The ceremony had ended, but the real conclusion didn't arrive with applause or certificates. It arrived in silence—threaded through the footsteps of a boy who didn't need recognition to feel what had changed. While others huddled around dashboards and sponsor booths, refreshing their systems and comparing rankings, Pavan Raj walked alone down the quiet corridor near the edge of the Final Showcase stadium.
He wasn't in a hurry. His stride was calm, quiet, grounded. Not a single part of him needed to know what rank he placed or who had overtaken whom in the system leaderboard. Because the moment the match ended, something else had begun inside him—a sense of clarity so sharp it didn't rely on numbers or validation. His gloves hung from his side, still laced tight, the stitching worn by impact and sweat, carrying more than just dirt and fabric. They carried proof. And that was enough.
