White-ball cricket didn't wait for form to settle.
Three days after grinding Nottinghamshire into submission at Old Trafford, Zayn Rahman stood beneath the floodlights at Emirates Old Trafford, dressed in a Lancashire T20 shirt instead of whites. Different colours. Same nerves. Different rhythm entirely.
The Hundred had changed attention spans. So had social media. In red-ball cricket, you earned respect over sessions. In T20s, you earned it in overs.
Lancashire versus Yorkshire. Roses rivalry. A near-full house.
Zayn stretched along the boundary as the DJ tested the speakers. He could already feel the contrast. No slip cordon. No patience demanded from the crowd. They wanted intent. Now.
Yorkshire's lineup was stacked. Dawid Malan opening. Jonny Bairstow at three. Adil Rashid waiting with the ball. Names that meant something—not just to England, but to the game.
Lancashire lost the toss and were sent in.
Zayn opened.
The system responded immediately.
[Batting Mode: Root Template – Adaptive White-Ball Variant]
[Risk Calibration: Adjusted]
First ball: length outside off. Zayn punched it past point for four.
The crowd erupted.
Second: fuller, slower. He checked his shot, nudged a single.
This wasn't slogging. This was reading the field, manipulating angles. Root didn't muscle balls over the ropes—he threaded them. Zayn did the same.
By the third over, the bowlers adjusted. Slower balls. Wide lines. Zayn waited. When Rashid was introduced early, he didn't sweep recklessly. He stepped out once, met the ball on the half-volley, and lifted it cleanly over long-on.
Six.
Lancashire's dugout stood up instinctively.
Zayn finished the powerplay on thirty-two off twenty balls. Not explosive. Perfectly placed.
At the other end, Jos Buttler—back with Lancashire for a short stint—was already shifting gears. The presence alone changed everything. Bowlers panicked. Fields spread. Pressure fractured.
Zayn fell in the ninth over, mistiming a slower ball from Matthew Fisher. He walked off annoyed—but not frustrated. He'd done his job.
Lancashire posted a competitive total.
Then came his second role.
The captain called him over as the lights brightened further.
"You'll take the new ball," he said.
Zayn nodded.
Facing Malan and Bairstow under lights wasn't theory—it was proof. The system pulsed, alert but calm.
[Fast Bowling Mode: Anderson Template – White-Ball Control]
[Target: Powerplay Suppression]
First ball to Malan: full, swinging back in.
Dot.
Second: slightly shorter, shaping away.
Edge—but just wide of slip.
Third: Yorker. Perfect.
Malan exhaled.
Bairstow tried to counter. Charged. Zayn adjusted, bowling into the pitch. The ball climbed. Bairstow mistimed it straight to mid-wicket.
Out.
The stadium roared.
Zayn didn't celebrate theatrically. He turned, expression unchanged, and returned to his mark. He knew what mattered wasn't the wicket—it was how it came.
[High-Profile Dismissal: Logged]
He finished his spell with figures that analysts loved: economical, controlled, disruptive. Not flashy. Effective.
Lancashire won.
After the match, microphones appeared. Questions came fast.
"Zayn, batting opener and bowling powerplay—do you see yourself as an all-rounder?"
Zayn paused.
"I see myself as a cricketer," he said. "Formats change. Skills don't."
The clip went everywhere.
Two days later, it was an ODI warm-up at Lord's.
England versus a County XI. Not a cap—but close enough to feel it.
Zayn stood on the same balcony he'd watched as a kid.
Opposition bowlers included Chris Woakes and Reece Topley, both easing back from workloads. No gifts. No indulgence.
Zayn opened again.
The system adjusted.
[List-A Mode: Hybrid Stability]
He started cautiously, then opened up once set. A drive off Woakes that echoed around Lord's. A glide past third man off Topley that drew murmurs.
He reached fifty again.
With the ball, he bowled first change. The slope mattered. He used it. Late swing. Nipped it back.
One wicket.
Clean bowled.
Someone in the England dugout nodded.
After the match, as players filtered through the indoor nets, Zayn crossed paths with Lauren Bell again. This time, she didn't just nod.
"Busy week," she said.
"Feels like it," he replied.
"You handled Bairstow well."
He smiled slightly. "He came hard."
She laughed. "They always do."
A pause. Comfortable. Unforced.
"Well," she said, adjusting her kit bag, "good luck with the rest of it."
"Thanks," Zayn said. "You too."
The system logged it quietly.
[Romantic Variable – Lauren Bell: 2%]
[Mutual Professional Respect: Established]
That night, Zayn sat alone in his hotel room, watching clips from the week. Red ball. White ball. Different contexts. Same composure.
England didn't need specialists anymore.
They needed solutions.
Zayn intended to be one.
End of Chapter 2
Author's Comment
Chapter 2 expands Zayn into the modern, multi-format arena using real names and high-profile opponents to ground the progression in reality. His skillset remains subtle, intelligent, and selection-ready rather than explosive.
The romance remains intentionally restrained—recognition before connection.