Chapter 29: The Kinetic chain
The light from the projector hummed, casting a sterile blue tint over the weary faces of Team Z. Kuon was mid-rant, his laser pointer dancing frantically over the paused footage of the Wanima twins.
"It's not just speed," Kuon said, his voice reaching a stressed, high-pitched frequency. "It's the synchronization. If we press the one with the ball, the other is already ten yards behind our line. It's like they have four eyes between them. We have no data on how to outpace them."
"They aren't magic," a soft, feminine voice drifted from the shadows in the corner.
Chigiri Hyoma was leaning back, his eyes fixed on a frozen frame of the footage. "Look at the younger twin's left ankle. Every time he's about to pass, he shifts his weight to the outside of his boot. He's signaling the direction before he even touches the leather. It's a habit. If you watch the foundation, the 'telepathy' disappears."
The room went silent. Most of Team Z blinked at the screen, unable to see the tiny, skeletal detail Chigiri had just exposed.
"He's right."
Eshan stood up from the back, his movement soundless. He walked toward the screen, standing next to Chigiri. His silver-gray eyes scanned the frame with a clinical coldness. "Most people look at the ball because they're amateurs. Chigiri is looking at the mechanics. The Wanima twins aren't a mystery; they're just a repetitive loop."
Eshan turned his gaze toward Chigiri. It wasn't a look of pity, but of sharp, piercing recognition. "You have a real eye for the game, Chigiri. You clearly have talent."
Eshan paused, the silence in the room becoming heavy. "But I have a question. Everyone in this room screams about what they're good at. Kunigami has his power, Bachira has his touch. But you... you're the only one trying to hide what you are. Why?"
Chigiri stiffened, his hand reflexively clenching into a fist near his right knee. He didn't answer.
Eshan didn't push. He simply turned and walked out, the heavy door clicking shut behind him like a gavel.
The Training Ground: The Physics of the Whip
Hours later, the training hall was bathed in the dim "night" cycle. Eshan was alone, but he wasn't doing traditional drills. He was practicing Proprioception—the brain's ability to know exactly where every limb is without looking.
He stood on an unstable foam pad, balancing on his left leg while juggling two balls with his right foot and his shoulders. To the readers, this was the "Seven-Year Engine" in action. He was perfecting his Kinetic Chain.
Most players moved like a series of stiff segments. Eshan moved like a whip. When he moved his hip, the energy traveled fluidly through his knee and snapped into his ankle with zero wasted motion. This fluidity allowed his Absolute Ball Feel to work even at high speeds; because his body had no "stiffness," the ball simply adhered to him.
"How do you do it?"
Chigiri was standing by the equipment rack, his long hair tied back. He looked conflicted, his eyes tracking the way the balls seemed to be caught in a gravitational pull around Eshan's body. "You move like you don't have a single doubt. Like you trust your body never to fail you."
Eshan let the balls drop, catching one on his laces with a "dead-trap" that made no sound. "I don't 'trust' it, Chigiri. I've mastered it. I've spent seven years learning the architecture of my bones so that I don't have to rely on luck."
Eshan walked toward him, the ball rolling effortlessly down his arm until he caught it in his hand. "You're the one who spotted the twins' weakness. You have the vision. But you're playing like a man who's already retired. You're guarding that leg like it's a glass fuse."
Chigiri's expression darkened. "You don't know the sound a career makes when it snaps. I'm protecting what's left."
"No," Eshan said, his voice dropping to a low, 27-year-old rasp. "You're guarding a ghost. The Wanima twins are fast, but I've seen your frame, Chigiri. I've seen the way you move when you think no one is looking. You're faster than anyone in this building. But you're choosing to rust instead of run."
Eshan dropped the ball at Chigiri's feet. "The twins are going to target us tomorrow. They'll use their 'link' to tear us apart. You can sit on the wing and watch your talent turn into a memory, or you can decide that your speed is worth the risk. But if you're on my pitch and you don't run... I'll remove you myself. I don't play with weights."
The Shadow of the Traitor
As Eshan walked back toward the dorms, his Absolute Awareness registered a flicker of movement near the video analysis room. He paused in the shadows, his breathing shallow and silent.
He saw Kuon slipping out of the room, his face pale, his hands shaking as he tucked a tablet into his waistband.
Eshan didn't confront him. He didn't need to.
He's sold us out, Eshan thought, a cold, dry smile touching his lips. He thinks he's secured his survival by giving the twins my 'stats' and our formation. He thinks he's playing a game of numbers.
The "Absolute" was already evolving. And tomorrow, the Wanima twins—and the traitor—would find out that you can't calculate a storm.