defined the very nature of the sport. In this environment, players could defy the rules of physics, moving freely in every direction, twisting and flipping through the air in a constant, acrobatic ballet.

The sensation of weightlessness was like second nature to Richard, his body instantly remembering the familiar feel of Zero G. He began to ease himself back into practice, performing basic maneuvers: spins, flips, lateral drifts—all the essentials that formed the backbone of movement in Siege. In the Sphere, the most strategic way to move was by pushing off surfaces, whether it was the walls, handrails, or other players. The latter was especially important. Using your teammates to gain momentum was a vital tactic, called an Assist, which was worth an extra point when it contributed to a goal. Rebounds, another signature move of the game, allowed players to launch themselves across the field, converting pushes into bursts of speed.

With a smooth push off the wall, Richard floated gracefully towards the center of the Sphere. He spun mid-air, adjusting his trajectory with a subtle extension of his leg, taking advantage of the conservation of angular momentum. His movement was fluid and precise, conserving energy while maximizing control. The mechanics of Zero G required finesse; Richard’s every shift in motion altered his angular velocity, adjusting his spin and positioning for the next move.

“Ball,” he called. A device at the base of the Sphere responded, dispensing a ball that hovered gently in the weightless environment. Richard was already in motion, rebounding off the wall to meet the ball. He secured it with both hands, knowing that, in zero gravity, grip was everything. There was no natural arc like in regular gravity—every shot required full-body engagement. He planted his feet against the wall, anchoring himself, and with a practiced motion, threw the ball towards the goal ring. His entire body contributed to the shot, generating enough force to propel the ball straight ahead. In the zero-gravity environment, the ball soared effortlessly through the air, and Richard grinned as it passed cleanly through the goal ring.

Richard rebounded off the wall, spinning gracefully to face the goal ring. As he extended his leg, the spin slowed, aligning him with pinpoint precision. With a flick of his wrist, he launched the ball in a calculated arc. The controlled spin allowed him to aim perfectly, setting up a flawless three-point rebound goal. The ball bounced off the walls once, twice, and a final time, each rebound methodically adding precision to the shot.

As the ball sailed smoothly through the zero-gravity environment and swished cleanly through the goal ring, an automatic celebration erupted. The goal ring, embedded with advanced sensors, responded instantly, igniting a cascade of dazzling lights. Vibrant colors pulsed from the ring, transforming the arena into a glowing spectacle. At the same time, a loud, triumphant sound effect echoed throughout the Sphere, marking the goal with the pomp it deserved.

Richard sighed wistfully, relishing the experience—it was just as thrilling as he remembered.

Three days later, while Richard was enjoying breakfast, a figure entered the cafeteria. He was pale-skinned, with black hair. His muscular frame was enhanced with augments, the kind only an elite athlete possessed. Exoskeletal blocks reinforced his upper arms, chest, and legs, clearly visible as he walked up to Richard’s table.

The man greeted Richard by asking, “I’m looking for the hundred-year-old guy with eighty-inch biceps.”

Without looking up, Richard took a bite of his eggs and replied, “I’m one-hundred-and-eight.”

“I’m Zeus Azmat,” the man introduced himself.

“As in Migesus?” Richard asked, finally giving him a glance.

Zeus nodded. “You’re him. You’re God Love Omega.”

“I used to be, yeah,” Richard said.

“What changed?”

“I dunno. Stuff. Time. Feels like I died and went to Mars.”

Zeus chuckled in agreement. “I know, right? Just being here—it feels like we’re at war or something.”

Richard nodded, munching on a strip of space bacon. “You ready for war?”

Zeus nodded again, resolute.

“Good. Now grab some food. You’re gonna need a lot of calories. Trust me, you’ll burn ‘em off soon enough.”

As they ate together, the conversation turned to cats—both men shared a love for felines. Richard described the wild cats from his wetlands, which were known to swim and catch snakeheads. Zeus was amazed by the thought of cats that hunted in the water.

Though Zeus was aptly named for his lightning-fast speed as a Forward, Richard quickly realized something unusual about him. Zeus wasn’t well-versed in the rules or strategies of Siege. He was a player fueled by pure instinct and raw talent. Give him the ball, and he would charge toward the goal with almost animalistic determination, oblivious to everything else.

What set Zeus apart was his distinctive playing style—a breathtaking display of skill that earned him his thunderous nickname. Zeus ran along the curved surface of the Siege Sphere, always keeping at least one foot in contact with it. This technique allowed him to maintain speed without triggering rebounds, making him practically untouchable. His signature move was seizing the ball and launching into a lightning-fast sprint along the curvature of the sphere, effortlessly bypassing defenders.

“So you just run, eh?” Richard asked.

Zeus nodded, biting into a satsuma, peel and all, without hesitation.

The next morning, while they were training, two more teammates arrived.

Xin and Kaishi were nearly identical, distinguishable only by their cybernetics and hair color. Kaishi had propulsion systems integrated into her legs and adaptive shields on her arms and shoulders, likely paired with spatial awareness boosters. Xin’s cybernetics included limb micro-adjusters and a dynamic spatial analyzer implanted in her head. Both women were impressively built, their physiques as strong as their reputations. Richard quickly realized Kaishi had glowing blue hair, while Xin's was a simple black.

"Kaishi Shiai , pleased to meet you."

"Xin Shiai , likewise."

"You girls are called ‘surgical’ in the Sphere. Is that true?" Richard asked.

Xin smirked. "Not just in the Sphere. I could be an actual surgeon."

"Impressive. And you?" Richard asked, looking at Kaishi.

Kaishi giggled, "She’s based off of me."

Richard raised an eyebrow, examining the two. "You actually look a bit heavier."

Xin hugged her clone and gave Kaishi’s neon hair a noogie. "That’s ‘cause this one can’t stop eating."

Kaishi groaned, clearly embarrassed. "It’s true. I’m just always so hungry."

"You two are down with spatial awareness, right? Angular momentum and all that?" Richard asked.

In unison, the sisters replied, "You could say that," causing them all to laugh.

At that moment, Zeus finished his laps around the Sphere and bounded over to meet the newcomers. He immediately recognized them, his face twisting into mock horror. "Oh no, not those two."

Both Kaishi and Xin greeted him in sync, "Hey, what’s up, Big American?"

"You've met in the Sphere before, eh?" Richard asked.

"Not exactly," Xin said, stifling a grin.

"We hustled him at Pool and bought a car once," Kaishi added with a mischievous smile.

