Simma was improving at his gliding. Gwen had been doing her best to train him, but he still wasn't moving like she did.
She'd named most of the moves in gliding—like the barrel roll, the off and spin, the jump and kick, and many others.
The one Simma found most difficult was the one she called the Devil Stare. In that move, you'd pretend you were about to pass the ball, but instead, you'd flip over forcefully and strike the ball at the post.
Every time Simma tried it, he would crash to the ground mid-flip.
Now she was training him on how to move the ball with the bat. He was getting better, though not great yet. He trained with his team as well.
They had spent the whole day on the field. Tomorrow was the final game of the tournament.
They had split into four pairs for training. Gwen's team scored fifteen points to five, clearly dominating. During the session, she noticed that Simma wasn't really using any of his inner strength.
"In hockey, you have to show everything you've got—well, everything except your Azrax," she explained.
"Azrax? What's that?" Simma asked.
Then it hit Gwen—if Simma didn't even know what an Azrax was, he wouldn't be able to pass the second phase of the tournament: the arena battle.
"Well, an Azrax is the beast inside all of us—our core power. We all have one, and we have to tame it and control it. Mine is a lion. If I advance in the tournament, I'll unlock more of my potential—and so will my Azrax."
"Do you know yours?" she asked.
"No," Simma answered quietly.
"We'll deal with that later. But whatever happens in the field tomorrow—do not unleash your beast. Not yet."
"I get it," Simma muttered, frustrated at how easily the team Gwen join had crushed his in the game.
The day passed quickly, and Simma's nerves grew with each hour.
That night, he went to bed and had the strangest dream.
He was on the hockey field, playing a match—but suddenly, the sand gliders of everyone but his grew enormous. He looked up to find all the other players had turned into giants. They came after him, trying to crush him beneath their gliders. Simma fled, gliding for his life.
He woke up, relieved it had only been a dream—only to fall asleep and dream again.
This time, he was on Gwen's team. Suddenly, he unleashed his Azrax... but it was a small, slimy frog. It stuck to the floor, motionless—and Gwen ran it over with her glider, laughing hysterically.
Dawn finally came, and Simma was glad the night—and its ridiculous dreams—were over.
He climbed out of bed, freshened up, and hurried off to the locker room.
There, he went over the rules again, reading the posters on the wall before joining his team. Their captain, Jones—a tall, muscular black man—was reviewing their strategy.
The team consisted of seven players: Jones, Emelda, Jack, Matt, Mack, Lynda, and Simma.
They were the fifth and final match of the day, so they had to wait their turn. The sounds of the crowd and the announcer, Vocal, echoed faintly into the locker room.
As they waited, Gwen came in, searching for Simma. When she found him, she pulled him aside.
"Hey, how are you feeling?" she asked, adjusting his shin guards.
"Ehhh... nervous," Simma admitted.
"That's a good feeling," Gwen replied with a smile.
"A good feeling?" Simma repeated, clearly doubting her words.
"Yeah. Trust me—it is."
She pulled something out of her pocket. "Here. For luck." It was a bracelet. She slipped it onto his wrist gently.
Simma stared at her, deep and intense. "Thank you. I'll wear it with pride."
Time passed quickly, and before anyone knew it, it was Simma's team's turn.
"AND NOW FOR THE FINAL MATCH OF THE HOCKEY TOURNAMENT, WE PRESENT TO YOU—THE DOOMS TEAM!" Vocal's voice thundered over the arena as the team lined up in their blue and black-striped uniforms, followed by stream of hails from the crowd.
"Led by Captain Jones—Matt, Mack, Lynda, Emelia, Jack, and Simma!"
Cheers erupted from the stands.
"And their opponents—the SCORPION TEAM! Led by Captain Leon—Zavier, Olivia, Dermot, Alex, Fred, and Angel!"
The Scorpion team entered the field, facing off with their opponents.
Madam Hooch, the tournament's head official, stepped forward and called the two captains to the center. They shook hands briefly.
"You remember the rules I posted in your locker rooms," she said. Then she raised the ball high in the air—and threw it up.
Just as the ball peaked, Leon leapt into the air, spinning with precision. Mid-air, he twisted and slammed the ball with his bat, sending it flying to his teammates.
The game had begun.
"Oh! The Scorpion team has won possession!" Vocal's voice echoed across the arena. "Zavier catches the pass from Leon and glides forward gracefully!"
Zavier glided past Emelia, blasting her aside with a strong gust of wind. He flicked the ball ahead to Olivia.
Olivia caught the ball, but quickly realized she wasn't moving. she was gliding on the spot .
Matt had done that—using his power to trap her and make to glide one place—and rushed in to steal the ball. Leon came sliding in to intercept, but Matt flipped over him mid-air and passed the ball to Simma.
Simma jumped and raised his bat—but when he struck the ball, it veered off in the wrong direction.
A loud "Uuuuh!" rumbled from the crowd.
"I wouldn't be happy if I were Matt," Vocal commented as Simma chased after the ball in frustration.
