The sky loomed grey as the drone hovered closer to the field, its lens zooming in with gleeful anticipation. “Thirteen, unlucky for some!” it boomed, as random pings vibrated along the blue team’s line, signalling the start of yet another brutal round.
Across the pitch, the red team’s thirteen players closed in, circling around a single red player holding the ball in their half. They huddled tightly, arms linked, exchanging brief, urgent whispers as they arranged their strategy.
“Come here,” one of the red players muttered, gesturing with a nod. “You go there.” A quick, controlled shuffle rippled through their formation, each player shifting to lock into place, until a formidable circle was formed with the ball handler at the centre.
Sakura watched from the blue goalline, a sense of unease settling over her as she took in their formation. The reds were not just playing to win, they were moving with discipline like soldiers, closing ranks.
From somewhere among the blue outfield players, a younger year cursed under his breath. “How the hell do we break through that?”
A senior blue player, standing at the spearhead of the blue players, took a quick, assessing glance at the red team’s tight formation. “Come on,” he barked over his shoulder, his voice steady with resolve. “Let’s get them!” He surged forward, and with him, the rest of the blue team charged, fanning out behind him in a rough formation as they closed in on the red team.
With each step, the tension on the field grew thicker, anticipation and dread woven together as both teams braced for impact.
The blue team reached the red’s circle first, each player throwing their weight into the clash. The initial contact was brutal shoves, grunts, and desperate pushes as the blues attempted to break the wall of red. But the reds stood their ground, their linked arms and resolute stances creating an unyielding shield.
One red player, bolder than the rest, leaned forward and rammed his head into a blue player, forcing him back with a painful shove. Another blue player tried to punch through the line, but was immediately countered as the reds inched closer toward the halfway line, slowly advancing like an impenetrable unit.
Sakura could only watch the clash from the goal line, they tried to press through, but every shove they delivered was met with an equal, unrelenting resistance. Her teammates fought desperately, every foot lost risked their lives, but the red formation continued its slow, ominous march forward, pushing the blues back step by step.
“We’re close,” muttered the red player at the centre, his voice low and gritty, as they neared the eighteen-yard mark. “Ready?”
With a sudden gesture, unspoken agreement, the reds suddenly broke formation, scattering into a new assault, the ball lost within the confusion. Chaos erupted as blues and reds collided, each side trying to control the frantic burst of movement.
“Push, clear them out!” shouted a red player from the back as the ball soared forward. The field became a whirlwind of punches, shoves, and desperation. Bodies tangled, legs swung, and close-range shots and deflections filled the next few moments. No one had a clear advantage; each attempt on goal was met with fierce opposition, and the ball skidded wildly across the field, moving unpredictably through the fray.
At last, a red forward broke free from the brawl, finding an opening close to the goal. With a swift kick, he sent the ball flying, just barely dodging a blue keeper's attempt to block it. The ball shot toward the goal, hitting its target with a forceful thud.
A victorious cheer rose from the red team as the siren blared and lights flashed on the blue wall, signalling the blue team’s loss. Sakura’s heart sank as the turret’s ominous pings began to sound, marking the blue players closest to the goal.
Thirteen of the blue defenders stared in horror as their IDs lit up. A series of metallic pops filled the air, and they dropped one after another, eliminated by the turret’s merciless aim. Panic spread quickly through the remaining blue players, their confidence shaken as they glanced nervously toward the goal.
One of the remaining blues muttered, “What’s the point…” his voice trailing off in despair.
Sakura felt the chill of hopelessness begin to creep over her, but the sight of her teammates’ fear spurred her on. She clenched her fists, trying to summon the courage to press on, even as their numbers dwindled and the stakes grew deadlier by the second.
“11,000 Points are now up for play for those lucky few!” the chipper drone danced, displaying 17 vs 30”
The familiar, ominous ping vibrated against Sakura’s chest as her ID activated. She stepped off the goal line, feeling an unnerving dread. She scanned the field and spotted her next opponent, a first-year girl from the red team, standing just beyond her team’s line.
“The fans have asked for it, we are happy to provide it, a classic, 1v1” as the drone chirped echoed above the pair.
The girl looked no older than thirteen, her red ID glowing with a muted flicker as she took a hesitant step forward. Her dark hair clung to her forehead, her face pale, and her eyes wide with fear that went beyond the game. The drone circled above them, the camera zooming in close.
Sakura approached the ball at the halfway line, her heart hammering as the red player stopped just shy of the 18 yard box. The girl’s shoulders trembled, her gaze fixed on the ground rather than on Sakura. She didn’t seem angry, or even nervous, she just looked defeated, despite her time at her back shouting at her, as if the will to fight had been stripped from her completely.
“I... I don’t want to play,” the girl murmured, her voice barely audible. Yet it was picked up on camera.
The drone’s speaker crackled to life, its tone taunting. “Forfeit?”