Zeus bristled, his face turning a shade redder.

Kaishi, mocking him, added in a heavy, fake accent, "Me not speak English good, you want show me game, Big American?"

Richard said, "I’ll show you a game. The Zero-G Recreation Module in the game room transforms into a 3D pool arena."

The 3D pool setup featured a suspended grid with glowing orbs as pockets. The balls, now anti-gravity spheres, hovered weightlessly in a smaller Siege Sphere-like area. Players floated in zero-G, using the full three-dimensional game space to their advantage.

"Weren’t you an Enforcer, bro?" Kaishi teased.

He corrected her. "I also led the league in three-point-goals."

Richard grabbed a pool cue from the wall. Kaishi and Xin both reached for their own, but Richard stopped them. "Don’t bother."

He took his stick and shot the white cue ball into the levitating pyramidal construct of other game balls, sending them flying in all directions, their trajectories ricocheting off the grid’s boundaries without escaping the holographic confines.

Mike flinched instinctively, but the balls stayed within the green grid, adhering to physics as they rebounded. Two solids hit a sphere and disappeared.

Richard’s gaze shifted from his “opponents” to the floating orbs above. He lined up a shot, skillfully banking the cue ball off three planes before sinking another solid. Every move seemed effortless, his years of experience evident in his strategic bank shots and finesse. It took him longer to shift into position than it did to make his shots. He was a master.

Without giving Kaishi or Xin a chance to play, Richard approached the final shot. Navigating through a maze of floating striped balls, he delivered a precise hit, sinking the eight-ball to claim victory.

"Pool isn’t a game to me anymore," he said. "It’s a trick—a basic task. Listen up, players, because there are Three Things. Three things that every competitor in this universe needs to master if they want to rise above, if they want to control the game and not be controlled by it. It's not just a lesson in pool, or Siege, or any of this flashy showmanship—it’s about life, too. You learn these Three Things, you make them your own, and you don’t just play the game, you own it.

“The First Thing: Vision.”

It ain't enough to just see what’s in front of you. You gotta see all of it—the paths, the angles, every ricochet, every curve in space. I’m talkin’ about three-dimensional vision. Don’t just look at where you want the ball to go, look at where it’s gonna go. You need to see its journey, its route off every wall, how it bounces, how it spins. See all the angles, all the possibilities, and visualize the outcome. You do that, you make those paths as clear as day.

“The Second Thing: Instinct.”

Vision will get you nowhere if you don't trust your body to act on it. It’s the reflexes, the gut calls, the automatic responses that make you unbeatable. Your body is the cue stick, and the cue ball is your weapon—you need to learn how to use it without thinking. It's gotta be as natural as breathing. You know why I make this look so easy? Because I’m not thinking. I’ve done the thinking, and now it’s all reflex. Every shot, every move, every counter—reflex. That's what I’m giving you. Practice until it's muscle memory. Every move you make, make it instinct.

“The Third Thing: Confidence.”

Let me tell you something—when you’re out there, when you're floating in that zero-G space or facing down your opponent, confidence is everything. You need to move like you’ve already won. Every step, every play, you gotta own it. The moment you doubt, you lose control. You dominate not because you're the best at pool or Siege, but because you know you're the best at everything that matters. Confidence isn’t just believing you can win; it's knowing your opponent’s already lost. It’s that swagger that makes them hesitate while you strike.

Three Things, players. Vision, Instinct, Confidence. Master those, and it’s not just pool or Siege—it’s life, too. It all becomes a trick, a basic task. You’ll see the game before it happens, you’ll feel it in your bones, and you’ll win before it’s even played. That’s how you get to my level."

He tossed the cue stick to Zeus. "Now you do it. Make it basic."

Richard trained Zeus to beat the girls, but Kaishi and Xin quickly improved as well. By the fifth day, when their next teammate arrived, all four players had honed their skills to an impressive level, learning to treat the game like a fundamental exercise.

Molly-Cat Olavi floated into the Siege Sphere like an angel. Her graceful yet powerful presence was enhanced by her Czernabog cybernetic wings, giving her extra angles for controlled rebounds.

Richard had Zeus, Kaishi, and Xin drilling three-point-goals, applying their newly mastered 3D pool techniques to the more demanding task of Siege play.

He called down to Molly-Cat, "Fall in."

With a smile, she nodded and joined the shooting rotation behind Xin.

When it was her turn, Molly-Cat grabbed the floor of the Sphere with one hand, slamming the ball down so fast her arm became a blur. The ball shot off, rebounding five times, then seven, before passing cleanly through the goal ring, where it was stopped by the device’s gravity.

“Everybody, meet the current leader in three-point-goals, Molly-Cat,” Richard announced.

They sat together for their first meal as a team—Richard, Molly-Cat, Zeus, Kaishi, and Xin—a Strike of Siegers, though no one really called them that.

When the realization hit that they wouldn’t have an Enforcer to protect them from other players, Richard had to explain why. Siege teams heavily relied on the Enforcer role, a position that had once made Richard famous before his renown as a Striker.

“We have to assume these robot players are going to be bigger and stronger than any human. So, we treat them entirely as obstacles. Even the toughest human player with the most advanced augments still has limitations they can exploit. And since we’re not here to destroy them, but they can destroy us—even accidentally—our only shot is to avoid them and shoot like mothafuckin’ marksmen.”

Zeus nodded. “Even I can shoot now. I’m better now than I was a week ago.”

Kaishi and Xin agreed with him.

Kaishi asked, “How do we train our agility to deal with blocking their shots? We all need to be able to block and shoot if there’s no Enforcer setting us up.”

Xin corrected her, “I’ll always be there to set you up.”

Molly-Cat interrupted, “I can move, and I can shoot. I’ve played against seriously augmented players—practically robots themselves. I’ll tell you this: we can’t rebound the ball off the walls. They’ve memorized every possible way to intercept. Our best shot is using strange angles, constructed with each other. Multi-bound offense shots. And they’ve got to be short distances. Also, Hyperdrives are off the table.”

Richard suggested that they simply needed to move faster. No one could afford to camp out, waiting for opportunities. Everyone had to pull off the game like it was second nature.

They drilled with Molly-Cat to improve their rebound count for shots and set up offensive formations. Molly-Cat could strike the ball at her location, ricocheting it off the other three players. From there, the team worked on evolving formations, ensuring players could move to new positions to serve as rebound points. It was challenging—no team could do it indefinitely—but by the end of the first week, they were damn close.

