The roar of the stadium turned into an earthquake. It was impossible to tell one scream from another — sounds mixed together, horns exploded, flags waved as if trying to follow the pulse of the place. The whole city of Sanu seemed alive, in a trance, chanting Kelvin's name with a fervor that sounded like continuous thunder.

"KEL-VIN! KEL-VIN! KEL-VIN!"

The stands trembled. Children jumped on their parents' shoulders, fans hugged one another — some crying without knowing why. Others clapped so hard their hands burned. It was as if everyone had kept that scream buried for years, waiting for that exact moment — the instant Kelvin crossed the field and shattered Zenkai's defense.

In the central stands, Júlia froze for a few seconds, her eyes filling with tears. She had stood up without realizing it, her trembling hand covering her mouth, unable to speak. The sunlight brushed softly against her face, illuminating the eyes that followed Kelvin kneeling on the grass.

Her heart was pounding so fast it felt like it would burst from her chest. When Kelvin looked up and smiled, taking a deep breath, Júlia felt as if all the noise in the stadium had vanished for an instant. As if he were the only one there.

On the side stands, Samuka and Samuel were completely out of control.

"OH MY GOD! THAT GUY'S A DEMON!", shouted. Samuka, climbing onto the seat and waving his arms.

"HE WENT THROUGH FOUR! FOUR, MAN!", yelled Samuel, laughing like a kid watching his first goal.

The two hugged each other, jumping like fanatics, slapping each other's shoulders and shouting Kelvin's name.

"He's gotta go pro!"

In the row above them, Matheus Rios and Rafael Duarte — the former Sanu players — were also standing.

"My God… that kid…", murmured Rafael, eyes wide and smiling with a mix of shock and admiration.

Matheus clapped, laughing loudly.

"The state title is ours, Rafael! We've got the best team in the state!!!"

Rafael shook his head, still in disbelief.

"I've seen a lot on this field, but this is the first time I've seen the whole city witnessing a moment like this — and even better… cheering for Sanu"

The players' families were also in pure ecstasy.

Kelvin's mother, in the lower stands, was crying and laughing at the same time, her hands covering her face. Beside her, his father clapped and shouted:

"That's my son! THAT'S MY SON, MY GOD!"

Kelvin's little brother, wearing an oversized Sanu jersey, held up a handmade cardboard sign with the number 11 drawn in pen.

"GO KELVIN! I'M HERE!"

On the bench, the Sanu players who weren't on the field rushed to the sideline, jumping and hugging the coach.

Murilo ran all the way from the goal, and when he reached Kelvin, he pulled him up.

"YOU'RE CRAZY! YOU'RE A MONSTER!"

Ian was still laughing, drenched in sweat, patting Kelvin's head.

"How the hell did you do that, man?! HOW?!"

Dante, wide-eyed and with the most genuine smile possible, hugged them both, and Kazana came right after, shouting:

"THAT'S IT! THAT'S IT! THAT'S OUR COMEBACK!"

The crowd responded like a never-ending wave.

The sound seemed to rise from the ground, from the stands, from the air itself. The entire stadium pulsed as if it had a single heart.

Júlia, still watching, smiled — a small but proud smile.

"You really are different, Kelvin…"

The cheering didn't stop.

Flags rose, colored smoke filled the stands. The sky itself seemed to vibrate as the chants echoed across the whole stadium:

"SANU! SANU! SANU!"

Kelvin raised his arm, looking around. Every face, every shout, every flag. And for an instant, time stood still.

He thought about everything — the losses, the criticism, the comparisons, the weight of being "the promising kid"

Now, none of that mattered.

He was there, hearing his own name echo in the hearts of thousands.

"Why the fuck are you celebrating, you idiots?", Diego shouted furiously, but his voice was drowned by the crowd.

"Calm down, Dieg—", Biel tried to calm him, but was abruptly interrupted.

"CALM DOWN MY ASS, BIEL! I'M PASSING THE FUCKING BALL, SO WHY AREN'T WE WINNING?", his voice was deep, filled with rage. "ANSWER ME, BIEL!"

Biel stayed silent.

