Striker Genesis: E.O.S (Evolution of Strikers)

Renji's breath came in sharp, ragged bursts as his feet pounded against the cold metallic floor. The darkness ahead seemed endless, but stopping wasn't an option — not with the sound of footsteps rapidly closing in behind him.

He risked a glance back. Three players. Their eyes burned with desperation and aggression. One of them, a tall boy with a scar across his cheek, smirked.

"You're prey," the scarred boy taunted. "And this is the hunt."

Renji's mind raced. He didn't know the rules of this so-called trial, but one thing was clear — hesitation meant elimination.

A sharp turn opened into a massive chamber bathed in cold blue light. The room was divided into several small fields, each marked by glowing lines. Players clashed on these fields, one-on-one, their movements fast and brutal.

A voice boomed from above. Kaizen's voice.

"Trial One: Territory Clash. The rules are simple — claim and defend your territory. Fail, and you're out. Succeed, and you survive. There are no second chances."

The scarred boy lunged.

Renji twisted aside just in time, the attack missing by inches. He spun, searching for an opening — and found one.

A ball.

It lay in the center of a marked field, glowing faintly.

Renji sprinted. The air pulsed with energy as he crossed into the territory, his fingers brushing the ball just as the scarred boy crashed into him.

They hit the ground hard. Renji rolled, clutching the ball to his chest. The moment his body stopped moving, the territory's lines flared brighter — signaling his claim.

But the fight was far from over.

The scarred boy was on his feet instantly, eyes blazing with fury. "You think you can take this from me?!" he roared, charging.

Renji stood his ground.

The first kick came fast — Renji blocked it with his shin, pain flaring up his leg. The second followed, even faster, but Renji anticipated it. He spun with the impact, using the momentum to strike back.

His foot connected.

The scarred boy stumbled, his balance lost. Renji didn't wait. He pushed forward, his mind clear and focused.

One goal: defend his territory.

The scarred boy attacked again, but this time Renji was ready. He sidestepped, drove his shoulder forward — and sent his opponent sprawling out of bounds.

The territory's lines glowed brighter still.

A chime sounded.

"Renji Arata — Territory Secured."

Renji's chest heaved as the announcement echoed through the chamber. But there was no time to celebrate.

Because the hunt had only just begun.