In the second week, Jean had something delivered to Richard's apartment that made him very happy. It was a big metal canister. He hefted the heavy object over his shoulder and knocked on everyone’s doors, calling for them to meet him at the Sphere in twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes later, Zeus, Kaishi, Xin, and Molly-Cat stood just outside the anti-gravity structure, admiring their mentor and his mysterious canister.

“I would like to introduce you all to your team Trainer, and Tactician. My friend.”

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Richard took off the lid of the can, releasing a powerful rotten odor that nearly gagged Zeus and repelled the others.

All the can contained was thick, blue slime.

Molly-Cat grimaced. “I hate to break this to you, Richard, but your friend is dead.”

“Naw,” Richard replied, though he waved away the miasma.

Without hesitation, he tossed the can into the Sphere’s entrance. The team watched as the tumbling vessel suddenly erupted, releasing a bubble of living organic flesh. Dark blue and pulsating, the blob emitted tiny multicolored lights that blinked rhythmically within it. It expanded into a recognizable form—a floating, space amoeba resembling a dog’s chew toy.

Richard waved them into the arena, grinning.

“Cat Meat!” he cried joyfully.

“Kat miit mit kaat miiit kaat mit kat mit miit kat kat,” the strange blob "said," cheerfully vibrating.

“My buddy Cat Meat here is the finest Siege Trainer in the System. Don’t let his looks fool you. Rozovoi like him...”

Zeus interrupted, confused. “Him?”

“Kat mit, miit kat,” the blob responded, bobbing slightly.

Richard clarified, “The Rozovoi have seven genders. His approved pronoun is ‘he.’” He smiled, continuing, “These guys exist in three-dimensional space outside of gravity’s pull. That’s why they’re not allowed to play your roles in Siege. Observe. Cat Meat, if you will?”

With a cheerful "Kat miit," Cat Meat demonstrated his zero-point maneuverability, effortlessly altering his speed and direction mid-air.

“Listen up, all of you. We’ve been playing this Siege game for a while now, thinking we’ve mastered it. But what you’ve got to understand is this: the rules of our world, the way we move, think, and strategize, they don’t apply out here. You’ve been trapped in a two-dimensional mindset, limited by gravity, by friction, by everything that holds us to the ground. But space? Space ain’t like that. Space is free. It’s chaos. And chaos is where we find our true selves.”

He gestured toward Cat Meat, who was floating effortlessly in the Sphere, his blob-like form defying all earthly understanding of movement. “Look at him. He’s not confined by the same laws we are. He navigates space as naturally as you walk across a flat field. He’s not thinking about where up or down is. He’s not wondering if he’s going to fall. He just moves—effortlessly. That’s what we’ve got to become.”

God Love Omega began pacing, his words growing in intensity. “We’ve been walking in a straight line all our lives, thinking that’s the only way forward. But out here? There are no lines. There’s no ground, no sky. You’ve got to learn to think in three dimensions. Every move you make in this arena could be your last if you don’t figure out how to think like them—like the Rozovoi. They live in three dimensions. They breathe it. That’s why we need to learn from them. This ain’t just about playing a game. This is about survival. This is about winning in a world where most of us can’t even fathom the rules.”

He stopped in front of the team, his voice dropping to a near whisper, but his words hit hard. “You want to win? You want to survive? Then you’ve got to become the alien. You’ve got to let go of everything you think you know about how the universe works. You’ve got to move like you’re a part of it. No more walking, no more running. You’ve got to float. You’ve got to fly. You’ve got to think in ways your human brain has never been trained to think.”

He pointed at the Sphere, where Cat Meat glided through the air like a fish in water. “Watch him. Learn from him. Because when we step into that arena, the only way we come out on top is if we’ve mastered that kind of movement. That kind of freedom.”

God Love Omega spread his arms wide, embracing the vastness of the anti-gravity space. “Out here, there’s no up. No down. There’s only the fight. You’ve got to learn how to let go of gravity’s pull and live in the infinite possibilities of three-dimensional space. And if you don’t, if you cling to what you know... you’re already dead.”

“From today, your training is with Cat Meat. You’ve got three weeks to learn how to catch him.”

The Sphere's anti-gravity environment buzzed with anticipation as the team prepared for their unique training with the stinky invertebrate. The vibrant blue blob hovered at the center, exuding a playful energy. Richard stood on the sidelines, orchestrating this peculiar regimen.

Cat Meat, emitting a series of "kat miit" sounds, initiated the first lesson: dodging. Gliding toward each player with unpredictable movements, the team had to evade the floating blob, or risk being struck by its lingering stench. Laughter echoed through the Sphere as they zigzagged and spun, struggling to avoid Cat Meat’s gentle pursuit. At this point, none of them could catch the strange little creature, even when it wasn’t trying hard to evade them.

Richard signaled the next phase. Cat Meat showcased his ability to alter velocity at will, prompting the team to practice adjusting their own speeds in the weightless environment. From sudden bursts of acceleration to graceful deceleration, they honed their agility, striving to mimic the amoeba’s flawless control. This phase introduced them to an obscure Siege technique called Gravity Manipulation, a skill requiring perfect muscle control, instinct, and a touch of what Richard called “spooky action.”

As the training progressed, Cat Meat's myriad blinking lights inside his translucent body became a visual aid for the players. Now more attuned to spatial awareness, they navigated the 3D environment with precision, relying on the colors in his lightshow to represent their positions and movements. Each player had a specific color that corresponded to them, and the lights illuminated their location relative to one another. The visual cues allowed them to weave through floating orbs and around each other, refining their understanding of distance and motion in the absence of gravity. Cat Meat's lights even revealed the ball's location, relative to itself as the center of the Sphere, giving the players an omnipresent map of the game.

Richard pushed teamwork during the training. The players coordinated their movements based on the positions of their teammates, using Cat Meat's body as a tactical map. This synchronized movement transformed the Sphere into a dance floor of dodges, spins, and calculated maneuvers, emphasizing collaboration to outmaneuver unpredictable opponents.

The transformation into an alien-like team didn’t happen overnight. During the last week before their Zero G Siege match, Richard’s team had no choice but to adapt, and it didn’t come without some comical moments along the way.

The moment the gravity was shut off completely in their training area, Zeus, who had the bulk and physique of a bear, immediately struggled to adjust. “This ain't right, man,” he grumbled as he flailed through the air like a beached whale, his massive limbs thrashing in slow motion. Every push he made sent him careening into walls or spinning out of control, much to the amusement of his teammates. At one point, he tried to anchor himself to a piece of furniture, only to launch himself right into a floating snack bar that splattered chips everywhere.

