Legacy Field was gone.
Now came The Chamber— a rotating pitch complex hidden behind steel gates, known only to league insiders.
Here, matches weren't broadcast.They were recorded.Then dissected frame by frame by national-level tacticians.
Each player wasn't just being tested for skill.They were being measured for command.
Twenty-four candidates stood on a circular field.
Only six would captain.
Six games.Six leadership styles and everyone would play under someone else at least once.
But the final judgment?
"Who do people follow, even when they don't have to?"
Raj stood at position 11.
No uniform name.No badge.Just silent eyes.But every captain present had already marked him.
Some curious.Some intimidated and one named Abhay outright dismissive.
He whispered to the player beside him, "Watch him freeze once decisions start flying."
Raj didn't look up.He didn't have to.Because silence, in places like this, wasn't absence.
It was ammunition.
