Dimensional Descent
Chapter 3
[Don't worry for those who don't understand most of what happens in this chapter. I know American Football isn't exactly an international sport. Rest easy, this is the only chapter the sport will have relevance in :) ]
"Good evening gentleman, I hope we can have a good game today. Everyone knows the stakes, so play free and play safe. Stay within the rules as we don't have to have a problem."
The crowd was deafening. The thumping of feet, the boisterous chants, the heated anticipation boiled in the air, shaking the very stadium they stood within.
The Royal Blue Academy's Royal Stadium sat within a massive glass structure formed of curved triangular panels. It danced with the setting sun beautifully, capturing dark reds and oranges that played across its reflective surfaces.
The green, white-striped football fields were completely empty with the exception of 11 men who stood on the 50-yard line facing one another. Clicking and flashing cameras sounded, trying to capture every moment.
Leonel stood proudly, two of his teammates to either of his sides. He calmly smiled at the arrogant sneers of his long time opponents from Angel Wing Academy, his helmet tucked under his arm.
His football pads and jersey fit on like a knight's armor, glistening a beautiful deep blue. The only exception was the number on his chest which stood out as a bright white. The number 3.
"Here is the coin we will be flipping today." The Head Referee continued to speak, stretching out a beautifully designed coin that was about half the width of his palm. "On one side we have a football decorated with the flag of the fallen American Empire. This will be tails.
"On this side we have the Paradise Palace. It will be heads.
"This coin was designed by a Four-Star Metal Worker. It was given the name 'Uniting'. It represents our Ascension Empire's ability to ingratiate all of its past conquests, leaving a place for all."
The Head Referee allowed the ten players to see both sides.
"Are you prepared to lose?"
A gaze filled with confidence bore down on Leonel. The culprit was a young man with long flowing blond hair. His white jersey was almost blinding under the lights, making one have to squint just to maintain eye contact.
This young man was a Four-Star Quarterback prospect, Conrad Siegfried.
"The result will be just the same as it's always been." Leonel replied faintly.
"You know the drill. Royal Blue, you're the home team. Call it in the air."
The Head Referee tossed the coin into the air.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl. The piercing gazes of two young men met across space, a spinning coin falling slowly between them.
"Tails."
The coin landed with a soft thud on the grass below.
"The result is Tails. Royal Blue, would you like to receive or kick?"
Leonel grinned as though the answer was obvious.
"We receive."
"Angel Wing, pick the direction you'd like to kickoff from."
Conrad casually pointed. He hadn't let Leonel's comments bother him. If it wasn't for Leonel's birth, it would be him who would be the best of this generation. Others would let this fact crush them, but it filled Conrad with a burning desire to win by any means.
Leonel turned, heading back to the sidelines. He grabbed his helmet's face mask, sliding it onto his head like a knight's helm.
In that moment, his aura completely changed. A violent pressure suffocated the Royal Blue sidelines as almost a hundred pairs of gazes landed on Leonel's dark, tinted visor.
Soon, the entire stadium fell into an eerie quiet as Leonel met each one of their gazes head on.
"Respect the game. Persist to the end." Was all Leonel said.
"Respect the game. Persist to the end."
crowd joined in, a torrent
the air, a wild cheering shaking
"Let's go."
The fourth year and the fourth National Championship appearance for Five-Star Quarterback Leonel Morales and his Royal Blues. Will it be another victory? Or with the star quarterback end his tenure with the only blemish on his
that, Phil. In case you've all forgotten, let me remind you. This is THE greatest quarterback prospect to ever be birthed. This young man was throwing darts in his diapers. He could sleepwalk through this game
you're doing, Rick. You're just hoping your Los Angeles Sewer Rats trade up to pick
entertaining commentary of the Phil-Rick duo was in full swing, the liveliness was
kickoff of the 119th National Championship
a light jog up before unleashing a booming kick that soared through the air, landing out
that, the game
we go,
Coach Owen is really letting Morales have full reign now. Immediately
Morales is all the
Angel Wing defensive line. Their middle linebackers gaze locked onto Leonel's. He was a
James'
80. BLUE 80. Set.
leg slowly raising and setting into position as he accepted the
hardly planted before he cocked his arm back
[A corner blitz!]
didn't check the play, he actually threw it directly over the corner's
ball?! That could have been
[Hey…!]
loud blowing of a
Number 21. 15-yard penalty, first
had been completely blindsided by the blitzing corner. Of course, he had known it was coming, but he couldn't
night, pretty boy." Number 21 grinned down at Leonel just as
21. 15-yard
mock defeat, swaggering back to his
"You good, cap?"
offensive
problem." Leonel said with
The team huddled in.
no
shoulder pads.
goes — Trips right, red under seam, wide out bang. On two, on
huddle broke, leaving Leonel to jog
shotgun, waiting for his team to get set. Usually, he would scan the defense. But this time, his head turned to the right, his gaze piercing toward just one side of the
freshman. Considering his
done it
BLUE 21. Down
The whistle blew.
Number 21. Five-yard penalty,
Leonel would just try to force the ball toward his side of the field? He's too
rusher. What is Angel Wing
on, Morales is in
a masterclass in timing, accuracy and precision. In just 12 plays and
his star tight end having two dropped passes, Morales finds pay dirt, stacking one touchdown
had far more Four-Star
the depths of despair time and
a bullet
a lot of hits this game. You have to
his charm. Would he really be Leonel Morales if he pulled himself out of this
fourth quarter came around, a score of 35-31 in favor of the
billowing through his thick mustache. "You
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