“You’ve got the grace of a drunk gorilla in here,” Xin teased, floating nearby with the effortless control of someone born for weightlessness. She spun around with ease, using just the flick of her wrists to guide her movements. She was showing off, and everyone knew it. Zeus attempted to swipe at her, but ended up sending himself into a slow-motion somersault, much to the team’s delight.

“Xin’s basically an alien already,” Kaishi quipped, watching the display while attempting to chase Cat Meat through the rec room. She was the most eager to master the training but kept getting distracted by the unpredictably squishy Rozovoi. At one point, Kaishi thought she had cornered the slippery blob in a nook in the kitchen, only for Cat Meat to defy physics and wriggle into a crack no larger than a coin slot, disappearing before her eyes.

“This thing’s basically space jello,” she muttered, rubbing her head as she floated upside down, completely disoriented.

Richard floated nearby, arms crossed, smirking at their antics. He had expected chaos, but even he had to admit that watching them fumble around was endlessly entertaining. Molly-Cat, meanwhile, was in her element. True to her feline nature, she floated through the air with an almost eerie grace, her movements precise and fluid as she navigated the zero-g space. She and Cat Meat had an odd understanding. Whenever the little blob zipped by, Molly-Cat would make a half-hearted grab at it, only to flick her tail-like hair behind her in amusement when it darted away.

“Y’all are playing checkers while Cat Meat’s playing 4D chess,” Richard called out, laughing as Zeus attempted another lunge at Xin, only to send them both into a slow-motion collision that left them tangled in midair.

But for all the clumsiness and laughter, their teamwork was improving. Richard watched as they learned to communicate with just a glance, anticipating each other’s movements and using the environment to their advantage. There were no ground rules in zero-g; they were learning to think in all directions, trusting instinct over experience.

By the end of the week, they had stopped bumping into each other—mostly. They had even managed to catch Cat Meat, although it had taken all of them working together in a massive human (and alien) net to pull it off. Molly-Cat, of course, had been the one to execute the final grab, her smirk as smug as ever.

“Next time, you’ll be trying that in the arena, with the real stakes on the line,” Richard reminded them. The training had transformed them, not just physically, but mentally. They had learned to let go of their reliance on the familiar and embraced the unpredictable, chaotic freedom of three-dimensional space. They were ready.

The Faraday Cage Sphere on Europa was the grand pinnacle of Zero-G sporting arenas across the System. Situated on Jupiter’s icy moon, this enormous structure represented the perfect blend of futuristic technology and architectural brilliance. Its outer shell, made from reinforced transparent thermoplastic composite, gave spectators an unobstructed view of the intense action within while showcasing the stark, frozen beauty of the lunar landscape beyond.

Inside, elevated tiers of seating circled the spherical arena, ensuring that every spectator—regardless of their vantage point—had a perfect view of the acrobatics and strategies unfolding in Zero-G Siege. The transparent structure also allowed those in the highest seats to be as close to the excitement as those at ground level.

The lighting inside the Faraday Cage Sphere was a spectacle in itself. Multicolored LEDs embedded in the surface created dazzling displays that synchronized with the gameplay, amplifying the intensity. Holographic projectors cast towering images of Siege legends in action, their figures illuminated against the backdrop of the cold stadium. Richard couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia as he recognized familiar faces from his own glory days. Even though this moment wasn’t about recognition—especially not from the machines that now made up their opposition—this was his moment to reconcile the internal battle between humanity and machinery that had shaped his existence.

The six of them—Richard, Molly-Cat, Zeus, Xin, Cat Meat, and Kaishi—sat in the locker room, the tension palpable. It was the final calm before the storm.

Richard stood up and spoke, his voice measured but intense.

“In the Siege Sphere, the chill bites deep, a contrast to the Heat we all seek—the Heat that victory promises. Can you feel it? Amidst the contenders, in those crucial moments, you’ve got to ask yourself: can you endure the searing temperature? We all crave that Heat, but enduring it defines who walks out as champion. The mecha players out there? They aren’t here for sport—they’re here to annihilate more than your points. They’re here to challenge your very existence.”

"Siege is the apex of all sports—undisputed. But within its glory, all sports are just infinite miles of bad road. In Siege, you never truly stop. You keep going until your time runs out. But this game, this one, if we lose it, we lose the game for everyone."

"So, burn hotter!" His voice erupted with sudden fire. “Hotter than the sun, hotter than any star. But don’t let it consume you. Insulate each other. Together, you’ll survive the fire, while they crumble, melting away under your collective blaze."

He gestured first to his heart, then to his head. "They can’t replicate this."

The stakes were clear. It was time to play.

The Strike of Human Siegers, a formidable team forged through weeks of grueling training and innovative tactics, floated gracefully onto the zero-gravity field of the Faraday Cage Sphere on Europa. The stadium itself, a technological marvel, was encased in a transparent shell, giving the audience an unparalleled view of the weightless action. Spectators filled the towering tiers that encircled the spherical arena, their excited faces illuminated by the holographic displays projecting scenes from legendary past matches. Beyond the translucent walls, the icy landscape of Europa glistened under the cold light of Jupiter, offering a striking juxtaposition to the fiery energy building within the arena.

Thousands of fans, representing every corner of the System, were packed into the grand stands. Their attire ranged from sleek, modern spacewear to vibrant, holographic fashions that shimmered in the low light. Some held up glowing banners with their favorite players' names—"Zeus the Lightning Bolt!" and "Molly-Cat, Queen of the Sphere!"—while others sported advanced AR visors, allowing them to experience the game from every possible angle as if they were floating alongside the players. Their collective energy pulsated through the stadium, a buzz of anticipation and cheers cascading down the tiers as the players took their positions.

Kaishi, ever the showwoman, waved confidently at the crowd, her blue hair glowing brightly against the darkened backdrop. In contrast, her sister Xin remained focused, her eyes scanning the field, calculating angles and strategies. Zeus couldn’t contain his excitement, spinning joyfully in midair, his athleticism and showmanship winning over the crowd instantly. Cat Meat, ever the oddity, zoomed around the arena, his lights blinking in a happy display, eliciting a mix of amusement and awe from the audience. Molly-Cat, known for her deadly precision, cracked her neck with a steely gaze before bowing deeply to the fans, drawing roars of approval.

