Kazana stormed into the box like an enraged bull.

Two defenders came at him at the same time. He spun his body, using his left leg as a pivot, slicing between them. One tried to stretch a leg, but it was too late.

Kazana put his full force into the shot.

A missile.

The ball exploded against the post, bounced on the ground, hit the back of the goalkeeper who dived too late…

And went in.

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL!!!

The stadium erupted in screams.

Sanu's bench jumped like the world had flipped upside down. Júlia stood up, hands over her mouth, eyes wide open.

Kazana ran toward the corner flag, fists clenched, roaring like a beast.

Kelvin stood still.

Breathing deep.

Panting.

Sweating cold.

The feeling was still there. Strong. Intense. Almost suffocating.

The pressure coming from Kazana…

It was different from Erick's.

It wasn't control.

It was drive. Force. Instinct.

Like a beast awakening inside him — demanding respect.

Kelvin lowered his head.

"That was...", he murmured to himself.

But didn't finish.

Because deep down, he knew:

That goal didn't belong to Sanu.

It belonged to Kazana.

Erick stood still at the center circle, watching Kazana's wild celebration from afar.

The stadium's roar was deafening, but to him, it sounded like a distant hum. Other people's adrenaline didn't reach him. Not anymore.

He sighed deeply, his gaze vague, slightly annoyed. Sweat rolled down his temple, but he didn't even bother to wipe it. His eyes stayed fixed on the area where it all happened.

"I focused too much on Kelvin… — he muttered, like someone regretting betting on the wrong horse"

His head tilted slightly to the side. His gaze remained steady, but not on Kazana — instead, on himself, on his own tactical, strategic… emotional mistake.

"Damn it"

He slowly shook his head, then rubbed his face. His expression had changed. Not cold. Not calculating. Just tired.

He looked up at the scoreboard above the stadium.

3 to 2.

88 minutes.

Time was slipping like sand through fingers. Sanu was ahead. And for the first time in a long time, the world seemed to demand a reaction from him.

Erick took a deep breath.

A long one.

Closed his eyes for two seconds.

"Alright then…", he murmured.

When he opened his eyes again, something new was there. Not arrogance. Not rage. Urgency.

"I need to finish this already"

He looked at the darkening sky. Heavy clouds were gathering, stained by the red sunset. The wind blew cold, and he felt his body craving rest.

"I'm sleepy"

But it wasn't just literal.

It was existential.

Tired of the game, of the trash talk, of bets that weren't worth it. Tired of having to prove himself all the time, even when he already knew the answer. Erick didn't play to win. He played because it was a pastime.

He doesn't even know why he's like this. He remembers back in middle school, he used to care about matches, used to smile at the plays, but…

After a certain moment in his life — one he doesn't even recall anymore — everything just felt dull.

In decisive games, he started yawning, not from nerves, but from boredom. It became boring, because he already knew the match's outcome the moment he stepped onto the field.

The referee blew the whistle.

Héra restarted the play quickly.

Erick didn't ask. He just took.

Received it in midfield, spun on the defender, and took off. The field felt shorter, Sanu's players slower. Or maybe… he had finally decided to put an end to this boring game.

Dante tried to close the space. Erick flicked the ball forward and flew past him.

Victor came in desperation. Erick cut sharply, using the outside of his foot, without losing pace. He danced over the grass — but it was his rhythm, and the world had to follow.

Kazana tried to drop back and intercept, but Erick stepped on the ball, turned, and left two markers on the ground with a simple shoulder fake.

The box opened.

Murilo came off his line, shouting, arms wide.

Erick glanced at one corner.

Then the other.

And then, he simply stopped.

Leg lifted, body slightly tilted.

The chip.

Again.

The ball rose in a perfect arc, slow, lazy… almost mocking the keeper's desperation.

Murilo tried to backtrack, but the ball landed behind him, kissing the net like a well-told secret.

GOOOOOOOAL!

3 to 3.

Erick turned his back before even seeing the ball go in.

He didn't run. Didn't shout.

He walked.

Slowly. Head down. Yawning again, this time not even hiding it. It was his way of saying this was "normal."

In the stands, Júlia let out a surprised, nervous laugh. She knew exactly what that meant.

From Sanu's bench, the shouting stopped.

The silence of those who realize they woke something they shouldn't have.

Kazana, still panting, watched from afar, eyes narrowed.

Kelvin dropped to his knees on the field.

Rodrigo, beside him, shook his head.

Erick passed by Kelvin at midfield.

"Sorry about that", he said, without stopping. "I was too focused on you. Might've gotten your hopes up for something, but yeah… You're not like me"

He paused, then added in a resigned tone:

"In the end… you're just like the others"

Kelvin ignored him.

The game resumed as if time itself had hesitated after that goal.

But Sanu didn't stop. Couldn't. Shouldn't.

Rodrigo grabbed the ball in the center circle, spun past his marker, and passed to Ian, who was already advancing at speed. The number 8 controlled it first-time, looked up, and launched it left, where Kelvin was sprinting down the touchline.

The pass was inch-perfect.

Kelvin chested it down, the ball bounced, and he immediately cut inside, leaving Héra's fullback behind. Sanu's fans roared back to life, like embers reignited with a gust of wind.

Kelvin saw Kazana positioning in the box. Rodrigo was coming through the middle too. He made his choice: cut to his right foot and drilled in a low cross.

Kazana beat the defender, spun his body, and tried a first-time shot — but slipped. The ball deflected off his shin and popped up. Rodrigo went for the header, but a Héra defender lunged with his chest to clear.

The ball spilled at the top of the box.

Dante came in like lightning and went for the long shot.

A rocket, but it took a slight deflection from a defender. Still, it stayed on target.

Héra's keeper stretched — and the ball grazed the post, hitting the outside netting.

The crowd roared… then fell into the collective groan of "almost."

Kazana cursed under his breath. Rodrigo held his head in his hands. Kelvin exhaled and already sprinted back to defend.

But the ball was still Sanu's.

Danilo took the throw quickly, tossing it to Dante. The holding midfielder controlled it and, even with Erick nearby, didn't hesitate — he pushed forward with the ball glued to his foot.

Erick didn't press.

Just stood there, watching, like a predator waiting for his prey's mistake.

Dante hesitated. And that was enough.

Erick exploded into motion. Two steps. He slid — a clean, perfect tackle, stealing the ball with absurd precision — and came out with it already under control.

Rodrigo came charging in, but Erick spun with a sharp futsal-style dribble, faking with his body and escaping to the opposite side.

The stadium held its breath.

But this time, he didn't push forward. Just passed it sideways. It felt like he was only testing, playing.

Kelvin quickly recovered possession. Passed to Ian, who one-touched it to Kazana. The striker tangled with the defender but kept control.

He spun on the defender and laid it off to Rodrigo, coming from behind. Rodrigo entered the box, faked a shot, cut the defender, and went for the far post.

The ball flew past everyone.

Kelvin appeared at the far post, diving with his whole body.

And missed by inches.

The post shook from his impact. The crowd jumped up all at once, desperate.

"NO!", some screamed.

"LET'S GO!", others shouted, fired up by the pressure.

Kelvin got up quickly, frustrated, eyes burning. That had been his chance. Again. But like the entire game… something was missing.

Confidence? Strength? Luck?

No.

It was like the field now had a different center of gravity. As if everything orbited around one player — Erick.

And that player… wasn't even truly playing yet.

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