The grand arena of the Under-20 Tournament buzzed with excitement as the first round of the 1v1 bracket officially commenced.
The stadium was split into massive sub-sections to accommodate the vast groups of young prodigies testing their limits.
Down in the registry for Group 1, Draz casually stepped onto the stone tiles, completely unfazed by the roaring crowd.
Right behind his shoulder, his floating camera drone hummed smoothly, streaming the entire event live to his millions of subscribers.
"Yo, what is up, chat!" Draz laughed, waving a hand at the camera. "We are live from Group 1, and it's time to farm some easy content."
Standing across from the eldest brother was his first opponent: a young, remarkably built prodigy named Rock.
Rock was only 11 years old, but his posture carried a fierce, disciplined intensity that caught the crowd's attention.
His specialized combat style was rooted entirely in the FV Type: Fighting format, a discipline focused on raw, high-friction close-combat Urja.
Rock slammed his fists together, a dense, crimson shockwave of physical energy crackling violently around his forearms.
"I don't care how old you are or what titles you hold!" Rock yelled, his voice full of youthful bravado. "I'm breaking through Group 1!"
The structural referee drone floated above the center of the ring, its mechanical visor flashing a bright, solid green.
"GROUP 1 — ROUND 1: BEGIN!"
Rock didn't hesitate for a single fraction of a second. He lunged forward like a heat-seeking missile, breaking the sound barrier.
His fists blurred into a relentless barrage of high-velocity close-range strikes, aiming straight for Draz's vital points.
Every single physical punch Rock threw was backed by the dense, crushing weight of his fighting-type Urja.
Yet, against the eldest Khandaker brother, Rock's ferocious close-range offense felt like absolutely nothing.
Draz didn't even raise his arms to guard. He simply stood in place, his casual, smiling face completely relaxed.
The raw, unadulterated Urja radiating off Draz was so immensely dense that it functioned like an invisible, absolute wall.
Every single one of Rock's high-impact fists hit the air inches away from Draz, their momentum entirely swallowed by the passive barrier.
To the onlookers, Draz's personal Urja reserve felt utterly bottomless, behaving like a literal infinite sea.
"Nice try, kiddo," Draz chuckled, his eyes flashing with a playful, overconfident glint. "But your combo is way too predictable."
Deciding to end the match with theatrical flair for his live stream, Draz immediately executed a devastating, fluid sequence.
Blink. Blink. Blink.
Draz vanished from sight, utilizing a rapid-fire spatial teleportation that left three identical, static afterimages around Rock's blind spots.
Before the 11-year-old could even register the movement, Draz reappeared directly in front of him, channeling his energy.
"HYPER BEAM!"
A massive, concentrated torrent of pure, blinding Urja erupted from Draz's palm, engulfing Rock and blowing his stance completely apart.
Without letting the boy fall, Draz closed the distance instantly, his fists blurring into a rhythmic, inescapable pattern.
Fist. Fist. Fist.
Three perfectly placed, lightning-fast physical strikes rattled Rock's defenses, completely neutralizing his remaining fighting aura.
With a casual, almost lazy rotation of his shoulder, Draz delivered the final, definitive Knockout Punch right to the center of mass.
The impact sent Rock sliding across the stone tiles, his eyes rolling back as he fell entirely unconscious, completely defeated.
The referee drone immediately dropped its visor, signaling the definitive conclusion of the opening match.
"WINNER: KHANDAKER G.O.D L URJA DRAZ DINO LION!"
Draz didn't even break a sweat. He won the entire encounter effortlessly, looking like a high-level player beating a useless computer bot in a basic game.
He grabbed his floating camera drone, flashing a peace sign. "And that, chat, is how you clear a round in under ten seconds!"
Far above the atmosphere, floating directly within the blazing crimson solar flares of the star Colex-5411025, the Five-Armed Man watched.
He sat cross-legged in the 5,411,025-degree heat, his upper left hand supporting his chin while his lower right hand held his cosmic plunger.
His central third eye zoomed in on the Group 1 arena, watching Draz casually walk off the battlefield with his camera.
A thin, amused chuckle escaped the Janitor's throat as he shook his head in the middle of the roaring solar winds.
"Ah," the Five-Armed Man whispered to himself. "The G.O.D. of Urja is remarkably strong compared to the rest of his age group. This tournament might keep me entertained after all."
CLIFFHANGER:
As Draz exits the stage, the main monitors flash the upcoming brackets for Group 5. Lam's name ignites in bright violet text, and across from him, Masha slowly walks out from the dark tunnels, her hands glowing with an unpredictable, shifting frequency.