CHAPTER 73: FLAME OF THE FIRST INVITATION

Raj opened the profiles.Then reviewed the first candidate.

▸Name: Veer Saxena

▸Role: Middle-order stabilizer

▸Style: Quiet, situational counter-puncher

▸Trait:Still Flame – excels after early collapse

▸Weakness: Hesitation during high-chase moments

In one trial, Veer had anchored a match from 14/4 to 122.No big strokes.No fame.Just stitchwork.

Raj bookmarked him.Not for stats.But because stillness under ruin was rare.

Second profile opened.

▸Name: Harish Patel

▸Role: All-rounder

▸Style: Chaos constructor — unpredictable, fiercely instinctual

▸Trait:Crackpoint Surfer – performs best under volatile shifts

▸Weakness: Lacks consistent rhythm; unpredictable morale dips

Raj hesitated.Harish was noise.

Uncontrolled energy.But sometimes,chaos paired with clarity creates something no formula can plan for.

Raj tagged him.Not chosen yet.But not ignored either.

Third profile.

▸Name: Zoya Rahman

▸Role: Keeper-batter

▸Style: Sharp reads, fast stumping, emotionally expressive

▸Trait:Thread Mirror – adapts faster when paired with calm leaders

▸Weakness: Can spiral alone without clear guidance

Raj’s eyes paused.Zoya wasn’t stitched for solo greatness.

But in tandem?

She could mirror strengths into amplified moments.He leaned back and smiled faintly.

Zoya reminded him of the field itself.Chaotic at times.

But if respected?

She gave back more than she took.Fourth and fifth profiles remained.But Raj didn’t rush.

Because he was beginning to see the pattern.This wasn’t about picking the best.

It was about picking the broken pieces that still shine.

The ones who—like him—weren’t born dominant.But stitched themselves into fire when ignored.

Outside, the sky had turned pale blue.

But the real light?

Was still building quietly inside his wristband.One more choice.One more step and the National Camp would stop being an idea and start becoming his next battlefield.

The fourth profile pulsed open slowly.

As if the system itself wanted Raj to read carefully.

▸Name: Dev Malhotra

▸Role: Fast Bowler

▸Style: Relentless line-and-length enforcer

▸Trait:Echo Flame – builds rhythm off captain’s emotional temperature

▸Weakness: Breaks under indecisive command or passive leadership

Raj narrowed his gaze.Dev had raw power.

But he was wired to sync.He didn’t lead.

He followed frequency.With the right captain, Dev could silence innings.With the wrong one, he vanished inside the noise.

Raj studied one of his older matches—Dev’s pace rose five clicks after a single captain pat on the back.

Another match?

He lost his line entirely after a tactical pause without eye contact.He was fire.But he needed thread.Raj bookmarked him last.

Maybe or maybe not.

Then came the fifth.No clip.No stat chart.Just a name.

▸Name: [Redacted]

▸Access Level: Restricted Tier

▸System Note: "Candidate requested non-disclosure. Flame-burnt once. Thread snapped. Resurfaced."

Raj tapped twice.Refused.He tapped again.

System opened a blurred image.

A girl, face half-visible, swinging a bat under lights.Footwork sharp.Stance cracked—but eyes unreadable.

▸Alias: ’Rhea V.’

Support me http://wbnv.in/a/26iztYT

▸Trait:Shadow Spark – peaks when unacknowledged, drops under praise

Support me http://wbnv.in/a/26iztYT

▸Known Weakness: Self-sabotage risk if emotional boundary crossed

Raj closed the tab gently.He didn’t need to know more.Because sometimes, you didn’t pick someone because they were safe.You picked them because if you didn’t no one would.

The system pulsed softly.Final selection mode unlocked.

[Choose Your Path]

→ Solo

→ Squad

Warning: Choice cannot be undone.

Raj didn’t blink.Didn’t flinch.

He tapped:

→ Squad.

Because even legends stitched in silence sometimes needed voices beside them.

Fourth profile opened with a surprise.

▸Name: Pranay Deshmukh

▸Role: Fast Bowler

▸Style: Aggressive swing, inner fire masked by silence

▸Trait:Redline Instinct – pace increases when team morale dips

▸Weakness: Short temper under biased umpiring or unfair conditions

Raj tilted his head.He remembered Pranay faintly.A quiet edge.Rarely smiled.Spoke even less.

But the system stats told a different story.

Wickets taken after team collapses.Overs bowled with zero margin when others stepped back.A flame that burned under pressure — not for glory, but for correction.

Raj tagged him instantly.This wasn’t just about skill.It was about spine.Pranay had it and more importantly—used it when no one else did.

Fifth profile opened.

Raj paused longer.

Because this one wasn’t expected.

▸Name: Uday Rathi

▸Role: Open batter

▸Style: Grace-based. Precise footwork, elegant strokeplay

▸Trait:Anchor Bloom – can absorb pressure and release momentum in clusters

▸Weakness: Physically inconsistent under back-to-back games

Raj exhaled softly.He had known Uday in another circle.Not close friends.But their journeys had brushed against each other.

And Uday?

He was always the type who looked like he belonged in someone else’s highlight reel.

