Travel to destiney

Chapter – 9 : Witness First Tri fusion Skill  of tournament.

The tournament’s third day had arrived, but the electrifying tension in the air made it feel like the grand finale. The spectators, wide-eyed and whispering with anticipation, had just witnessed two jaw-dropping battles already. Now, murmurs rippled through the crowd as they waited for the third match of the day — a clash between Team Luder and Team Virat. The energy was contagious.

Both teams stepped onto the stage, their footsteps echoing in rhythm with the hearts of the spectators.

Team Luder :

·       Luder – Illusion.

·       Mahima – Molécule.

·       Netra - Dream.

Team Virat :

·   Virat – Energy Weapons

·   Rondo – Stretching and flexibility

·       Tony – Metal

The two teams exchanged respectful nods. The referee, sensing the tension, raised his hand. “Begin!” he roared, and just like that, the match ignited like a spark catching dry grass.

Luder was the first to act. With a wave of her hand and a whisper of concentration, she veiled the entire arena in a violent, swirling storm—lightning cracked across dark clouds, rain hissed on the stone, and visibility dropped to near zero. It wasn’t real. It was illusion. But it felt real. Wet, heavy, disorienting.

Knowing they were at a disadvantage at range, Virat’s team didn’t hesitate. They charged through the illusory storm, formation tight. Tony took point, morphing his arms into wide, metallic shields. They plowed forward.

As they closed in, Virat's hands glowed a brilliant blue—his energy weapons taking shape midair—while Tony’s arms morphed again, now forming metallic guns, locked and loaded.

But just as they launched their first barrage, Mahima stepped forward, her expression calm and unwavering. She raised her hand.

Every weapon—every single one—transformed into  Sand the moment they came near her.

Gasps echoed. Confusion took over Virat's face. “What the—?!”

“She’s manipulating the Molecule structure,” Rondo muttered, eyes narrowed.

Meanwhile, Luder slipped into the background, supporting her teammates with illusions that twisted reality, making it almost impossible for the attackers to focus.

Rondo tried to flank, hoping to surprise Netra while the others were distracted. But Netra was ready. She simply formed a glowing sphere in front of her. Rondo was pulled in, like a puppet drawn by invisible strings. His body slumped.

He hadn’t passed out. He was dreaming. Netra had trapped him in a fabricated reality—a dreamscape of her own design.

Now it was two against three.

Virat’s military precision kicked in. He quickly scanned the battlefield and saw through the chaos: Luder was the linchpin. Take her out, and the illusions would fall. His eyes flared with determination.

“Ring of Weapons!” he shouted.

Above the arena, a glowing circle appeared. One by one, weapons rained down from it—swords, hammers, spears—all aimed at Team Luder. It was a risky move. But desperation demanded it.

Mahima shielded herself with molecular precision, deflecting the weapons like a conductor swatting away sound. But Luder and Netra weren’t as fortunate. The strike landed. Both dropped to one knee, injured.

The crowd held their breath. This could be it.

But just when it seemed like Virat’s team might pull ahead, Luder's shaky voice whispered, “Now.”

In perfect unison, Netra and Mahima joined her. The three of them touched hands, and the air shifted.

Clouds descended again, but this time, it wasn’t illusion. It was real—a dimension crafted by their unity.

“Tri-Fusion Skill: Dream Land.”

The entire arena vanished into swirling mist. The audience disappeared from view. The referee? Gone. The opposing team? Trapped inside. Time stood still in the Dream Land.

Inside this strange world, Team Virat’s energy began to fade. It wasn’t just psychological—the dimension siphoned their powers, slowly but inevitably. Every movement they made, every attack they attempted, only accelerated their decline.

There was no escape.

Luder vanished into illusions again, reappearing briefly just to confuse and mislead. Mahima calmly walked through attacks, manipulating molecules to dismantle weapons mid-air. Netra controlled the very reality Virat’s team was trapped in. They were fighting shadows while sinking in quicksand.

Eventually, even the stubborn Virat fell to one knee, breathing heavily, surrounded by smoke and silence. “We… surrender,” he said. There was pain in his voice—but also respect.

The clouds lifted.

The arena returned.

The referee stepped forward. “Team Luder wins. They advance to the second round!”

Thunderous applause echoed. But the team didn’t celebrate. Luder clutched her shoulder, bleeding. Netra looked pale. Mahima had a bruise forming on her cheek.

Victory had come at a cost.

After some time for healing, the next match was announced.

Second Round: Team Tulan vs Team Luder.

The crowd buzzed. Two undefeated teams.

Tulan’s Team:

·       Tulan – Thunder

·       Swasti – Water

·       Mercy – Unknown

Across from them stood Team Luder, now patched up and quieter, but their eyes burned with more fire than ever before.

The match began.

Without hesitation, Luder’s team activated Dream Land again. Clouds fell, and in seconds, the battlefield was cloaked in that familiar, eerie fog.

Swasti and Tulan launched powerful attacks—lightning bolts, walls of crashing water—but the more they fought, the faster their energy was drained. Dream Land fed on their power like a beast awakened.

But then… there was Mercy.

She stood perfectly still. Calm. Observant. Unaffected.

While Swasti and Tulan began to falter, Mercy didn’t flinch. No abilities drained. No exhaustion in her eyes.

It was as if Dream Land didn’t recognize her.

What was she?

As the fog thickened and Team Luder prepared for their final strike, a strange silence fell.

Was this the beginning of another easy win?

Or any storm hidden inside the calm?

To be continued...

Until next time, take care... and don’t forget to dream...............................