The crowd's roar still echoed in the air, but Bright heard none of it.
His heartbeat was a steady drum in his ears.
His hands, curled into fists, buzzed faintly with the electricity he had just begun to control.
He took a deep breath, feeling the crackling energy under his skin, alive and hungry.
Across the battlefield, Kunal Yadav adjusted his expensive armor, flashing a casual smile to the audience. His golden gear shimmered under the arena lights, a stark contrast to Bright's simple combat uniform.
"He thinks this will be easy," Bright thought, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Let him."
---
In the stands, two women watched with anxious eyes —
Bright's Big Mom and his Real Mom, sitting together for the first time at an event like this.
Their hands tightly gripped each other, hope and fear swirling in their hearts.
Bright's sister sat beside them, fists clenched in nervous excitement.
Back home, his Dad watched silently on the TV screen.
---
The referee's voice boomed over the arena.
"The Match —
Gourav Dutta versus Kunal Yadav!
Both participants ready?"
Bright nodded once, calm but burning inside.
Kunal gave a cocky salute, soaking in the cheers.
The referee raised his hand high.
"BEGIN!"
---
BZZZZZTT!
Bright shot forward using Thunder Steps —
but something was wrong.
As he moved, he felt a crushing weight on his mind.
An invisible pressure, cold and suffocating, pressed down on him.
Psycrush.
Kunal's ability was subtle but deadly,
drowning Bright's senses under a flood of mental interference.
His movements slowed.
His control over his lightning faltered.
Thunder Steps fizzled halfway through, making him stumble awkwardly.
Kunal grinned wickedly and counterattacked.
---
WHAM!
Bright was hit hard in the gut, sent skidding backward across the arena.
Pain exploded in his ribs.
He coughed violently, struggling to get up.
---
In the stands, both moms stood up at once, gasping.
Big Sis covered her mouth, eyes wide with fear.
Back home, Dad clenched his fists.
"He's struggling..." Big Mom whispered, fear cracking her voice.
---
Bright staggered back to his feet, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth.
"Damn it... my body's heavy... I can't control my lightning...!"
Kunal chuckled, stepping forward confidently.
"Weak. You're nothing but a spark."
Bright growled low under his breath.
He tried gathering electricity again —
but it fizzled, wild and unstable.
"Why can't I... focus...?"
---
Then, a memory surfaced.
A voice, calm and firm, from a quiet evening during training.
Ansur's voice.
"Bright — remember this:
When the mind panics, the body stumbles.
Calm your heart.
Feel the storm, but don't fight it.
Become it."
---
Bright closed his eyes.
He ignored Kunal's mocking laughter.
He ignored the pain.
He ignored the crowd.
He listened —
to the faint buzzing under his skin.
To the heartbeat syncing with the crackle of thunder.
Slowly, he let go of the fear.
He embraced the storm inside him.
He became it.
---
His eyes snapped open —
sharp, electric blue, burning with new fire.
The pressure around him weakened.
Thunder began to dance properly around his arms and legs.
Kunal's smile wavered.
"What the hell—?"
---
Bright took a step forward.
BOOM!
The ground cracked under his foot.
He vanished, reappearing behind Kunal instantly.
THUNDER STEPS!
Kunal barely raised his guard before Bright's first punch landed.
WHAM!
And then it began.
Bright moved second by second, landing strike after strike, moving too fast for Kunal to react.
---
Kunal gritted his teeth and summoned the earth beneath them.
Psycrush: Terra Break!
The ground ruptured —
rocks floating under his psychic command.
He shaped them into deadly lances, sending them raining down on Bright.
---
But Bright was no longer the same.
FZZZZT! BOOM!
He stepped lightly onto the first rock, using it as a springboard.
Then the second.
Then the third.
Moving through the battlefield like a living storm.
Every step left a flash of blue lightning, every leap split the air with thunder.
---
Every time a rock came near,
he punched, kicked, or dodged with grace and violence —
turning the battlefield into a chaotic dance of destruction.