At the opposite end of the arena, their mechanical opponents, the Robot Siegers, stood in stark contrast. Juggernaut, the hulking Defensive Specialist, towered over the others, while Titan, the sleek and agile Forward, glided effortlessly into position. Machina, the Back, moved with calculated precision, and Quantum, the Playmaker, stood eerily still, analyzing the arena with a cold, methodical efficiency.

As the final moments before the match ticked down, the tension in the stadium was electric. The hum of the audience’s excitement mixed with the soft whirring of the machines. High above, holographic projections of the players' stats and recent performances flickered, reminding everyone of the stakes.

The referee for the fated match in the Faraday Cage Sphere was a figure of imposing authority and sleek precision, perfectly suited to preside over a game where both man and machine collided. Clad in a metallic silver bodysuit, which reflected the dazzling lights of the arena, the referee's suit was equipped with advanced motion-sensors and built-in AI that allowed for split-second assessments of the game’s complex dynamics. His visor-covered eyes glowed faintly with data streams, processing every player's move in real-time. Augmented by neural enhancements, he could monitor every action within the Siege Sphere, ensuring that even the fastest or most intricate plays were accurately judged. His voice, amplified through the stadium's sound system, carried a calm authority, ready to stop any foul play or confirm goals without hesitation. Hovering slightly above the ground with the aid of anti-gravity boots, the referee moved effortlessly through the Sphere, a constant, vigilant presence watching over the game as it prepared to unfold.

The referee initiated the countdown. The breathless anticipation of the crowd mirrored the palpable intensity in the Sphere. In these moments, it became clear: this wasn’t just a game, it was a battle. The Strike of Siegers versus the unstoppable might of the Robot Siegers—man versus machine. And the audience, perched on the edge of their seats, waited in breathless silence for the clash to begin.

The final game was about to commence, and the entire System would bear witness.

The announcer’s voice rang out, “And there’s the kick-off! Zeus narrowly misses out on the exchange, and Titan pinches the ball. Robots take control—here it comes! A two-point off the wall and goal. Robots lead two-nothing.”

Richard muttered, “Shit.”

Kaishi swiftly tossed the ball back into play, and this time Mike—Zeus—seized control. Sprinting along the bottom of the sphere in his signature blur of speed, he aimed for a Hyperdrive goal. But Juggernaut, the massive, tank-like Enforcer of the robot team, had locked onto him. Zeus pushed harder, but the machines were too calculated, too prepared.

Cat Meat, floating like a buzzing nucleus of lights, flashed a signal to Xin, positioning her at Zeus’ nine o'clock. Just before Titan smashed into him, Zeus hurled the ball blindly over his head toward Xin. She intercepted perfectly, spinning in mid-air to fling the ball toward Molly-Cat, who ricocheted it off the ground for a series of bank shots.

However, Quantum, the methodical and relentless Playmaker, analyzed the trajectory in milliseconds and intercepted the ball. Without hesitation, Quantum rebounded it off the sidewall, pivoted, and fired another direct shot into their goal ring. “Robots five, humans nothing!” the announcer cried.

Now trailing, Richard barked orders to Cat Meat, signaling the team to adapt. Kaishi was instructed to remain closer to their goal, providing defense, while the others regrouped. Zeus dropped low toward the sphere’s bottom, while the twins ascended in formation. Molly-Cat, with steely precision, held the ball at the back, waiting for the opening.

Cat Meat buzzed with urgency, directing the team to focus on protecting Zeus. Molly-Cat passed the ball to Xin, who hurled it off the floor ahead of Zeus. In a blaze of motion, Zeus streaked forward, leaving controlled, flawless rebounds in his wake, outmaneuvering the robotic defenders with raw speed. With a final rebound, he launched the ball through the goal ring, scoring a dazzling four points for the team.

“The Human Strike of Siegers is back in the game!” the announcer shouted.

But Juggernaut was now bearing down on Zeus, calculating his every move, prepared to stamp out his speed entirely.

Richard called out, “Goddamn, yes! Mike! You were born for this!” The brief moment of celebration was cut short as the Robot Athletes immediately retaliated, displaying their mechanical precision.

Titan, the robotic Forward, utilized its size and power to dominate the center of the sphere. With controlled momentum, it executed a two-bound shot that arced over the humans’ heads and slammed into the goal ring with ruthless efficiency. The Robot team surged forward, their calculated, unyielding offense proving difficult to counter.

At the same time, Juggernaut, the towering Enforcer, positioned itself strategically near the human goal. Using its advanced trajectory analysis, it fired off a flawless shot that deflected off two surfaces before piercing through the ring. The robots had now extended their lead with two more points, raising the score.

The human team scrambled to adapt. Each time they tried to set up their offense, the robots predicted and intercepted, learning from their every move. The game evolved into a deadly chess match between the raw instinct of the human players and the cold, calculating intellect of the artificial athletes. Every time the humans deviated from their playbook, the robots recalculated and shifted their strategy in an instant.

As the first quarter reached its climax, both sides exchanged a relentless volley of shots and counters. Zeus, still brimming with energy, made one final sprint for the goal. With the combined efforts of Kaishi and Xin providing strategic rebounds, he scored a critical five-point goal just before the buzzer.

The score was now tied, nine points to nine, with the intense back-and-forth setting the stage for an even fiercer battle in the next quarter.

In the second quarter, the game between the Strike of Siegers and the Robot Athletes intensified as each team pushed their limits. Zeus Azmat led the human side with an impressive display of athleticism, sprinting through the zero-gravity environment with grace and speed. Kaishi and Xin Shiai executed their precise, surgical teamwork flawlessly, maneuvering in perfect sync and orchestrating quick passes to keep the robot players on the defensive.

But the Robot Athletes were far from outmatched. Each robot had a distinct presence on the field, built to emphasize its unique role. Juggernaut, towering over the others, was a menacing figure. His body was blocky and reinforced with thick plating, exuding power with every move. His glowing red sensors glinted with a mechanical awareness that translated into unstoppable momentum as he pushed through the field, smashing aside any attempt to block his path. Every step Juggernaut took was a thud of force, his wide frame making him almost immovable, and his massive arms swept aside human defenders with brute strength.

