CHAPTER 50: THE FIRST NATIONAL FLAME

The engine of the national transport bus hummed with mechanical precision, but inside, the silence was heavier than the road beneath it.

Pavan Raj sat near the rear, eyes closed—not asleep, not even resting, just breathing in that stitched rhythm that had become part of him since Ghostline. His bag was next to him, glove case latched shut, sketchpad hidden in the side compartment.

He didn’t look out the window. He wasn’t here for the scenery. The national training camp wasn’t a place to admire. It was a place to carve your name so deep into the system that no one could replace you.

Unlike district or zonal trials, this wasn’t a tournament. It was exposure warfare. A battlefield of silence, pressure, and unspoken rivalries where every candidate brought not just their skill, but the full weight of the sponsors behind them.

Every match mattered. Every drop of sweat either earned you a contract—or pushed you further from the memory of selectors.

System Notification

→ Area Reached: National Training Camp – Central Facility

→ Visibility Tier: High – Group Alpha (Top 2%)

→ System Sync Status: 100% (Flame Line Stable)

→ Rival Tracking: Gravex Registered Prodigy in Same Group

→ Status: All Systems Operational

The bus hissed to a stop at the east gate. A long steel tunnel led to a biometric checkpoint guarded by silent staff in white Ghostline uniforms. No reporters. No welcome signs.

Only scanning lights and performance charts scrolling across digital walls. As Raj stepped out, no one clapped. No camera flashed. But those nearby noticed. One or two players in regional kits nudged their teammates, whispering.

"That’s him. Silent Flame."

"Ghostline prodigy?"

"Didn’t take Gravex. They’re pissed."

Raj ignored it all. His footsteps fell light on the synthetic path as he walked toward Registration Hall 01. The pressure wasn’t new. It didn’t need managing. It belonged to him now, stitched like a layer beneath his skin.

He passed a line of top candidates—all wearing polished sponsor gear, carrying duffels with engraved logos. Some turned to look. Others raised an eyebrow. One kid from East Zone, branded head-to-toe in Gravex Blue, scoffed and turned away.

System Alert

→ Flame Impression Active

→ Opponent Focus Drop: –4% within 5m Radius

→ Team Support Field: Dormant (Team not assigned yet)

Raj stepped through the biometric scanner and let the system map his vitals. A red light blinked. Then green. He was cleared.

"Candidate Pavan Raj," the admin assistant said. "Group Alpha. Your pod is Dome 4.

Evaluation match begins in three hours. You’re slotted against Group Theta for trial exposure. Sync your gear in the calibration bay and report to the pre-warm zone."

He took the packet without a word.

The dome campus stretched wide beyond the registration chamber—four massive domes, north to south, each assigned to different skill categories. Dome 4 was where system-active, emotionally-linked players were placed. It wasn’t just about performance. It was about impact.

Measurable emotional consistency under match tension. Raj’s placement wasn’t luck. It was a result of the system reading his calm under fire.

As he walked toward the Dome 4 entry bay, the system flicked again.

→ Passive Recognition Level: 92%

→ Fan Retention Estimate: Rising

→ Media Engagement Probability: Medium

→ Sponsor Threat Detected: Gravex Scouting Surge in Zone Alpha

Inside the dome, he stepped into the gear calibration room. It was clean. Bright. Filled with other players adjusting their gear under the watch of system bots and assistant coaches.

Everyone had their eyes on their equipment. Except one. Standing near a corner panel, arms folded, face sharp—Riyan Deshmukh.

Raj had heard the name before. Captain of the West Zone All-Rounder squad. A Gravex golden pick. Known for sledging under pressure and destabilizing opponents mentally. He was watching Raj with the look of someone not yet impressed—but already defensive.

They didn’t speak. They didn’t nod. They didn’t need to. Rivalry didn’t need language.

Raj stepped onto Calibration Pad 9 and placed his glove on the scanner. The display above lit up in sharp green.

Gear Sync: RajCraft Silent Flame Glove v1.0

→ Emotional Buffer: Stable

→ Mental Lag Compensation: Active

→ Passive Trait Detected: Anchor Field

→ Status: Approved for Competitive Use

The glove pulsed slightly as he slipped it back on, its thread memory locking into place as if welcoming him to a new battlefield. It wasn’t just a tool anymore. It was his statement.

He turned, left the pad, and entered the waiting corridor. The walls pulsed softly with blue and white hues, shifting with internal atmospheric control.

A screen above flashed his match timing:

Group Alpha vs Group Theta – Net 2Match Time: 14:00

Format: Situational Simulation

Overs: 10 (Batting + Bowling Phase)

Objectives: Score Stability, Strategic Adaptation, Team Sync Impact

He sat quietly on the bench, pulling his glove tighter, checking nothing. He didn’t need pre-game hype. He wasn’t here to make noise. He was here to remind them what silence could do when stitched with fire.

System Notification

→ Simulation Format: Activated

→ Scenarios Preloaded: Mid-Innings Collapse, Powerplay Overdrive, Low Target Defense

→ Bonus Trait: Calm Presence Level 2 – Trigger Ready

→ Exposure Tier: Live Feedback Active (Visible to Scouts & Sponsors)

Across from him, a few other candidates glanced over. Some smirked, thinking he was too still. Too controlled. But Raj didn’t return the look. His system pulsed in rhythm with his breath.

This wasn’t a match.

It was a message.

The preparation zone began to fill with the low murmur of players adjusting pads, tightening laces, reviewing match assignments. But Raj remained seated, eyes open, watching nothing and everything all at once.

His breathing was slow. His hands rested on his knees. One hand wore the glove—fully synced, softly glowing across the wrist seam like a silent ember that didn’t flicker, only pulsed.