Fred from the Scorpion team swooped in, picked up the ball, and dashed toward the Dooms' goal post. He dribbled past Mack and faced Jones. As Jones lunged to take the ball back, Fred vanished and reappeared behind him, striking the ball cleanly into the post.
"GOAL!" Vocal shouted. "The Scorpions take the lead—1-0!"
"They wouldn't have scored if you hadn't missed that shot," Jones growled at Simma. "Get your head in the game."
Simma clenched his teeth in anger.
The game resumed with renewed intensity. The Dooms had possession.
Emelia received the ball and, with a flash of lightning, blasted Angel out of her way. She aimed for Dermot, but he summoned a shield from a dark mist. The lightning rebounded off it, hitting Emelia instead. The ball skidded away.
Simma darted toward it. Just as he reached out, he saw a shimmer of blue light heading his way. He leaned back instinctively and dodged it. Alex's tackle followed suit, but Simma twisted his body mid-glide and sliding past with precision.
Simma picked up the ball, controlling it with his bat as though he had played his whole life.
Dermot came at him. His eyes glowed velvet, and a translucent tail appeared behind him. He whipped it at Simma, knocking him off balance.
Simma caught himself and continued toward the goal. The crowd began to murmur—he wasn't playing like the same clumsy rookie anymore.
Leon stepped forward, eyes blazing red. His body swelled, doubling in size. He pounded the ground, sending shockwaves through the field.
But Simma was already airborne, spinning wildly in a barrel roll. A glowing ball of violet flame formed in his fist. With a mighty swing, he hurled it at Leon. It struck the giant, shrinking him instantly back to normal.
Simma landed and smashed the ball into the post.
The crowd exploded.
"Oh my goodness! He scored! He did it on his own!" Vocal roared. "Look at that movement—what a comeback!"
Gwen stood stunned. That wasn't the Simma she'd trained. He was... different.
Jones ran to him, pulling him into a hug. The team gathered around, cheering, surprised—and proud.
In the stands, Zolomon narrowed his eyes. He studied Simma closely.'looks like their is more to simma than I has though,' he pondered.
The game continued.
Zavier launched a clean pass across the field to Angel just as Jones charged at him. Angel sidestepped Jack, gliding past him, but Mack extended his arm—it stretched and grew massive, nearly slamming into Angel. She barely dodged but lost control of the ball.
Matt picked it up and sped forward, passing it to Simma. He raised his hand—and a surge of energy from the ground flung Simma into the air. Spinning mid-air in another barrel roll, Simma's eyes flared velvet.
With perfect timing, he struck the ball with immense force.
Olivia leapt to intercept, her bat held high—but the shot was too powerful. It knocked her bat from her hands and sent the ball crashing into the back of the post together with her bat.
"DOOM TEAM SCORES AGAIN! No stopping Simma now!" Vocal shouted. "What teamwork—what precision!"
Jones was glowing with pride.
Moments later, before anyone could even catch their breath, Matt struck again—this time using a rock projectile to smash the ball into the Scorpion's goal.
Another point.
The Dooms were now crushing the Scorpions.
The final minutes of the match ticked down. The Dooms team was in the lead—three to one.
The Scorpions, refusing to give up, launched a desperate attack. Alex tried to dribble past Jack, but Jack wasn't having it. With sharp focus, he read the move, intercepted the ball, and made a clean pass to Lynda.
Lynda twisted her body in a dazzling spin, slipping past Fred with ease. Leon lunged at her—but she ducked and curved away, sending a swift pass to Simma.
Simma caught the ball mid-glide.
And what a glide it was.
The crowd gasped as he moved—smooth, sharp, confident. He cut through the field like a sandstorm in perfect control.
Zavier dove to stop him, but Simma spun around him so fast that Zavier tumbled to the ground.
Without missing a beat, Simma sent a curving pass toward Jones at the front.
Jones caught it, raised his bat high—and struck.
The ball tore through the air and slammed into the post.
GOAL!
"GOOOOOOOAAAAAAALL!" Vocal's voice echoed over the roaring crowd. "I don't think the Scorpions can come back from that!"
Gwen was on her feet, screaming with the crowd. Her heart pounded in pride and joy.Simma had done it. The boy who once couldn't stand on a glider was now the star of the match.
The whistle blew.
"Game over. The Dooms team had won." Vocal Yelled.
The crowd erupted. Teammates ran to each other in celebration. Gwen pushed through the crowd to get to Simma, a huge grin on her face. She flunged her arms around him in a tight hug.
The hockey game level was now over and Simma and his team have passed to the next stage of the games.
After the celebrations had wound down in the locker room, laughter and cheers still echoing through the halls,
Zolomon walked in, his presence instantly commanding the room.
He asked for a private word with Simma.
Simma, still riding the high of their unexpected victory, hadn't expected this. He knew he'd done well—surprised everyone, including himself—but he hadn't thought it would draw Zolomon's attention so soon.
But Zolomon wasn't just impressed. He had questions.
Something about Simma had caught his eye—something familiar, something unsettling. It stirred echoes of the past… and memories of a name long forgotten
And then name was ZELIHUTH.