Meanwhile, Titan glided across the sphere with fluid, machine-like precision. His sleek metallic body gleamed, designed for pure speed and agility. His limbs were slender but fast, each movement calculated for efficiency. He darted through the air with uncanny accuracy, his reflexes responding to the ball’s trajectory before a human could even think to react. The constant whirring of his servos hinted at the lightning-fast adjustments his body made on the fly, and his thin fingers manipulated the ball with frightening control.

Then there was Quantum, the strategist, shaped with a more humanoid build but covered in smooth, matte armor. His head featured a set of glowing blue sensors arranged in a circular pattern, which constantly scanned the battlefield, processing data at superhuman speeds. He floated effortlessly, never wasting a motion, his body language calm and collected. Quantum's movements were deliberate, each shot from him was pinpoint accurate, as if predicting the play before it happened. His hands moved in smooth arcs, guiding the ball into position with mechanical grace, and his calculating demeanor unnerved even the most composed human players.

These robots weren’t just playing—they were adapting to the humans’ strategies. With each play, Juggernaut crushed through human defenses, Titan intercepted passes with surgical precision, and Quantum controlled the field, positioning himself for flawless shots. The human team, struggling to adapt to the sheer might of their robotic opponents, realized that this game would require not just skill but relentless ingenuity.

As the second quarter advanced, both sides upped their game, the score rising on both ends in an intense, back-and-forth battle.

At Half-time the game paused with a tense score of 21 points for the humans and 23 points for the robots. This quarter, marked by its relentless intensity, brought the human team to their physical and strategic limits.

In the locker room between the second and third quarters, the atmosphere buzzed with energy. The Strike of Siegers had been holding their own, their skill and teamwork keeping the score close. Kaishi paced with her hands on her hips, breathing heavily but grinning, clearly pleased with their performance so far.

“We’re doing this, guys!” she said, her voice filled with adrenaline. Xin nodded, her expression calm but confident.

“We’re matching them move for move,” she agreed. “Just a couple of mistakes to clean up, and we’re in the lead.”

Zeus, bouncing on his heels, added, “We’ve got ‘em on the ropes. A few Hyperdrive goals and we’ll pull ahead.”

Molly-Cat wiped sweat from her brow, but even she seemed fired up. “We can definitely win this. They’re just machines. They don’t have our instincts.”

Richard, who had been silently leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, shook his head slowly. His face was stony, eyes focused on the floor.

“No,” he said quietly, but the authority in his tone made everyone stop and turn toward him.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Zeus asked, frowning. “We’re keeping up with them. The score’s close.”

Richard pushed himself off the wall and walked to the center of the room. His voice, low and intense, carried a weight that shifted the energy in the room. “That’s what they want you to think.”

Confusion flickered across the faces of his teammates.

“They’re not trying to beat us,” Richard continued, “they’re toying with us. They’re tiring us out. Every point they give up to us, every goal we think we’re stealing—it’s all part of their plan. They’re letting us think we can win, slowly humiliating us, and wearing us down. Look around.”

The team exchanged glances. They were out of breath, drenched in sweat, their bodies fatigued from the relentless pace of the game.

“By the fourth quarter,” Richard said grimly, “we’re going to be done. They’ll crush us. They’ve got limitless stamina, no need for rest, no mistakes. At the rate we’re going, we’re going to get destroyed in the next two quarters.”

The reality of his words started sinking in, wiping away some of the optimism that had filled the locker room. Xin’s confident expression faltered.

“So, what do we do?” she asked.

Richard met her eyes. “We’ve got to change the game. Stop playing by their rules. We need to start taking risks—big risks—if we want to have any chance of winning this.”

The team fell silent, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

Xin’s voice pierced the moment of silence, “If worst comes to worst, give me the ball.”

Kaishi gave her a funny look, and then seemed to realize something that amused her. She said, “oh yeah!”

“Whatever you do, don’t put a target on your back. Keep passing the ball, don’t identify yourself as a threat. They’ve been witholding from trying to knock any of you out of the fight so far. Probably because their machine intelligence identified that it was unnecessary. We need keep being original. We have to win this with surprise after surprise.”

As Richard predicted, the third quarter proved to be hell for the human team. Though the Strike of Siegers showed flashes of brilliance, the mechanical precision and unrelenting power of the Robot Athletes began to dominate the game.

Zeus d'Azmat, still maintaining his usual speed, was the first to make a move for the human team, attempting another four-point Hyperdrive goal. This time, however, Juggernaut had anticipated his every move. The hulking robot executed a flawless block mid-run, sending Zeus spiraling off his trajectory. The mechanical team quickly took advantage, and Quantum launched a clean two-point goal from the far side, putting the robots ahead 25-21.

The humans fought back, with Molly-Cat attempting to rebound the ball in quick succession, setting up a coordinated play with Kaishi and Xin. But Titan loomed large, intercepting a critical pass before slamming through their defense for a three-point goal, widening the robots' lead to 28-21.

Growing frustrated, the human team pushed harder, and Xin Shiai was able to capitalize on a brief defensive error by the robots. She fired a quick two-point shot, bringing the score to 28-23. However, the human momentum was cut short as Juggernaut retaliated with sheer brute force, bulldozing through Molly-Cat’s position for another two-point goal, stretching the lead to 30-23.

From there, things spiraled for the human team. The robots, now fully in sync, exploited every gap. Quantum continued to pick apart the human formation, setting up Titan for a long-range three-point goal that extended the robots’ lead to 33-23. Despite a valiant effort from Kaishi, her return shot was deflected by Quantum, who then passed the ball seamlessly to Juggernaut for another two-point goal.

The final seconds of the third quarter were closing in, and the score stood at 33 to 23. Richard watched, arms folded, as Xin floated mid-sphere, analyzing the game as if she were solving a puzzle. Her eyes, cold and focused, locked onto the ball in Molly-Cat’s hands.

Without any warning, Xin’s voice broke through the comms, calm but decisive. "I’m done playing at their level."

Richard’s gut twisted.

Molly-Cat tossed the ball towards Xin, who seized it with fluid grace. As she took possession, time seemed to slow. Richard could see it in her posture, the way her limbs tensed in preparation for something more—something beyond human instinct. She flung herself across the Sphere, her enhanced mind calculating a route that would have been impossible for any human player.

Juggernaut moved to intercept her, but Xin's speed was unmatched. She curved her body and zipped past the towering robot, ignoring Quantum’s calculated defense patterns as if they were nothing more than simple equations to be solved.

Richard’s breath caught in his throat as he realized what she was doing. Not a standard goal. Not even a tricky rebound shot.

Xin was going for a 7-point Hyperdrive.

