Molis Harrison stood before the Devertary United players as he turned on the big screen.
The room dimmed as the footage of the Night Phantom 5–0 Ventas City match began to play.
The Devertary United players sat in silence, eyes fixed with anticipation running through the air like static.
The screen flickered alive with the opening whistle by the referee.Gumnar Kruger, the Night Phantom captain and defensive midfielder, sent a sharp short pass into the feet of Adrien Pierre, their central engine.
Pierre surged forward with blistering pace, carving a path through the middle everywhere he passed revealed evidence of his besserk speed,before sliding the ball down the left wing.
Jorge Héctor the Night phantom left midfielder met it cleanly, trapping the ball with ease before threading a swift, decisive pass back inside toward Pierre, who had cleverly drifted into space.
But the Ventas City's captain, Taro Hiroshi, read the move perfectly.
With a timely interception, he broke the rhythm and quickly linked with his fellow defensive midfielder, Leonardo Santos.
The two darted forward, exchanging crisp one-touch passes, building momentum.
Their flow was suddenly interrupted when Giovanni Rizzo stormed from his position, cutting off their options.
Pressed for time, Taro Hiroshi swung the ball wide to Alves Pedro.
Before Alves Pedro could even settle, West Harry pounced.
In one ruthless motion, he stole the ball, danced forward, and unleashed a dazzling flick-over-heel that left Tomás Morales and Thompson Noah in his wake.
The crowd roared in the footage as Harry bolted down the pitch. He whipped in a thunderous cross aimed straight at the heart of Ventas City's box.
The Vnetas City defender,Souza Silva leapt desperately, stretching every fiber to change the course of the ball ——but missed.
The ball thundered onto the feet of Momodu Osas, Night Phantom's lone striker. With a single devastating strike, he buried the ball into the net.
Ventas City Goalkeeper Amir Benkirane froze—helpless, motionless.
1–0 to Night Phantom. The clock read 20 minutes.
Harrison paused the screen. His voice broke the silence.
"This," he said gravely, "is the team we're up against—risky moves, unpóóredictable gameplay, insane linkups, and genius-level communication. They don't just play. They create chaos."
The players exchanged tense glances. Muscles tensed, fists clenched. Fired up.
Captain Wolf Deo finally spoke, his voice firm:
"Don't worry, Coach. Against Night Phantom, we'll give it everything. We'll fight."
Harrison nodded with pride and hit play again.
---
The scene shifted, replaying Night Phantom's dominant clash against Nixon Pool.
The scoreboard read: 75 minutes – Night Phantom 3, Nixon Pool 1.
From the right sideline, Mohammed Omar hurled a quick throw-in toward Gunnar Krüger.
The captain wasted no time,slipping past two Nixon Pool players with smooth footwork before sprinting down the flank.
Krüger lifted his head, delivering a cross to the far side, aiming for Richter Hoffman.
But before it could reach him, Kim Austin-Nixon Pool's captain and midfield anchor,cut in sharply, plucking the ball from the air.
With a swift pivot, Austin turned, ready to launch a counterattack,But West Harry was already on him.
In one clean stretch of his boot, Harry nicked the ball away, stealing it back before Austin could find support.
The crowd erupted as Harry spun with ease and sent a fierce ball curling back into the Nixon Pool box.
Both center-backs, Stefan Björk and Cavalcanti Hugo, leapt desperately, stretching for the interception.
Harry only smirked, his voice carrying through the chaos:
"This cross is for one player only,no one else."
And then it happened.
Between the defenders, Momodu Osas exploded into the frame.
His body twisted midair, and in one breathtaking motion, he executed a stunning bicycle kick.
The ball rocketed past Heyden Sébasten, who flung himself toward the right post, fingers grazing empty air.
The net rippled violently.
Goal!
The stadium roared as the scoreboard flashed: 83 minutes – Night Phantom 4, Nixon Pool 1.
Momodu Osas completed his hat-trick in style.
Night Phantom, once again, had shown why they were a force of chaos and brilliance rolled into one.
---
The referee's whistle echoed across the pitch—sharp, final.
The match was over.
On the towering screen above the Darvent Pavilion, the scoreboard lit up in bold digits:
FULL TIME
Night Phantom 4-1 Nixon Pool
Goalscorers:
Momodu Osas (25', 45+3', 83')
West Harry (69')
Lake Cory (54')
The Night Phantom players lifted their arms high, some embracing, others pounding their chests with pride.
The fans in black and silver erupted in chants, flags waving like a storm.
Momodu Osas, the hat-trick hero, stood at the center, his shirt clinging with sweat, the number 7 gleaming under the sun as his teammates rushed to him.
West Harry clasped his shoulder, both men sharing a knowing grin of the chaos they had created which was unstoppable.
Across the pitch, Nixon Pool players slumped to the ground, breaths heavy, expressions carved in defeat.
Their captain Kim Austin stared up at the scoreboard, jaw tight, the weight of the loss pressing down on him.
Molis Harrison watched intently. Not as a fan,but as a strategist.
He knew this was more than a victory display. It was a warning.
Night Phantom had once again shown their teeth.
---
On another field, Shark was training alone. His boots thudded against the ball, strike after strike, angles sharp, net shaking again and again. Sweat clung to his forehead, but he didn't slow.
"Hey—relax."
Deo's voice broke through as he walked over, calm but commanding.
Shark glanced at him, breathing hard. "I can't."
But Deo's persistence wore him down. Eventually, the two sat together at the edge of the pitch, the floodlights above humming.
Shark asked quietly, "What's the plan?"
Deo leaned forward, a sly grin forming.
"Let's create a dangerous playstyle before the match. Just me and you. Something wild,something they won't see coming."
Shark blinked, then laughed in disbelief. "You're serious?"
Deo smirked. "Of course. But if you ask me… we reinforce the defense and strike them on the counter."
Shark's grin widened as he shook his head.
"No. I like your first plan better."
The two shared a laugh, the weight of the challenge ahead settling into an unspoken pact.
---
The day had finally come.
Matchday: Devertary United vs. Night Phantom.
The Darvent Stadium was packed to the brim, not a single seat left unclaimed.
Fans waved banners and flags of both clubs, their chants and songs rising into the air, blending into one thunderous roar.
The sun hung above, its rays spilling across the pitch, warm but not oppressive,perfect football weather.
Inside the Devertary United locker room, Molis Harrison stood at the center, voice steady and commanding.
"Remember," he said, sweeping his gaze across the squad, "don't give them space.
Not a single moment. Pressure them. Break their rhythm. If we win, we win as a unit. If we draw, we do it standing strong."
The players listened intently, nodding, fists clenched with focus.
Then, as the seriousness of the moment thickened, Wolf Deo cracked a sudden joke at Dierckx Matthias' expense.
The room erupted in laughter, the tension cut in half. Even Harrison's lips tugged into the faintest of smiles.
Energy surged through the team,cheers, fist bumps, slaps on the back,as they rose to their feet, united.
Together, they marched out of the locker room, the tunnel looming ahead.
At the very front of the line stood Shark, his shoulders squared, his eyes fixed forward. Yet instinctively, he turned his head.
There, beside him, stood a dark-skinned male with red and grey dreadlocks tied neatly into a ponytail.
His presence was heavy, commanding without a word.
Shark's gaze lowered to the back of the man's shirt.
Number 7.
The name printed bold: MOMODU OSAS.
For a moment, the crowd's chants dulled in Shark's ears. His chest tightened,not in fear, but in anticipation.
The battle him and Momodu Osas the Beastial Striker was about to begin.