His system pinged again.

→ Flame Glove Sync Active→ Match Broadcast Range: Extended (National Observer Tier 2)→ Audience Trust Stability: Boosted by 8%→ Rival Deshmukh Watching: Confirmed

He stood when his name was called. The assistant led him into Net 2, where synthetic pitch grass met full stadium lighting and high-speed camera arcs circled every angle of the field.

The Group Theta team was already on the ground, most of them limbering up near the bowler’s crease. Some looked up as Raj entered. A few recognized him immediately.

That was the difference silence made.

They had nothing to compare it to. But they felt it.

His teammates—temporary ones selected randomly for the simulation—stood by the entrance. None introduced themselves, but a wicketkeeper with dark hair and a southern zone badge gave him a respectful nod. Raj returned it, brief but firm.

"Raj, you’re down for middle-order entry. Focus is on collapse control. If we lose 2 wickets in the first 3 overs, you walk in," the simulation coach announced through the comm system.

"Understood," Raj replied.

The system triggered the match protocol.

→ Simulation: Active Scenario 1 – Collapse Recovery

→ Situation: 3.2 Overs, Score: 24/2

→ Entry Triggered: Pavan Raj (Batsman #4)

→ Objectives: Stability Recovery, Dot-Pressure Neutralization, Emotional Sync Active

He adjusted his grip, walked to the crease, and looked around once not at the bowler, but at the entire simulation. Not because he doubted it, but because he wanted to remember how it felt. He wanted to stitch this moment into the thread memory of his glove.

The bowler ran in tall, lean, quick release. Raj waited. No exaggerated stance. Just calm posture. The delivery was sharp, angling toward his pads. He nudged it with a flick—not aggressive, not defensive. Just placed. One bounce into the gap. Easy single.

→ Emotional Stability: Maintained

→ Dot-Pressure: Neutralized

→ Team Response Boost: Triggered

Second ball—shorter, heavier. He dropped to a soft cut, guiding it backward of point. Two runs. No stress. No noise. The other batsman didn’t say anything, but his shoulders relaxed.

By the time Raj had played six balls, he hadn’t hit a single boundary. But the system board showed what mattered more.

→ Match Momentum: Balanced

→ Collapse Probability: Dropping

→ Coach Feedback: Impressive Field Reading

→ Scout Visibility: Greenlighted

Gravex’s scout pinged on the overlay screen. Raj noticed it in the corner. Riyan Deshmukh had taken position at the boundary screen, arms still crossed, head slightly tilted. Watching. Judging. Waiting for weakness.

Raj offered him nothing.

On the eighth ball, the bowler changed. A left-armer with drift aimed for a wide off-cutter. Raj shifted forward, moved with him, and tapped a firm single to long-off. The coach buzzed the comm again.

"Solid mechanics. Let’s trigger simulation phase two. Target run-choke recovery."

The screen reset.

→ New Scenario: Target Defense – 10 Overs, 69 to Defend

→ Phase: Bowling

→ Assigned Role: Field Commander – Mid-On + Rotation Control

→ Bonus Activated: Team Confidence Pulse

→ Flame Presence Applied: Opponent Run Surge Reduction –4%

As fielding positions were taken, his team hesitated looking to each other for calls. Raj stepped forward, gestured quickly, repositioned two slips, adjusted the fine-leg boundary, and signaled the deep cover to tighten by three meters. He didn’t raise his voice. But they followed.

The over began.

First ball—driven firmly. Boundary saved. One run.

Second—batsman charged and missed. Dot.

Third—slower delivery. Skied.

Raj didn’t move wildly. He tracked it early, stepped in from mid-on, and caught it two feet above the turf.

→ Catch Complete

→ System Sync: Anchor Field Pulse Triggered

→ Confidence Boost Radius: Refreshed

→ Observer Log: Highlight Saved

From the edge of the dome, applause rose,not from fans, but from the selection panel room. Raj didn’t react. He tossed the ball back to the bowler, returned to position, and waited.

Over the next four overs, his field positioning saved nine runs. The team chemistry, despite being random, began to shift. Players responded to his movements. Followed his angles. The system detected emotional sync even without pre-built team bonding.

By the ninth over, the opposing side needed 15 from 12.

Raj stood at long-on, reading body angles.

The next shot was a loft. Misjudged.

He ran across, measured the arc, and leaptnot with a dive, but with a forward step and full extension. The ball landed in his glove, finger-stitched seam catching it like a memory finally closed.

→ Wicket Secured

→ End-of-Match Trigger

→ Simulation Completed Successfully

→ Exposure Rating: 9.4

→ Anchor Score: 10/10

→ National Scout Interest: Positive

→ Gravex Rival Monitor: Passive Reaction Logged

The players regrouped by the benches. Some congratulated each other with nods and quiet comments. Raj removed his glove slowly, unstrapped it, and folded the wrist joint neatly before placing it back in the case. The scout from Gravex continued watching—but didn’t speak.

Riyan Deshmukh didn’t clap.

But he left the room first.

Outside the dome, the wind had changed. The sun had shifted behind the stadium’s west tower. And Pavan Raj walked through the corridor not as a hopeful candidate—but as a stitched presence.

System Update

→ National Status: Elevated

→ Title Progression: Silent Flame (Stage 2)

→ Bonus Skill Path Opened: Team Catalyst

→ Next Mission Available: National Selection Trials – Round TwO

→ Rival Link Unlocked: Deshmukh (Flagged for Psychological Duel Arc)

→ Personal Gear Path: Eligible for Brand Expansion Proposal

His system dimmed gently.

The camp didn’t cheer.

The stage didn’t roar.

But the silence carried him again—louder than any shout.

TO BE CONTINUED.....