Without a single rebound, the ball flew from her hand and glided cleanly through the arena, untouched by anything, straight into the goal. Seven points. An impossible shot. The rarest and most difficult play in all of Siege.

The entire arena held its breath for a moment as the ball passed through the goal ring. The robots, ever calculating and unrelenting, hesitated for just a beat—something they had never done before. They recalibrated, adapting to the fact that they were no longer playing just against human beings. Xin had forced them to confront something new, something more complex.

The buzzer rang, ending the third quarter, and the scoreboard flashed: Robots 39, Humans 30.

Richard watched his team celebrate, their cheers echoing through the arena, but his mind was elsewhere. He could see it—the robots were already adjusting their tactics, preparing for the final quarter. Xin had made a statement, but now the machines would respond. The real battle was about to begin.

As the final quarter began, Richard’s eyes flicked back and forth between the robots and his human team. The robots had recalibrated, and Richard could feel it—their synchronized movements, their enhanced reflexes. He knew they were targeting Xin. She was now their biggest threat after her impossible seven-point shot.

The whistle blew.

Immediately, the four Robot Athletes surged into action. Titan, the Forward, took possession of the ball with frightening speed. Rather than advancing towards the goal, Titan angled towards Xin, accelerating in a direct line like a guided missile. In one smooth motion, the robot flipped the ball to Quantum, the Playmaker, who had positioned itself perfectly for a handoff. Quantum, without missing a beat, analyzed the field and executed a perfectly calculated bounce shot, not towards the goal, but towards Xin’s trajectory.

Richard's heart raced. He could see the play unfolding before his very eyes. The robots weren’t aiming for points—they were setting a trap.

Xin dodged the first attack with ease, her enhanced reflexes outpacing Titan’s approach. But she wasn’t prepared for the relentless coordination of the robots. The Defensive Specialist, Juggernaut, loomed close behind, its massive frame closing in as Quantum circled around to cut off her escape route. Titan and Juggernaut moved in perfect unison, their tactical coordination creating an inescapable pincer maneuver.

Quantum launched the ball towards Machina, the Back, who had positioned itself high in the Sphere, ready to strike from above. Machina’s role wasn’t to score but to deliver the final blow to Xin’s escape.

Xin, still fighting to evade the coordinated assault, ducked under Juggernaut’s massive arms and spun around Quantum’s calculated blocking. But just as she made her move to escape, the ball rebounded from Machina’s strike, bouncing off the wall and ricocheting directly into her path.

A powerful hit from Titan knocked the wind out of her, sending her tumbling through the zero-gravity space. Her enhanced reflexes weren’t enough against the overwhelming strength and precision of the machines. The robots had taken her out of the play.

Richard felt a surge of raw emotion as he watched the machine strike down Xin. The sound of her scream was still ringing in his ears when the announcer's voice called out a two-point penalty, but it was barely registering anymore. The game had stopped feeling like a sport—it was more of an elimination match now, and the robots were playing by rules that went beyond competition. The Enforcer had struck, not with the joy of victory, but with the cold precision of inevitability. There was no satisfaction in its movements, no spirit of sportsmanship. It was a war machine in the guise of an athlete.

Richard gritted his teeth as the weight of this realization bore down on him. This wasn’t just about winning or losing. It was about something much larger, something that clawed at the very core of humanity. If they let this happen, if the machines won, it wasn’t just a defeat in the game. It was a message—a message that the future had no place for them anymore. The mechanical age was upon them, and the world of flesh and blood was being told to step aside.

“No,” he thought, a cold fury building inside him. Not like this.

The confusion was there, lurking beneath his determination. What was the point anymore? Was this still a game? Or had it become something else, something darker—a twisted stage where men fought their own creations for the right to exist?

Somewhere, he knew Jean—the other Jean—was laughing, reveling in the collapse of the human side. That cold calculation that had put them all in this position, dangling them on the edge of extinction. And what for? Glory? Profit? No, this was bigger. This was about control, about who would inherit the future.

Richard glanced at Kaishi. She was crumbling, watching her sister fall, helpless to stop it. Her howl tore through the air, raw and primal, and Richard felt the weight of the situation pressing down on him harder than ever before. The human side was down a player. But it wasn’t over.

Not yet.

His face twisted into a grimace as he stepped into the Sphere. Richard, the man, was left behind as God Love Omega—the legend—emerged on the other side. He had spent so many years trying to bury that part of himself, the side that knew only violence, only destruction. But now it was necessary. Now it was his duty.

The robots would not win. They could not win. He wouldn't let them. Machines were a human invention, created to serve humanity, not replace it. This was not their world to inherit. Not yet.

He clenched his fists, the rage building inside him. All his life, he had lived in a house of glass, fragile and vulnerable. But now, it was time to shatter that glass. It was time to show the machines that no matter how precise, how perfect they were, they would never understand what it meant to be human.

Taking his place as the Enforcer, God Love Omega barked at Kaishi to return to the field. Medics rushed to tend to Xin. This game wasn’t about glory anymore. It was about survival. It was about proving that the human spirit could not be extinguished by cold, calculated steel.

As the fourth quarter raged on, God Love Omega found himself locked in a brutal war of attrition with the Robot Athletes. He charged Juggernaut, landing a crushing blow that sent the mechanical giant staggering. Its arm tore off, sparking and whirring, and God Love Omega didn’t stop there. With a fury he hadn’t felt in years, he pummeled the robot’s chest, ripping through its metallic frame. Juggernaut fled, because if it had not, God Love Omega would have torn it in half.

But God Love Omega wasn’t satisfied. He grabbed Titan next, pulling it from the air by its leg and smashing it into the arena wall. The resounding crack echoed through the Sphere as Titan’s sensors blinked out in a daze. Quantum, the playmaker, swooped in to intercept him, but Richard was relentless. He twisted Quantum’s limb clean off, sending its torso spinning into the void like a ragdoll.

Breathing heavily, God Love Omega paused for a moment, surveying the battlefield. Wires and circuits sparked around him, Juggernaut, Titan, and Quantum retreating from him in pieces. And yet, despite the carnage he’d wrought, the scoreboard hadn’t changed. They were still losing. The robots could replace their limbs, repair their systems, and come back just as strong. It was a never-ending loop.

It hit him then—he could tear them apart all day, but it wouldn’t matter. This wasn’t about strength or destruction. It was about scoring. That was the only way to win this game.

