Dimensional Descent

James grabbed his helmet with both hands, dropping to his knees in despair. At a time like this, Leonel could only sigh.

However, under the silence of the arena, a resounding boom of two clashing bodies sounded.

Leonel grimaced, feeling his already fractured ribs break cleanly as his vision was filled with sights of the moon above.

It was then a loud whistle blew through the silence.

"Unnecessary roughness, roughing the passer, number 21. Half the distance to the goal, still first down."

Leonel landed heavily on the ground, grasping at his chest with his eyes squinting in pain.

The rookie stood over him in shock. At first, he had let his frustration get the best of him. He had never for a moment thought that James would drop such an easy layup of a pass, so he unleashed everything he had on Leonel, knowing they would lose the game. Never did he think that his actions would give the Royal Blues another chance with zero seconds on the clock.

The medics rushed onto the field. Despite the Royal Blues gaining new life, the stadium still remained silent. The sight of Leonel writhing in pain made many send furious gazes toward the rookie and James.

"Bennett, get the hell off the field! Rook, you're in."

Coach Owen coldly benched his Five-Star prospect. He didn't know what was wrong with James today, but he was clearly in his own head too much. It was impossible to use him for this final play.

The medics quickly lifted Leonel's jersey, undoing the bandage wraps from the first half to reveal ghastly purple and green bruises. It was simply impossible for a bruise to spread so quickly. The only explanation was that Leonel had suffered this injury very early on in the game.

"Don't." Leonel grabbed the hand of the middle-aged male medic who tried to take his pads off. "There's just one play left, I got it."

Coach Owen who had rushed onto the field frowned deeply, his arms crossed over his well-built chest and his mustache billowing.

The team stood around Leonel's slowly rising figure, solemn expressions on their faces. They knew that everyone made mistakes, but at the moment, they were having a really hard time forgiving James.

"What are you all pouting for? An injury timeout doesn't last forever, let's do this. Line up!"

Seeing Leonel's resolute attitude, the medics and Coach Owen had no choice but to jog off the field under the silence of the crowd. In those moments, the heavy breathing of the players who stood on their last legs was all that remained hanging in the air.

Leonel's fiery gaze lit a fire under them all, filling them with a strength they didn't know they had.

On the sidelines, Conrad looked on with a gloomy expression. Victory had been in his grasp, yet it slipped away, just like that.

Leonel slapped his hands together, standing behind his offensive line as though he wasn't injured at all.

"Blue 80. BLUE 80. Down set, HUT!"

**

causing a light smile to play his handsome features. Who knew how they did it, but the guys managed

he couldn't take part too actively. Though he could forcibly ignore his pain if need be as he did on the final game winning play, it was probably best he

cap. You're

his shoulder without regard for his grimace. He swung back a flask of vodka, his massive fat covered body somehow appearing

already promised I'd come. No need to kill me

in the

pretty certain that Aina wouldn't come, he still had to put his best foot forward just in case. Luckily, he

have one of the medics re-bandage this for

his side, Leonel turned from his locker to see his

"Coach, you're gonna get

his flask up as though mockingly toasting the very people he insulted. Leonel almost didn't understand his slurring

you, how embarrassing. You get like this every

to you? You're gone after this time anyway, off to the bright lights of the NAFL. This old man

salary is enough to retire now

Owen's mustache would blow and he'd have another witty comeback waiting

for choosing

stunned silent for a moment. He very well could have chosen Angel Wing, allowing him to attend the second ranked Academy. But, he chose Royal Blue because he

thank that dead rat on your lip. If not for how fun it is to poke fun at it, I would

laughed uproariously, slapping Leonel's back even

green vomit your old man gave you,

of pain,

Enjoy it while you

busy trying to calm his pain with ice to hear Coach Owen's

faded, Leonel dug through his locker to

knew, his father worked in a government division that focused on nutrition and enhanced nutritional supplements. The Ascension Empire believed that while their technology advanced rapidly, the human condition lagged behind. So this unnamed division worked toward maximizing human potential with

was one of his father's creations. According to his Gene Assessment, he was slotted in to grow to six feet tall. But, after drinking this poison everyday, he superseded that by three inches and might

a Four-Star General. He only went on to work in this unnamed division after he retired from military service. Then he proceeded to retire

what remained of the bottle, a familiar scorching pain seared Leonel's chest. But, at the very least, his aching ribs dulled down a bit. It would probably take a normal person about two months to heal, but Leonel would only need about

of his watch, he preferred taking a shower as did most people. There was just something about it that

one hanging loosely over his head. Slightly obscured with a pattern of green, purple and brown bruises, his torso rippled beneath the

hair, wincing as he struggled to keep his arms above

pair of deep blue jeans, a skin-tight white

now, dad won't kill me too much

his backpack over his shoulder. But the moment he turned, his footsteps

you moping around