Zeltin tried to react immediately. Elias dropped deeper, looked for the ball in midfield, and tried to link up with Bruno. But every attempt crashed against the wall called Oliveira. When it wasn't him, it was Danilo or Victor covering.

On the other side, Sanu grew bolder with their confidence. Ian spread passes like a conductor, Dante fought for every ball, and Rodrigo tormented down the right wing.

At the half-hour mark, Felipe burst down the flank, crossed low, and Kazana glanced it with his head. The ball skimmed the post. The stadium nearly collapsed in anticipation.

Zeltin still believed. With ten minutes left, Bruno escaped from Dante, pushed forward, and tried a long-range strike. The shot was powerful, headed for the corner, but Murilo flew across to palm it away, saving what would've been the equalizer.

"LET'S GOOO!", Murilo shouted, punching the air, firing up the crowd.

Zeltin threw everything forward, while Sanu dropped back to protect the lead. Oliveira, impassive, intercepted everything that came his way.

Zeltin tried to pile bodies into attack, but the more they pushed forward, the more space they left behind. Elias forced plays, Bruno shouted to organize, but the nerves were obvious. Sanu, on the other hand, seemed to breathe in rhythm with the fans. Every interception by Oliveira, every duel Dante won, every run from Ian made the stadium roar like it was a goal.

Kelvin dropped deeper to get on the ball, joining the build-up. He controlled in midfield, spun smoothly past Bruno, and sent Felipe sprinting down the right. The winger accelerated, but was quickly closed down and had to play back to Rodrigo. Zeltin's pressing came aggressive, desperate to win it back.

Rodrigo glanced inside and returned it to Ian. The number 8 turned, shielded, and found Dante free. Dante received it, lifted his head, and spotted Kazana calling for it in the middle. The Sanu captain stepped back, bracing himself. The pass came firm and low.

Kazana didn't think twice. He controlled with the outside of his right foot, shifted it to his left, and without moving forward, unleashed a rocket from distance. The ball ripped through the air, arrowing toward goal. Zeltin's keeper dived desperately, but got nowhere near. The net shook violently as the ball slammed home.

The crowd's roar was deafening. Kazana spread his arms wide, pounding his chest, roaring like a lion before his pack. Teammates swarmed him, shoving, hugging, while he kept screaming.

"THIS IS SANU!", the captain bellowed, raising his fist toward the stands.

Felipe jumped on him, Ian laughed uncontrollably, Rodrigo shook his head in disbelief at the violence of the strike. Even Murilo ran halfway out of his box to celebrate. It was the third goal, confirmation that Sanu wasn't just playing well — they were completely dominating.

On the other side, Zeltin's players looked at each other, searching for answers. Bruno paced in frustration, while Elias kicked the air, unable to hide his anger. The coach shouted for calm, but no one seemed to hear.

The game resumed, but Zeltin's mentality was clearly shaken. They still had possession, but not the same conviction. Elias tried to push forward, but every time he faced Oliveira, it felt like running into an unbreakable wall. Bruno looked for short passes, but Dante hunted him like a shadow, stealing the ball.

And in that moment, Kelvin's instinct began to take over.

[Skill Activated: Instinctive Dribble]

He drifted near the center circle, asked for the ball from Dante, who served him immediately. The number 11 received with his back to goal and instantly felt Bruno's pressure. Instead of a quick pass, he spun away with a sharp feint.

A wave of "oooh" echoed from the crowd.

Kelvin surged forward. Elias came head-on, trying to close the space. The dribble came naturally, without thought: a quick step-over, followed by a sharp cut inside. Elias was left behind, not even able to touch him. Kelvin lifted his head and saw two defenders converging.

Mayke on the right, another through the center. He didn't stop. A quick cut left dropped the first defender to the ground. The second tried to keep up, but Kelvin burst past, the ball glued to his foot like an extension of his body.

"STOP HIM!", Bruno shouted, desperate.

But no one could. Kelvin drove into the box, surrounded by three defenders. They lunged, but every touch of his looked improvised and perfect at the same time. A step on the ball, a body feint, and he slipped away from sliding tackles.

The goalkeeper rushed out to close the angle. Kelvin breathed deeply, as if time slowed around him. With a delicate left-footed touch, he bypassed the keeper. Before the last defender could recover, he tapped it softly into the back of the net.

The stadium erupted like a volcano.

The crowd chanted his name in unison, some lifting shirts, others crying tears of joy. Kelvin spread his arms wide, sliding on his knees across the turf, eyes closed, an instinctive smile on his face. His teammates mobbed him, piling on top.

"HE'S A MACHINE!", Ian shouted, hugging him.

Rafael, on the sideline, jumped in disbelief. He clapped, laughed, pulled his hair, as if he had no words for what he had just witnessed.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Zeltin's players were in shock. Elias stared blankly, Bruno bit his lip, trying to contain his frustration. The goalkeeper was still on the ground, pounding the turf, knowing he had done everything he could.

The scoreboard read 4–0. Sanu had killed the game.

But the boys didn't stop. Their confidence was so high they kept playing like they needed more goals. Dante zipped passes, Ian popped up everywhere, Felipe and Rodrigo switched wings to confuse the marking.

Kazana, the captain, shouted nonstop — organizing, urging, demanding intensity. Oliveira, silent as always, continued to rule his area, every interception earning applause.

Zeltin tried to at least pull one back, but it was far too late. Elias attempted a long shot, but Murilo held firm, no rebound. Bruno sought a one-two, but Dante stripped him cleanly. The opposition looked exhausted, out of strength.

Sanu, on the other hand, looked more alive than ever.

In midfield, Ian stole another ball and quickly fed Rodrigo. He burst down the right, squared it low. Kazana battled the defender, the ball spilled back to him. The captain didn't hesitate. He cut inside, set himself, and struck with his left.

This time, it wasn't from distance, but the power was the same. The ball rocketed into the net once again.

It was Sanu's fifth goal.

The stadium collapsed in celebration. Fans screamed, jumped, hugged strangers. Some spilled down the stands to get closer to the pitch, crying with joy.

Sanu's players mobbed Kazana. The captain shouted, pointing at the badge on his chest.

"THIS IS SANU! THIS IS SANU!"

Kelvin laughed, hugging his captain. He had already scored a wonder goal himself, but seemed even happier to see his teammate shine. Ian ran around aimlessly, not knowing who to celebrate with. Murilo raised his arms from goal, celebrating alone with a grin stretching ear to ear.

On the other side, Zeltin was completely crushed. Elias kicked the turf, Bruno argued with the defense, and the goalkeeper kept his head down. The coach shouted, but no one was listening anymore.

The referee's whistle came soon after, calling the end.

Sanu 5, Zeltin 0.

The explosion of joy was indescribable. Sanu's players collapsed on the pitch, others sprinted to the stands to celebrate with the fans. Rafael hugged his assistants, tears in his eyes.

Kelvin dropped to his knees, breathing deeply, still feeling adrenaline in every fiber of his body. Kazana raised his arms to the sky, screaming as if releasing years of frustration. Oliveira, silent as ever, simply walked to the center circle, shaking hands with opponents without a trace of emotion.

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