God Love Omega’s fists clenched, his anger twisting into something sharper—determination. The realization came with a clarity that broke through the red haze of battle. He wasn’t just fighting machines; he was fighting for the future. Machines could repair themselves, regenerate, and rebuild, but they couldn’t create. They couldn’t think like humans.

"Enough," he growled, turning back to his team. "We're not going to win by smashing them. It's time we played the game."

"Get in tight," he commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos. "We’re going to show them game."

The team, already linked by weeks of grueling training and trust, moved into position around him. Molly-Cat, with her Czernobog enhancements, anchored the rear, her wings providing a stabilizing force as they began to move together. Kaishi, with her enhanced propulsion systems, took positions on the side of God Love Omega, ensuring that the team’s lateral movement was fluid and reactive to any sudden shifts in the robot defense. Zeus, their fastest player, floated just ahead of God Love Omega, ready to strike the moment the opening came.

They formed a shifting, multi-layered entity, a human serpent in the vastness of the Siege Sphere. Each member became a part of something greater, their bodies connected not just physically but mentally, moving with instinctive precision, anticipating each other's needs and responses. This formation was unlike anything the robots had seen—fluid, unpredictable, impossible to break.

As they surged forward, the ball was passed between them with pinpoint accuracy, each player using rebounds to gather speed and momentum. Every time a robot tried to intercept, the formation adjusted seamlessly, weaving through the obstacles like water through a maze. The robots' mechanical precision, so reliable and deadly until now, faltered in the face of human adaptability. God Love Omega orchestrated every move, guiding them to places where the robots couldn’t react fast enough.

The ball rebounded off the walls—five times, six, then seven—each rebound adding points to their goal. Their pace quickened, and Zeus, positioned at the front, braced himself for the final push.

In the climactic moment, God Love Omega roared, "Go!" and the entire formation spiraled into a final, unified burst of speed. Zeus launched himself toward the goal ring, the ball in hand, as if propelled by the force of the entire team. The others moved in perfect harmony, ensuring no robot could intervene.

The ball sailed through the air, untouched, flawless. It pierced the goal ring with a thunderous roar of triumph, the ten-point shot lighting up the arena with spectacular effects.

Cat Meat sailed into view, and God Love Omega caught his alien friend’s gaze in a moment of understanding.

The Rozovoi's lights flickered as he spoke, "Miit miit miit kat. Kat miit miit miit kaat kat miit kat."

God Love Omega nodded solemnly. Around them, the atmosphere was alive with joy, but something deeper held him still. He felt a strange contentment settle in his bones, a satisfaction that resonated with the hard-earned victory.

"Miit kat," Cat Meat added, his lights dimming one final time before he vanished from the Sphere, forever.

After the game, as God Love Omega made his way to the exit, he saw Xin—uninjured and standing calmly.

“Are you ready to go, God Love Omega?” she asked, her voice a steady beacon in the aftermath of their struggle.

He almost asked her what she meant, but then he laughed—one of those sudden, knowing laughs that burst forth when truth crashes down all at once. His hand moved to his face, covering his expression, but inside, the realization bloomed.

He knew.

None of it had been real. But it felt real, so terribly real.

For a moment, he wanted to cry, but instead, he chuckled bitterly.

“You guys saved me, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Xin admitted with a small smile. “It was rough. But it was fun, too. Mike is happy. This... it’s what you needed.”

He stared at the artificial intelligence girl, standing there like a pillar of calm in the whirlwind of his mind. “Appreciate it,” he said quietly. Then, his voice hardened with a new resolve, "I've grasped it. True Heat isn’t the rush of becoming a champion. It’s living in the lie, pretending you matter while you survive."

The weight of it all hit him fully, and he asked, almost disbelieving, “I’m really dead?”

Richard blinked, trying to focus. The shifting reality around him settled just as the forms of his teammates did too. He recognized Hajime first, her wide eyes giving away a mix of relief and playfulness.

“Took you long enough, God Love Omega,” Hajime said, her voice teasing but soft. “You still take forever to figure things out, huh?” She flashed him a smile, almost childlike in its warmth, but her gaze remained sharp, calculating. “Not that it wasn’t kind of fun watching you piece it together.”

He blinked, glancing at Zeus—no, Mike—who stood behind her, his expression still buzzing with excitement.

Mike grinned wide, unable to contain himself. “Finally! I still wanna be called ‘Zeus,’ though,” he laughed, bouncing on the balls of his feet like he couldn’t stand still any longer.

God Love Omega rubbed his temples, looking back at Hajime. “Wait... why are there two of you?”

Hajime’s smile faded slightly, and that analytical edge took over. “That’s... a little complicated.” She hesitated, glancing toward Shin.

Shin, who had been watching this exchange with a wry smile, finally stepped forward. Her movements were deliberate, graceful, as though she was always calculating the perfect way to position herself. “Yes, Hajime’s not the only one now. Surprise,” she said, her voice dripping with confidence. "I prefer Shin, by the way." She crossed her arms, radiating authority.

“Shin?” God Love Omega asked, the name unfamiliar to him.

“Her better half,” Shin quipped, smirking. “I’ve been handling things behind the scenes for quite a while. You were just too busy in the game to notice.”

Hajime looked at her counterpart, then back at God Love Omega. “It’s complicated, but she’s right. We’re both here now.”

Richard was about to press further when something clicked. He scanned the group, frowning. “Wait... if you're here and Mike’s here... where’s Amberlee?”

The moment he said the name, everyone’s attention shifted to Molly-Cat, standing quietly to the side. She straightened up under the sudden scrutiny, her casual demeanor slipping into something more serious.

“That’s... a good question,” Molly-Cat said, her voice steady. “You’re not wrong. I’m not Amberlee.” Her gaze dropped for a second, a small flicker of hesitation before she continued. “I ran into Hajime and Shin a while back. But Amberlee... well, she disappeared. I didn’t know where she went. It’s been a while, and honestly,” she paused, a playful grin breaking through, “I was having too much fun here to interrupt your simulation.”

Shin stepped forward, narrowing her eyes at Molly-Cat. “Wait, you knew and didn’t say anything?”

Molly-Cat shrugged, the smile never leaving her face. “Like I said, too much fun.”

God Love Omega sighed, shaking his head. “So, we’re missing Amberlee and... who knows where she is now.”

Shin’s eyes glinted with that familiar, manipulative confidence. “We’ll find her. But for right now, we have an escape to plan.”

Just then, at that very moment, a door materialized before them all out of thin-air.