(A month later)

The tournament trials were a bigger event than Norman anticipated.

At least a thousand people were gathered here to watch the twelve teams from different cohorts battle it out. Unlike the practice sessions, which were conducted in smaller stadiums within the Illustrious Torus, the actual trials were conducted on larger fields on the planet's surface. Based on the results of these trials, the winning six teams would proceed to the next round.

The air was thick with anticipation and excitement - the scent of freshly popped popcorn wafted in from the corners. A mass of both students and staff, clad in team colors, filled the stands; their voices echoed through the large open space as the first team emerged mounted on the hoverboards.

As the anticipation built up towards the start of the game, the seconds ticked by like an eternity. The energy was infectious, spreading from fan to fan as the crowd jumped to their feet, waving banners and signs with unwavering support for their team.

Arianna sat far up on one of the stands. Their eyes met, and she gleefully waved at him.

Norman's cohort was unfortunately the last on the list. However, the matches were time-bound to forty-five minutes. And for Norman, just watching the unrelated players was now an invaluable experience.

As he watched the players jostle with the ball high up in the air, his companion overlaid the paths of their trajectories, as well as other potential paths they could have taken. Over the last few weeks, it had gotten even better, and he himself had gotten better at following its suggestions.

Finally, the chime sounded and it was their team's turn.

As they mounted their hoverboards, a few people cheered. They were relatively unknown on campus. Norman individually was well known, but the rest of his team was not. And even among people who followed Norman, the overlap of people interested in Yokidon was relatively low.

Their team rose up into the air. A light, gentle breeze stroked through their hairs, offering a cool respite from the summer heat.

Their opposing team consisted of Captain Gorka, a mean-looking guy in his early twenties, accompanied by two pale, dark-haired girls who introduced themselves as Illa and Norma, and two heavily built individuals who looked to be in their late twenties or early thirties, whose names Norman gave up on.

Over the course of the next twenty minutes, it became evident that the opposing jostlers were exceptionally proficient.

As they brought the ball close to the post Norman was guarding, suddenly one of the jostlers straight-up collided with Norman's board. The imbalance forced him away from the post, and the opposing team immediately scored a goal.

Direct collisions were against the rules. So the opposing team was awarded a negative, annulling their goal. There was no protest - the captain gracefully accepted the decision and apologized.

However, Norman began to notice irregularities after that.

As he tried to follow the streaks shown by his companions, his hoverboard navigation attempts got imprecise. He never ended up exactly where he intended to.

The difference was not large enough to be too obvious to the audience, but at the same time, it was imprecise enough to make his moves erratic.

Frustration mounted as his attempt to block an incoming ball failed, and the ball he deflected got redirected towards one of the opposing jostlers who promptly picked it up and directed it into the goal post.

He saw Captain Gorka smirk. The fingers of his left hand were subtly curved, making a vulgar gesture.

They had done something to his hoverboard. He might be able to prove tampering - or he might not. There were plenty of ways to mask intrusions. And Norman was not a skilled hacker.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

An alien sensation of deep indignation rose within Norman. He suppressed it, and decided to try his best to compensate for the imprecision.

Despite his own shortcomings, his team was doing pretty well. Over the next ten minutes, they did manage to score a single goal. But the opposing team was still in the lead. And now and then, they continued to throw insults and rude gestures in their directions, dampening the experience further.

Eventually, in the last minute of the match, captain Gorka pushed the ball towards the post at an oblique angle in a fantastic stroke. As Norman pushed himself up, suddenly his motion faltered, and he ended up several inches below. His companion immediately adjusted, though. And pointed him to a location that he couldn't reach.

Norman was confused for a second, but a translucent black silhouette of his hand showed him a motion. Norman was stupefied as he understood his companion's intent. Throwing a baton was not against the rules. It was just so ridiculous that nobody really did it.

As Norman threw his baton at a tilted angle, the ball was pushed away.

The beaming Gorka had already turned away and was waving to a cheering crowd. He had taken off his helmet and was now roaring in the air, assuming himself to be the winner. But suddenly the crowd's cheer died down as Norman's flying baton deflected the ball. Mira immediately whisked away the ball towards Bran and handed Norman her own baton, effectively pulling herself away from the game.

Gorka realized a bit too late what had happened. Steaming with anger, he incredulously glared towards Norman, and Bran scored the second goal.

The opponent jostlers had not given up, though. After the goal, they quickly pulled the ball away. Norma blocked Mira's every single attempt to get it back, and brought the ball back towards Norman's post yet again. Five seconds to the end of the game.