The girl flinched, her eyes darting to the hovering drone, and shook her head desperately. “No… no,” she whispered, though the words seemed directed more at herself than at the drone.
Sakura felt a surge of frustration bubble up, clenching her fists. “You’ve got to try,” she urged, her voice harsher than she intended. She took a steadying breath and stepped into the red half, her voice softening. “Look, I don’t want die either, but… we can’t give up.”
The girl looked up, and for the first time, their gazes met. Sakura saw something haunting in her eyes, an emptiness that was far older than her age should have allowed. The girl swallowed hard, her voice shaking. “I’m not… I’m not like them,” she said, glancing briefly at her teammates on the red line. “I saw them… back there, when it started. I saw them go from scared to… to monsters. I just wanted to survive, but this isn’t surviving. This is murder.”
The girl flashes her ID
Rank/Name: Student Haruka
Kill(s): 6
Points:350
Special Item: None
Team: Red
Sakura felt her throat tighten, the girl’s words striking a chord deep within her. The fear, the hopelessness, it was all so familiar. They were both trapped, forced into this twisted game with no way out, and yet here they were, facing off against each other like animals in a cage.
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She wanted to say something, anything to ease the fear in the girl’s eyes. But the weight of the game, the stakes pressing down on her own shoulders, silenced the words in her throat.
“Come on, just…” Sakura’s voice cracked as she tried to keep her own emotions in check. “Just come at me. Please Haruka.” as she belts the ball down field to her.
The girl hesitated, gripping the ball tightly, her hands trembling. She cast one last glance at her red teammates before taking a shaky breath and moving toward her team, bringing the ball slowly along her. Sakura could see the reluctance in every step, her gaze locked on the ground, each movement hesitant.
“I didn’t want to kill anyone, I am not a murder” the girl murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Sakura could feel her own frustration flare up, checking her own ID for the first time since starting the game, as it twisted into a sharp edge.
Rank/Name: Student Sakura
Kill(s): 9
Points:50
Special Item: None
Team: Blue
Anger replaced the fear in her gut, her patience snapping as she watched the girl inch closer to her own wall with a hollow expression.
Before Sakura could react, the girl, with a last look of quiet resignation, aimed the ball at her own goal and struck it. Sakura’s heart dropped as she realised what was happening, everyone watched silently as the ball ricocheted off the red goal wall with a sickening finality.
“No!” Sakura’s voice came out in a broken shout as the girl stepped back, her hands trembling at her sides. Yuma, watching from the sidelines, covered her mouth in horror, her eyes wide as the consequences set in.
“I’m going to save a life,” Haruka whispered with steel resolve, casting a faint smile. She closed her eyes, finding peace within.
The drone’s voice boomed over the field, “Elimination in progress.”
The red player’s ID lit up with a final fatal ping, her eyes widening with terror as the turret above focused on her. Sakura turned away as the metallic pop echoed across the pitch, the girl crumpling to the ground with a haunting stillness.
Something snapped inside Sakura. She could feel the hot flood of anger rushing through her veins, her vision blurring as the reality of the game’s brutality hit her full force. This wasn’t a game, this wasn’t something she wanted to be, a murderer.
As she watched the janitor bot roll onto the field, its mechanical arms reaching out to bag Haruka's lifeless form, Sakura clenched her fists, her knuckles white. Her breathing came in shallow gasps as the drone’s voice chirped in the background. “Look at this jackpot, 11450 points!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Sakura yelled, her voice raw with anger. She glared up at the drone, feeling the weight of her rage burning through the last remnants of her fear. She couldn’t bear to watch it any longer, it was a nightmare, and she felt trapped, suffocating under the weight of it.
The drone’s usual chipper tone was gone, replaced by a cold, unfeeling command. “Please return to your position,”
Sakura’s jaw clenched at the sound, its authority leaving no room for defiance. As she made her way back to her side, her steps heavy with frustration, she could feel the hollow stares of her teammates.
Meanwhile, high above in the cold confines of his office, the principal reclined in his leather chair, wine swirling lazily in his hand. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched the match unfold on a series of monitors. The crowd of students moved like pawns, a precise dance of desperation. His gaze flickered between the screens, lingering on a live counter at the bottom: 29 vs. 17.
He leaned back, letting the wine linger on his tongue as a shadowed figure appeared by holo display from a drone, a figure who represented everything these games were designed for. The counter on the screen flashed, updating with each elimination, 11,450 points amassed. But his smirk grew darker.
“Final few students,” he muttered, almost to himself, as he lifted his glass. His voice, smooth and chilling, reverberated in the empty room. “Time to end this… make them pay.” The words slipped through his lips like a command.
