Rollerball.
They called it a sport.
But standing on the edge of the track, Kael saw something else.
This was not a game.
Not even a test.
This was a feeding ground.
Where the strong hunted.
And the weak were chewed up and spat out.
It was brutal, beautiful chaos where speed met violence and strategy met instinct. A place where teens became warriors, if only for a moment.
Metal clanged.
Skates slashed.
Kael stood at the edge of the track, watching the madness unfold. A full mile of screaming players, thunderous footsteps, and wild cheers. It felt more like war than actual sport.
Orenji clamped a hand on his shoulder, snapping him back to earth.
"Try not to die," he said with an encouraging smile that did nothing to ease the knot in Kael's stomach.
Kael didn't actually answer right away. He barely registered the clang of skates or the pounding rhythm of the players hurtling past. His eyes flicked instead to the guards along the sidelines. The crowd. The open horizon.
The thought echoed in his mind.
Had someone recognized him?
Was he really free?
Or just in a bigger, louder cage?
Tweet!
A whistle blew. The game was on.
"You're in, newbie!" someone shouted from the bench. "Move!"
Thrown into the match as a second-half sub, Kael was shoved forward before he could even think. His skates weren't properly tightened. His gloves were barely on. And yet, he stumbled onto the track as though he belonged.
The moment his skates hit the track, he knew:
This was a terrible idea.
He wobbled in like a drunken baby giraffe with limbs flailing and dignity left somewhere near the bench. His knees buckled with every stride, his heart pounding like it wanted to resign.
'Ah damn, how the hell did I get roped into this...?'
This wasn't a game. To Kael, it was a live reenactment of From the Frying Pan and Into the Spiked Pit of Doom type scenario.
"Kael!" Orenji yelled from the sidelines. "You do know how to stop, right?!"
Kael, spinning slightly, blinked. "Define 'stop.'"
Orenji's face paled. "Oh, that's just fantastic," He rubbed his temples like he was trying to massage out the bad decisions.
Kael awkwardly skated into position, nearly crashing as he did, then gave Orenji a look. "And when did you start sounding like some washed-up spy from one of those spy movies?"
"Because and get this, I'm trying my literal best here not to scream my literal lungs out," Orenji snapped. "Jesus, man! You said you could play!"
"What?! No, I said I liked the game. That's very different. Liking something and being competent at it are two very separate life experiences!"
Kael barely dodged another skater. He might've also accidentally shoulder-checked someone. Judging by the collective gasp, it wasn't a light hit.
Everything was a blur. His life, his decisions, and apparently now… his vision.
Orenji slapped a palm to his face. "Ai! Okay. Plan B. Just survive. For however long you physically can. That's it. Think of it as an endurance test. You don't have to win. Just… don't die out there."
"I'll try."
"But Kael," Orenji added, barely holding back a grin, "if the ball does somehow land in your hands…"
Kael blinked. "Yeah?"
"You're completely on your own."
A beat of silence passed as Kael tried to process that. Then the whistle blew. A blur of bodies. And a juggernaut twice Kael's size blasted past him.
"NO PRESSURE!" Orenji shouted cheerfully from somewhere behind the chaos.
Kael screamed.
As dramatically as a banshee that had just stubbed its toe mid-opera.
***
The game exploded around him. Two captains leapt for the ball but Kael's side lost it immediately. The opposing leader, a blonde blur of muscle and malice snatched it mid-air and launched forward.
Kael recognized him from the red-colored hoodie he wore. He'd seen him earlier trying to impress a girl with bright orange hair and an even brighter smile.
Now, that same blonde cut down the track like a war god on wheels.
"Left! Right! Cover the post!" Chaos erupted around the field.
Kael stood frozen.
In the middle of it all.
A mistake.
A silent, almost comical statue in skates, trying his best to catch himself as chaos whirled around him.
Finally. . .
He turned to leave.
A pass flew his way before he could move and smacked him square in the face.
He stumbled, dazed, and heard the scoreboard beep: 1–3.
They were already losing.
'Really?' He squinted at the score.
'That soon?'
'Now, this is just ridiculous…'
This wasn't a sport. This was punishment. This was humiliation in fast-forward.
'Knew this whole idea was dumb from the onset.'
He turned, thinking he could quietly skate away, maybe fake a sprained ankle, but then he saw the opposing captain.
The blonde, fast, and frighteningly focused was coming again, charging straight at him.
Just fantastic, Kael thought. Now it's my job to stop this guy?
He wasn't even a decent player. Coordination? A rumor. Timing? Nonexistent. Strategy? Please. He could throw a ball, sure, but skating? He moved like a baby deer on rollerblades.
Kael exhaled, sounding more annoyed than excited. His voice was flat, bored.
"C'mon," he muttered, slipping into his stance. "Let's get this over with…"
The blonde tore down the field, the ball dancing effortlessly at his side.
The intensity in the boy's eyes was unmistakable. Like a predator on the hunt.