This time, Norman just didn't have the time to choose among multiple complex maneuvers. He instinctively followed the brightest trajectory that his companion showed, pushed through, and deflected the ball.

A wave of relief flooded Norman. The captain, erupting with anger, threw his helmet off onto the floor in frustration. The chime sounded, and the game ended in a draw.

The scoreboard flashed the final score, as the announcer congratulated Norman's team on their miraculous victory. The commenter went on and on about how he had never seen anyone use the baton in a similar manner. Some of the opposing jostlers continued to howl that this unconventional usage should be penalized.

In all the chaos and shouting, nobody paid any attention to the ball.

The ball ricocheted off the protective barricading at an angle. It then bounced off the adjacent wall which deflected it towards the arena. Still speeding at an immense speed, it hit Gorka in the head with a sickening thud. The unprotected head shattered like a ripe melon.

The stadium grew absolutely quiet. The audience watched in horror as the captain crumbled to the ground, his body twitching and convulsing in his final moments.

Norman was too dazed for several moments to make sense of what he saw. He saw the splatter of blood; he saw gravity mercilessly pull the captain down; he heard the thud as his body hit the ground face first, and then he looked at him sprawled awkwardly on the ground. It took him several seconds to connect them all and make sense of what had happened. What his companion had done. What he had done. After a few minutes, he saw Arianna get up and walk away.

It was only after two hours of utter chaos that Norman was able to leave the grounds. The team was held back by members of the Protectorate; their statements were taken, and footage was reviewed from numerous angles. Accidents such as these were not common. There was a one in a billion chance of something like this happening, and yet it did happen. Eventually, Norman was cleared of any wrongdoing. To willingly orchestrate something like this would require precision beyond the capabilities of any human. The match was declared a draw.

He walked out of the Yokidon stadium. It was almost dark by then. As he walked out, he looked towards the empty stands. He looked toward where Arianna had sat. The ground had been cleared away, but he vividly remembered the blood splatter.

He first thought of taking a pod back up, but then decided against it. Not too far from the stadium was the route he had trekked through during his first visit to the ground.

The ground level of the planet consisted mostly of agricultural fields, a few large wildlife reserves, and a few mining sites. Though most of the academic activities were conducted in the Illustrious Torus, students did occasionally venture down for on-ground expeditions.

Norman remembered the first time he looked at the academy complex from the ground during a trekking expedition. The torus, forged from a rare, strong alloy, shimmered in the ethereal glow of the gas giant's iridescent atmosphere. It was a mesmerizing sight—a glittering ribbon of metal that stretched endlessly around the planet, vanishing into the infinite void beyond.

His mind wandered off to the creature that nested in his foot. He remembered the sea of black tentacles from the alien world. A darker, sinister imagination unfolded in his mind. He visualized the tendrils of darkness wrapping around the torus, reducing it to ashes and dust...

He had to calm his mind - tear it away from such thoughts. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Then he started running.

He ran for a mile. Then two miles. He blocked off all thought and just let his heart pound in his chest and the wind splash against his face.

He could run faster than he could ever before. Even sweating profusely, he didn't falter.

He eventually reached a curve, around which the ground fell off into a steep descent.

Norman couldn't help but catch his breath at the breathtaking sight before him. In the far north, high mountains loomed majestically. Its rugged peaks, draped in a tapestry of emerald green vegetation, reached for the clear, azure sky.

The descent led to a deep, old ravine, carved through eons by the relentless forces of water and wind. The trench, with its jagged, toothy edges, had the look of a great, gaping maw, its depths hidden in shadow. He couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and wonder as he stood there, taking in the breathtaking panorama before me. This hidden gem, nestled deep within the heart of the land, was truly a sight to behold.

The late-evening sun cast long, golden rays of light across the landscape. The air was crisp and clean, filled with the sweet scent of pine and the melodic song of birds. He could have stayed there for hours, taking in the beauty and tranquility of the moment, but eventually, he knew it was time to move forward with what he had truly come here to do.

What had he come here to do?

A part deep of mind, deep inside, knew. Even though he had suppressed it - forced the thoughts from resurfacing, deep within, he had known for a while what he needed to do.

Before the parasite could react, Norman stepped over the guardrails and jumped into the ravine. The Nightwyrms in the hidden world may be all powerful, the envoy with him was only a fragment of the collective. And it was now the time to test its limits.