The stadium held its breath. The silence was almost suffocating for a moment, only broken by the muffled shouts of a few fans who had already realized what was about to happen.

Kazana received the ball at full speed, controlled it with one touch, and without hesitation, spun his body into a crisp shot. The ball exploded across the grass, tearing through the turf, and flew with deadly precision toward the opponent's goal. Luquinhas appeared to intercept the shot, but the ball moved with such speed and contained rage that he didn't even get close. Zenkai's goalkeeper stretched out, but it was too late. The ball hit the back of the net with a sound that made the entire stadium erupt.

"I'M HERE!", shouted Kazana, ripping off his shirt, lifting it above his head as he ran toward the fans. Every muscle in his body pulsed with energy, adrenaline, and euphoria. His teammates followed, hugging him, jumping, shouting, an explosion of joy that swept through everyone in the stadium.

Sanu's fans stood as one, as if the stadium were a single living organism, their shouts blending into a deafening roar that made the ground tremble beneath cleats and the stands alike. Flags waved, fans cried, some laughed, others shouted, and everyone was united in one massive burst of happiness.

Kelvin ran after Kazana, patting the captain on the back, smiling with eyes shining with pride. Dante came right behind, panting, but wearing a grin that couldn't fit on his face. Felipe, Ian, and Rodrigo approached, jumping and laughing, slapping each other on the back, celebrating the goal that had changed the course of the match.

Kazana, still holding his shirt high, looked across the stadium and saw thousands of raised hands, bodies moving, faces sweaty and painted with emotion. He raised his arm as if trying to absorb all that energy, all that force from the fans.

"That's it, guys! It's ours! Let's turn this around!", shouted Kazana, his voice cutting across the field, full of authority and emotion.

Zenkai's players looked on in shock. Luquinhas, Diego, and Biel froze for a moment, stunned. They hadn't expected that reaction, that perfectly synchronized goal, that display of courage and game vision that Kazana, Dante, and Kelvin had just shown.

From the bench, Sanu's coach clapped with a wide smile.

The stadium didn't stop. Every fan seemed like an invisible giant carrying the players, pushing them with pure energy. Flags fluttered, the sound of applause echoed like thunder, and the euphoria was contagious. Even the reporters covering the match barely managed to concentrate, each capturing every scene, every movement, every shout.

Zenkai, still in shock, tried to reorganize, but Sanu allowed no time to breathe. The goal had given new energy, new life. Every pass, every touch, every move from Sanu now carried the certainty that they could turn the game around. The score was even again: 2–2.

But the feeling was far greater than numbers. It was the sensation of perfect synchronicity, absolute confidence, a team that, even amidst chaos and pressure, found solutions together. Every player knew their role; every movement had purpose. And the fans, now completely euphoric, seemed to vibrate in unison with every breath of the team.

Kazana took a deep breath, adrenaline still coursing through his body, and looked at Kelvin and Dante. They exchanged a brief, silent look, but one full of meaning. A look that said: "We're in this together. We're ready for anything."

The referee blew the whistle to restart the match, but before that, he showed Kazana a yellow card for taking off his shirt. The Sanu captain didn't even care — he just smiled.

The ball rolled again, and Zenkai seemed to have woken from a trance. Luquinhas, tireless, received the pass near the midfield sideline, completely euphoric.

"I won't lose, I won't lose," he muttered to himself.

His eyes were fixed on the space ahead, and his determination was almost tangible. Every step carried the urgency of someone needing to recover lost advantage.

Diego positioned himself ahead, signaling for a quick pass. Luquinhas didn't hesitate: he sent a low, precise pass, perfectly reaching his teammate's feet. Diego immediately returned it with a first-touch pass, maintaining the speed and flow of the attack, forcing Oliveira to move forward, alert to every motion.

The stadium held its breath. Every touch, every short pass from Zenkai carried danger. Sanu's fans, still euphoric from the equalizer, now remained on high alert. Every move of Luquinhas was studied; every spin seemed to calculate the next seconds of the game.

When the ball returned to Luquinhas, he spun, pulling Diego with him, trying to create space. But Rodrigo was there, solid, perfectly positioned, ready to intercept any shot attempt. Luquinhas faked the attack, accelerated a touch — and Rodrigo lunged to block.

But the ball wasn't meant for the shot. Luquinhas deceived Rodrigo with a subtle touch, shifting his body and passing to Biel, who moved back to maintain the rhythm of the play. Rodrigo, confused, reacted too late. In the next instant, Oliveira acted. He saw the opportunity, anticipated Biel's move, and intercepted the ball firmly.

The counterattack began there, like a snap of perfect reaction. Rodrigo turned, sent a quick, precise pass to Ian, who was already moving down the left, opening space. Number 10 received it perfectly, controlling the ball without losing a moment.

Felipe advanced in support, maintaining the width of the field. Kelvin noticed the space, quickly assessed the defenders, ready to receive a possible pass.

Zenkai, meanwhile, began to feel the pressure of the counterattack. Luquinhas and Diego tried to recover, but Sanu's speed in midfield and precision in passing left them a step behind. Biel shouted instructions, trying to reorganize the defensive line, but Sanu had already set the pace that would dominate this stretch of the field.

Ian, noticing that Zenkai was completely disorganized, passed to Kelvin, who controlled the ball and looked toward the goal.

"My turn to play with you guys"

[Ability Activated: Instinctive Dribble]

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