Unwanted Attention

Chase went to open the locker; however, to his surprise it slammed back shut as soon as he had creaked the old locker open.

A hand was pressed harshly against it, right above the small notch the boy had used to open it.

A boy a little older than Chase was standing to his right, with a rather angered expression on his face.

His eyes were a bright orange color, and his brows were furrowed violently, as he looked up at the coach who hadn't moved.

The boy had long bronze-colored hair, and sharp facial features, resting around his crooked nose.

"Gerald, what the hell is the meaning of this!"

He yelled in outrage.

Gerald shrugged lazily.

"Not my idea, it was the old bonehead upstairs who said to give him the locker."

The boy, growled and turned his attention toward Chase, who was staring back with an empty expression.

"You damn Stray, I bet you don't even know of the honor some worthless brat like you has stumbled upon."

Chase shook his head.

"No, sorry."

He said, with not a shred of sympathy in his tone.

"Whatever, you'll probably die next game anyway, better yet, I'll just kill you in a bit."

He said, walking out of the room, not even bothering to look at the filth who stood quietly in front of his new locker.

Several of Chase's new teammates, were given him either confused glances, or straight up death stares.

'This is gonna be a pain...'

He thought, letting out an exhausted sigh.

His eyes darted back to the scratched up number on the front of the locker once again.

'Why the hell is the number twenty-four so damn important anyway?'

The locker was probably one of the oldest ones in the entire room. Because of the force that the upper classman had delivered onto the locker, it was now slightly stuck in place.

Chase gained even stranger stares, as he tried to pry it open as best as he could.

He gave up, and let his head rest against the surface of the locker, as he looked at the floor with a defeated expression.

Suddenly, he noticed a large shadow come up behind him.

He slowly turned his head partially, to look at who was going to pay him a visit now, and to his surprise it was someone familiar.

A boy with a massive frame, and squinted eyes was looking down at Chase.

It was Hans of House Gaia, who was standing there behind him. Suddenly, the smaller boy had felt an aura of raw intimidation, which didn't help the mental image of The Panda he already had in his head.

However, Hans just gently placed his hands on Chase's shoulders, as the Stray's expression grew truly bewildered.

The Panda had picked him up, and moved him over to the left of the locker, setting him down casually.

He walked up to the locker, gripped the edge that was protruding from the corner of the locker, and lightly pulled, opening it with ease.

Without even giving Chase another glance, he followed after the hot headed upper classman who had already left the room.

He stood there for a few seconds, with a mix of different emotions on his face.

'What the hell...'

He thought, slowly looking inside of his locker that was now swung wide open.

Resting inside, was an old and wrinkled practice jersey, that must have not seen the light of day in decades.

A bunch of other things were also inside, such as a pair of knee padding, some compression underclothing, some other forms of protection, all of which were covered in dust.

But most importantly, in the back of the locker, behind a padded white helmet... was another helmet, this one was mainly black, with plenty of bright-orange aspects, as if the dust could not even comprehend just how beautiful the helmet truly was.

It resembled some sort of sleek-gladiator helmet, but made from elegant metallic materials, with curved plating that ran across the sides of it.

A curved opening sat at the front, with armor that covered the cheeks, but left the mouth open for clear communication, which connected to an opening around the eyes- forming a sort of T-shape for the mask.

With one last glace, noticing the enflamed phoenix emblem that rested on the crown of the rounded helmet, he took out his practice jersey, and began to shake it violently, attempting to get the dust off of it.

...

After Changing, Chase stepped out onto the field from the small entrance at the back of the locker room.

The blazing light of The Pyrothar immediately blinded him, as he tried his best to cover his eyes with his left hand.

Around him, was a truly vast expanse, above a stone wall, sat hundreds of rows of seating, and even a booth that rested at both ends of the coliseum, which towered above the rest of the seats.

Massive light posts surrounded the stadium as well, giving Chase the idea that most games would probably be played in the dead of night.

However, the crowd's section was not the part that amazed him the most.

It was the terrain, as well as the sheer size of the actual field.

Two mountains sat on opposite sides in the middle of the field, and the opposing cave-goal could not even be seen from the home team's side of the arena.

Chase could not even describe the field with his own words, but if he had to compare it with something else, he would say that the field was around the size of the village of Willowmere that he had grown up in.

'Maybe even bigger than Willowmere...'

He thought, his eyes still wide, as he noticed his teammates standing in a circle with Sir Gerald at the center.

He walked over, and made his way into the back of the group of boys.

"As you know already, we have two new players who have joined the team slightly late."

He gave a quick glance at Chase, and then turned his attention to another boy who was standing next to Hans of House Gaia.

He had long-black bangs resting over his eyes, which were barely visible through his padded helmet.

However, he could have sworn that the boy had a hint of a purple glare underneath his bangs.

The boy had broad shoulders, with a much less broader lower body, as if he had only trained upper body his entire life. 

"Gideon of House Voidborn, and Chase, the Nameless have joined our team due to classified reasons."

He said, with that same exhausted tone in his voice, as he blinked rapidly several times, probably trying to water down his tired eyes. 

"I was thinking, we play an eight versus eight scrimmage, since he have sixteen members of the team now, and since none of you idiots can handle playing a real match!"

He said, now practically yelling, getting a lot of members of the team to avoid direct eye contact with their coach.

"Alright, I already have the teams listed, so get ready, and take a look at which team your on." 

He held out a wrinkled up paper, that had a bunch of names scribbled on each side of it.