Below, the players braced themselves as the next match began. Now, only ten called out on each side. Sakura’s voice cut through the tense murmurs of her team like a blade. “Alright, everyone, stick close!” she called, her tone calm but urgent. “You two, with me at the back. Everyone else, push forward and cover the flanks!”
Sakura and her remaining five teammates held the goal line as best they could, determined to last. Across the pitch, the red team passed the ball with a confidence that bordered on taunting, weaving around the blue forwards. The reds called out, their shouts ringing over the field. “Rush them!” one sneered. “This is easy. We’re going to win.”
The red team pushed aggressively down the right flank. Sakura called out, “Come at us!” as her teammate moved in to pressure the reds’ lead attacker. One of the red players attempted a quick cross, sending the ball hurtling across the field, but Sakura’s leg shot out just in time, deflecting it mid-air. “Clear it!” she yelled, her voice fierce.
A blue defender on her right reacted instantly, sending the ball soaring across the field where a blue forward found himself wide open, the ball at his feet. The reds scrambled to recover. “Get back!” came a frantic shout from the red team as they struggled to realign.
The ball found its way to the blue forward, who aimed and fired a powerful shot. But before the game could advance, a siren blared across the field. Sakura’s head snapped up as several red players, caught too close to the line of fire, were struck by turret shots. One of the reds desperately grabbed a younger blue player, using him as a shield. “Let go of me!” the younger player cried, struggling to break free.
In the chaos, a janitor bot rolled up behind the red player, armed with a taser. With a zap and a scream, the red player crumpled to the ground, allowing the blue player to escape his grip. The bot then turned and continued clearing the pitch, pushing the fallen reds aside.
The drone’s voice crackled over the field, its cheerful tone almost mocking. “It’s all to play for, folks! The reds lead by two, but it’s anyone’s game!”
In a sudden twist, 16 reds vs 16 blues, the blue entire team, called outfield, Takanashi took his place at the heart of his team’s formation. His presence was unmistakable, his gaze cold glanced over at Sakura, who had been directing the defence.
“You got a plan?” Takanashi asked, his voice low but steady. He didn’t look directly at her, keeping his eyes trained on the reds.
A red senior sneered as he shouts down field, “Don’t get cocky,” as he practises a few kick ups, his eyes flicking over the blue team’s formation with a look of steely focus.
Sakura gave a slight nod, her gaze intense. “If we form a line for defence and you lead a push through, we might be able to break them down. We’ll have to lock arms to get enough force.”
Takanashi took a deep breath, giving a quick nod of agreement. “All right, everyone, listen up!” he barked to the team. “We’re locking arms and pushing forward as one. No one breaks formation.” His tone was calm, commanding, and the other players fell in line, steeling themselves for the confrontation.
Takanashi turned threw a worried glance toward Sakura and a younger year student, “You two, hang back, protect the line incase they go over the top”
“Right,” Sakura said, eyes narrowed as she surveyed Takanashi’s group. “Line up across the pitch and push up.”
As the two teams squared off by the halfway line, the reds once again formed a tight circle around their player with a ball. The reds eyed the blues line encircling them with a mixture of wariness and confidence, clearly ready to defend their hold on the ball.
Takanashi raised her voice, rallying her teammates. “On my count one, two, push!”
With a surge of energy, the blue team charged forward, their linked arms creating a human battering ram. The reds braced for impact, but the strength of the blues' combined push sent a ripple through their defences. Takanashi’s voice rang out, a fierce encouragement as he anchored the blue team’s line. “Keep pushing!”
For a moment, it seemed as though the reds would hold them back. But blue students' persistence and Takanashi’s unyielding strength finally broke through, scattering the red circle as Takanashi trampled over the collapsed players.
One of the red players cursed, their gaze darting to the ball that had rolled loose amidst the struggle. “We lost it! Where’s the ball?”
Sakura’s eyes locked onto the loose ball, and with determination she sprinted forward. “There it is!” She kicked it down the field, sending it soaring toward the red goal, but just before it could reach its target, a red player intercepted, sending it flying back.
Takanashi took advantage of the scattered reds, charging back and regaining control of the ball. He shot a quick look toward Sakura and gave a slight nod. “Get ready. I’ll clear the way.”
He passed her the ball with fierce accuracy before manoeuvring through the remaining reds with an agility that caught even Sakura by surprise. His intimidating presence and relentless push seemed to momentarily shake the reds’ confidence, and Sakura seized the opening, driving the ball forward with Takanashi leading followed by a few other blue students by her side.
In one final, coordinated effort, Sakura and the others launched the ball toward the red goal, the siren blaring as it struck the wall. Lights flashed across the field, signalling the goal, and the red team’s collective dread echoed across the pitch.
But the drone’s voice boomed above, cutting through their moment of victory. “Well, well, well! It’s 16 vs 2! Things are getting interesting!” The tally adjusted over 13,000 points as some of the red accepted their faith, and others scrambled as the turret picked them off one by one.