Too graceful,too selfless and yet—still standing.

Raj tapped his name slowly.

"Fifth tag locked."

The system pulsed.

⟐ SYSTEM RECORD: TEAM ASSEMBLY PHASE COMPLETE ⟐

▸ Squad Selected:

 – Veer Saxena

 – Harish Patel

 – Zoya Rahman

 – Pranay Deshmukh

 – Uday Rathi

▸ Cohort Model: Stitch Flame Unit

▸ Leadership Thread: Raj (RC-042)

▸ Bonus Synergy Rating: 91.4%

▸ System Remark:

 → "You didn’t choose stars.

  You chose sparks.

  Let’s see how they burn when threaded."

As dawn cracked through the blinds, Raj stood by the dorm window.The field below was quiet.But his path was no longer.

Tomorrow, he would walk into a camp built to crush egos and he was bringing five sparks stitched in silence.It wouldn’t be easy.

But then again...When has silence ever needed ease to become flame?

By noon, the flame cohort formation had silently synced across the national system grid.

There were no public announcements.No viral posts.No congratulatory banners.But the top-tier data handlers across the training camp networks received a flagged update:

"Cohort #FZ-042 stitched.

▸Leader: Raj.

▸Entry Mode: Squad.

▸Formation Rating: Flame Level — Watchlist Activated."

Within hours, the whispers began.

"Who did he pick?"

"Not the big names?"

"No stars? Then what’s the strategy?"

The strategy was not to fit the board.It was to burn through it.

In the next 24 hours, each selected player received their own version of the call.Veer received his at a rundown practice net.

He stared at the message.Didn’t believe it at first.Then ran his hand along his bat’s cracked grip and whispered, "Someone saw me."

Harish was at a night tournament—mid game.Paused mid-delivery when his tracker pulsed.He read the name and laughed.

But not loudly.Like someone who just got permission to unleash.

Zoya’s alert came while she was bench-warming for a team that hadn’t let her keep for four straight matches.She cried.But only for 10 seconds.Then wiped her face and started training again—alone.

Pranay read his update in the corner of a crowded bus.Didn’t react.Just closed the device and said, "About time."

And Uday?

He was at home, repairing a bat for a younger cousin.He smiled.Not out of pride.

Out of recognition.

Because the name that had picked him?

He had once watched him walk away from a net session years ago—after scoring 0 and even then, Uday had known.

"That guy was building something."

Back at Raj’s dorm, the system pulsed one final message for the Chapter:

⟐ SYSTEM UPDATE: NATIONAL TRAINING CAMP ACCESS GRANTED ⟐

▸ Entry Mode: Squad Format

▸ Squad Name: The Stitched Flame

▸ Internal Rating: 9.8 (Unstable Potential Tier)

▸ Draft Observation Level: Level Red

▸ Rival Marker Assigned: Incoming

You have chosen your spark.Now prepare for the storm that tries to scatter it.

Raj didn’t smile.Didn’t flex.He just slid on his gloves.Because he wasn’t entering the camp to survive.

He was entering to stitch silence into every single scoreboard until no one could ignore the flame anymore.

The gates of the National Training Camp weren’t majestic.They were heavy.Wrought iron welded into silence.Above them, no slogans.

Just a single word etched across the top bar in steel-grey flame font:

"Rise."

Raj stepped through first.Behind him, his squad—Veer, Harish, Zoya, Pranay, and Uday—each holding their own duffel bags, looking up at the campus like survivors, not stars.

Inside, other squads had already arrived.

Some came in sponsored kits.Some brought personal trainers.Some arrived in cars with tinted windows.

The Stitched Flame?

They arrived with one thing: threads.

System pinged just as Raj crossed the internal boundary.

⟐ SYSTEM NOTICE: LEVEL RED DRAFT ZONE UNLOCKED ⟐

▸ Camp Tier: High-Tension Selection Stage

▸ Entry Class: Flame Cohort

▸ Rival Tag: Specter Eleven

▸ Housing Rights: Pending

▸ First Evaluation: Silent Scrim

▸ Stakes:

 → 12 Beds

 → 8 Meal Credits

 → 4 Camp Contracts

▸ Rules: No noise, no umpire calls, no second chances

Raj froze.Twelve beds.There were 18 players registered.That meant six would be erased in the first 24 hours.No review. No appeal. Just out.

The others read the update too.

Veer’s shoulders stiffened.

Zoya looked at Raj, not with fear—but readiness.

Uday just whispered, "So it starts here."

Harish cracked his neck.

Pranay tightened his shoelaces.

And Raj?

He simply adjusted his wristband and led them forward.

Near the field, a coach with a blank badge stood beside a giant screen.Didn’t smile.

Didn’t welcome.Just spoke.

"Your system knows the rules."

Then pointed toward a crate.

Inside: plain kits with only one logo stitched over the chest—Flame Unsorted.

Not team names.Not identities.Just trial fire.

Raj took the kit.Pulled the shirt over his head and felt it press against his skin like heat and thread had merged.

This wasn’t a test of who was best.This was a test of who refused to be erased.

TO BE CONTINUED...