"You know what?", Diego's tone dropped, "Screw you and your tactics. I'm playing my way"

Biel stood frozen, sweat dripping down his face, eyes unfocused for a second. The crowd's roar was deafening, but down on the field, the air was different. Among Zenkai's players, it was heavy — almost suffocating.

Mateus, the defender, stepped closer, frowning.

"Diego, shut up and focus on the game," he said firmly, his tone flat.

But Diego glared with disgust, spitting on the ground before replying.

"You don't tell me what to do, big guy. We're losing because you're all too scared to fight back. I'm not"

Luquinhas, watching from a distance, let out a dry laugh, turning his face aside.

"So now you think you can fix everything on your own?", he provoked, brushing his hair aside.

"Better than hiding behind your useless little passes", Diego shot back, shoving his shoulder as he passed.

The argument didn't escalate only because the referee called the teams back to the center. There was still time on the clock, and Zenkai needed to react — but the looks on their faces said it all: fear, frustration, and a hint of despair.

On the other side, Kazana already had the ball at midfield, smiling like someone who wouldn't let the fire die out.

"Let's restart this", he said, spinning the ball under his foot.

He signaled for kickoff. The whistle blew, and the match resumed — but the atmosphere had completely shifted in Sanu's favor.

Meanwhile, Zenkai tried to recover, but their inner chaos tore apart every attempt at teamwork. Biel tried to direct, shouting for positioning, but Diego ignored him, forcing solo plays.

"Pass it, Diego!", Biel shouted, raising his arm.

"Catch it if you can!", Diego replied, trying to dribble past Dante — and failing miserably.

Dante stole the ball and prepared to pass to Felipe, but Luquinhas came from behind and snatched it.

Luquinhas spun quickly, controlling the ball with a precise touch and keeping balance even under Dante's pressure. His breathing was heavy, sweat dripping down his face, but something different burned in his eyes — a mix of frustration and determination. The Sanu fans were still roaring for the previous goal, but the sound felt distant in his ears. The only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat, pounding fast and hard inside his chest.

"Calm down…", he muttered to himself, lowering his stance, feeling the grass beneath his cleats. "I can still turn this around"

He lifted his gaze and saw Diego sprinting ahead, calling for the ball. The striker waved his arms, shouting Luquinhas's name.

"PASS IT! COME ON, PASS!"

But Luquinhas didn't want to.

Something inside him refused to obey.

He saw Diego as a wild animal, blinded by rage — and he didn't want to hand him control.

"No…", he thought, gritting his teeth, "he doesn't deserve this ball"

Diego kept yelling, closing in, his eyes full of fury.

"LUQUINHAS, PASS THE FUCKING BALL!"

Luquinhas trapped the ball between his feet and turned, pretending to pass, but kept it. He wanted to prove he could do it himself — that the team didn't depend on Diego.

He accelerated, ignoring Biel and Mateus shouting for him to pull back, but their voices no longer reached him. The world around him began to fade.

The field, the grass, the stands — everything spun around him.

Kelvin was already coming at him, eyes locked, body leaning in for the tackle. With every step Sanu's number 11 took, Luquinhas's heartbeat quickened.

He tried to stay calm, pushing the ball with his left foot, but when he glanced sideways, he saw Diego again.

And then something strange happened.

It was sudden — a feeling not from his body, but from somewhere deeper.

Time seemed to slow down. The sound of the stadium disappeared, and an invisible pressure weighed on his shoulders, forcing him to lean forward.

His breath caught. His muscles tightened on their own, as if they no longer belonged to him.

"What… what the hell…?", he whispered, eyes wide.

His chest burned. A heavy, dense energy filled him, as if someone had locked him from the inside. It was a feeling of submission — of inferiority — of blind obedience.

Diego sprinted toward the goal, not even looking back. He knew exactly what Luquinhas was feeling.

The pass was coming, because in this match, he was the king — and his team existed to serve him.

And before Luquinhas could react, before he could even understand what was happening, his right foot moved on its own.

The pass came out.

The ball glided perfectly across the grass, straight to Diego's feet — as if it were fate.

Luquinhas blinked, confused, his heart racing, his legs trembling.

He hadn't wanted to do that.

But somehow… he had no choice.

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