CRASH! CRACK! THOOM!
The audience screamed in awe as Bright's figure blurred and flashed between explosions, moving faster than any eye could track.
Kunal gritted his teeth harder, sweat pouring down his face.
"Why can't I hit him?!"
He focused harder, pouring more of his psychic energy into the floating stones.
The rocks twisted unnaturally, becoming sharp spears instead of blunt boulders.
He unleashed a barrage.
Psycrush: Earth Lance!
Hundreds of rocky spears shot towards Bright, like a rain of death.
---
But Bright's mind was calm.
He could see it now — the flow of the battlefield, the current of attacks, the rhythm of chaos.
Thanks to Ansur's advice.
"Guide it with your soul, not force."
His Thunder Steps evolved further, the second stage blooming inside him.
Electricity roared through his muscles — not as an enemy, but as an ally.
Every step became lighter, every movement sharper.
He dodged the first spear by tilting a few millimeters.
Leaped over the second.
Kicked the third aside with a spinning heel.
FZZZAP!
The very air crackled around him as he slipped through the rain of death like water through cracks.
In one smooth motion, he landed directly in front of Kunal.
Their eyes met.
For a second, time seemed to freeze.
Bright's eyes burned with unshakable determination — the eyes of someone who had been broken, beaten, and still stood up to chase the sky.
Kunal's eyes flickered with fear for the first time.
---
Bright grinned savagely.
"My turn."
---
Thunder Strike!
A devastating punch wrapped in lightning crashed into Kunal's psychic shield.
BOOOM!
Cracks spiderwebbed across the invisible barrier.
Kunal gasped, pouring more energy to strengthen it.
But Bright didn't stop.
He attacked again.
Thunder Strike! Thunder Strike! Thunder Strike!
Every punch shook the earth.
Every punch roared with the sound of thunder.
Crack after crack appeared on the shield.
Kunal's face twisted in disbelief.
"This can't be happening! I'm stronger! I'm better!"
But strength wasn't just about raw power.
It was about heart.
It was about dreams.
It was about the will to never kneel.
And Bright's heart burned brighter than any storm.
---
Thunder Steps: Second Stage: THUNDER TACKLE!
Bright launched himself with every ounce of force, turning into a living thunderbolt.
The tackle crashed into Kunal's shield like a heavenly punishment.
KABOOOOOM!!
The shield shattered into nothingness.
Bright's shoulder drove into Kunal's chest, sending him flying across the battlefield like a ragdoll.
The air itself split open with a massive shockwave.
Dust and debris exploded outward, rattling the entire arena.
---
When the dust settled...
Kunal lay motionless on the ground, twitching weakly.
His armor was cracked.
His pride was shattered.
His ghamand — the arrogant smirk he always wore — had been completely wiped away.
---
Bright stood in the center of the ruined field, lightning sparking around him, his fists still clenched, his chest heaving with breath.
His body was battered.
His clothes were torn.
But he stood tall.
He stood victorious.
His eyes blazed — not with madness, not with anger —
but with the pure, burning joy of someone who had broken his limits.
---
The Announcer's voice, heavy with excitement, thundered through the stadium:
"Winner — GOURAV DUTTA!!"
---
Bright stood in the center of the battlefield, electricity dancing around him,
his chest heaving, his soul victorious.
---
The crowd erupted.
"BRIGHT! BRIGHT! BRIGHT!"
His friends screamed his name, faces alight with joy.
In the stands, both his Moms broke into tears —
holding each other, crying, laughing at once.
Big Sis jumped up and down, screaming.
At home, Dad wiped his eyes proudly.
Ansur smiled quietly in the shadows, muttering:
"Beautiful. You're becoming a storm yourself, Bright."
And far away, hidden in shadow, the mysterious figure chuckled darkly.
"Now... the true story begins."
---
Bright looked up at the endless sky above him.
The storm had become part of him.
And he had become the storm.
He smiled — a pure, fearless smile.
And whispered to himself:
"I will be the strongest man in the world... for sure."
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
To be continued...