"Move," the blonde said, coldly, "or I'll kill you."
Kael blinked. "Excuse me? That's not very sportsmanlike."
He saw the rival coming fast, bouncing the ball as though it were an extension of himself. 'He sure is strong though,' Kael realized silently. 'Strong, skilled, utterly and completely in control. I envy that.'
'Okay... okay... I can stop him.' He braced himself, planting his feet. 'Left or right? Come on... I can do this. This should be easy. Right?'
But it wasn't.
The blonde twisted, slipping past Kael with a perfect spin. Kael's fingers only scraped empty air. He didn't even touch him.
He hit the ground again.
The net rippled.
The scoreboard flashed again.
Laughter broke out from the crowd. Some were amused. Others looked away, clearly embarrassed for him. That was somehow worse.
Kael didn't move. He just lay there, his back pressed to the floor, the sting of the fall sinking into his bones.
'One guy,' Kael thought bitterly as he lay there. 'I couldn't even stop one guy.'
It wasn't just a statement.
It was an accusation.
A gut-punch that echoed louder than the crowd, louder than the chaos.
And for the first time… he didn't have an excuse.
It stung more than it should have. But it wasn't just about the game.
It was about everything.
Everywhere Kael looked, people moved like they belonged. Like they had purpose. Fire. Drive.
And he was just… here.
Flailing.
Watching his life pass by in the eyes of a crowd who would never remember his name.
Then came the voice.
Low and cold.
The words that broke through the thoughts in his head, silencing them.
"You're embarrassing us."
Kael turned.
Sean stepped beside him. His tone was quiet. But it hit harder than any fall.
"And the worst part? You don't even look surprised."
Kael blinked. "What?"
Sean didn't look at him. "You're not angry. You're not fired up. You're just… there, merely existing. As if that's all one needs to survive." He scoffed, finally looking at Kael. His eyes were cold steel. "There is no difference between you and furniture."
Kael flinched.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
"The kind who never pushes. Never fights. Just takes up space. Waiting to be rescued."
Sean didn't say it with anger.
He said it like a fact.
Like he'd already tried to care.
And now he was just… done.
The words didn't cut like a blade.
They settled in like poison.
And that was worse.
Much worse.
Kael didn't flinch.
His throat tightened. His chest burned.
He wanted to argue. To grab Sean roughly by the collar, shake him, scream in his face.
He wanted to push back, to force the words out, to shout, "The hell you think you are?! You don't know me! You think you do, but you sure as hell don't!"
But the words didn't come.
His fists just hung there, tight and useless at his sides.
Every muscle screamed for action, but he stood frozen, his jaw clenched, heat burning behind those yellow eyes of his.
'Why....'
Kael displayed a shocked, disbelieving face.
'Why couldn't he do all that he'd thought about?'
Sean took a step closer, his voice now ice-cold.
"I hate people like you."
Kael felt the words land.
'You think I'm weak,' Kael thought bitterly.
'You think I've always been this invisible... thing.'
'Easy to overlook. Easy to forget.'
'And maybe you're right…'
And that hurt more than any shove ever could.
His breath hitched. The weight in his chest swelled, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe properly.
Not around the shame.
Not around the truth.
Because Sean hadn't said it in anger. That's what cut the deepest.
It wasn't mockery.
It was pity.
Kael gritted his teeth.
"The kind who never pushes. Never fights. Just takes up space."
Those words echoed louder than they should have.
Kael had never fought. Not really. Not for himself. Not for anything. He survived, but he never became. He lived, but didn't truly live. Never dared to rise above the low expectations life had set for him.
And now here he was.
Crashing, flailing, failing. . . in front of everyone.
Furniture.
That's what Sean had called him earlier. A chair. A lamp. Something that filled the room but did nothing to change it.
And Kael. . . Kael still hadn't moved.
Hadn't argued.
Hadn't fought.
He just… stayed there.
He stared at Sean's face, trying to find something, anything. Hatred, smugness, possibly regret. But there was only calm.
Unshaken calm.
'I should hit him,' Kael thought, a hollow surge of violence brushing past his ribs. 'One punch. Just one punch. Prove I'm not what he says I am.'
'Prove I'm not useless. . .'
But that wasn't who he was, right?
Or was that the problem?
His voice cracked low in his throat, not loud enough for Sean to hear:
"…You don't know what I've been through."
Sean blinked. Not in surprise. Not even in sympathy.
Just… silence.
Kael clenched his fists, something rising in his chest.
Shame? Yes.
Anger? That too.
He wasn't going to win.
Maybe he wouldn't even survive.
But he wasn't going to fade.
Sean skated off, leaving Kael behind with the words echoing louder than any cheer.
"Then get out of my way if you're going to keep being nothing."
Kael sucked in a breath.
The words 'being nothing' echoed louder than the crowd.
Maybe it was the sting of truth. Maybe it was years of silence finally shattering. But something inside Kael… shifted.
And for the first time in a long time…
He took that personally.