Julian saw the ball arcing through the air.
And beyond it—Leo's face.
That same expression.
The one he'd seen a hundred times in his past life on the battlefield. The same trust. The same unwavering belief that he would deliver.
Once, that kind of belief meant everything to Julian. It was rare. Precious.
But it also betrayed him.
When he needed them most—his comrades, his family—they abandoned him.
Not this time.
Not in this life.
Not in this mission.
Julian's eyes sharpened like a blade unsheathed
[Activating Rule The Pitch – Lv.1: +7 to All Attributes]
Power surged through his limbs, flooding his veins with fire and speed.
[Martial Memory – Active Mode: 5 Seconds]
His mind flipped open like a book, combing through the ocean of techniques sealed in his soul.
And then—it surfaced.
Thunder Step.
He breathed in—deep.
The air around him sharpened.
The world slowed.
This technique was born from breath.
Each inhale synced to a step.
Each step struck the earth harder—sharper—faster.
The rhythm built like a war drum in his chest.
Then moved.
Step.
Boom.
Step.
Boom.
Until finally—
The pitch trembled with thunder.
He saw the ball arcing through the sky.
And he moved.
A blur.
He overtook one defender—then another.
Gasps echoed from the sideline.
Coach Owens looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his head.
Even Crest, normally composed as ever, tensed like she'd just seen a myth walk out of a storybook.
"What the hell…" someone muttered.
And the ball—still falling from Leo's pass—landed just ahead.
El Monte's goalkeeper—tall, aggressive—charged out of the box, eyes locked on the ball, ready to clear it.
Too late.
Julian was already there.
His cleats kissed the turf a second before the keeper could react.
He didn't dribble.
He didn't slow.
He just ran.
The ball bounced with him—awkward, chaotic, but his.
His expression twisted—not focus, not pride… but panic.
He couldn't stop.
The momentum was too strong.
He stumbled forward, ball still stuck to his feet like fate itself demanded it.
And just like that—he crashed straight into the net.
Not with a curve. Not with a feint.
Just sheer velocity.
He crashed into the goal with the ball and nearly into the net itself, catching himself on the post with a grunt.
2 – 1.
A moment of silence.
Then—
"What the hell did I just see?!" Leo burst out laughing, collapsing to the grass.
Cael muttered from the sideline, "That was dumb… but it worked."
Even Riku chuckled—Riku of all people.
And on the sidelines?
Even some of the El Monte players couldn't help but laugh.
Crest brought a hand to her mouth, eyes wide in disbelief.
Coach Owens?
He dragged a palm down his face like he'd just witnessed divine nonsense.
"...That shouldn't have worked," he muttered. "But it did."
Julian picked himself up, his chest rising and falling like bellows.
His legs trembled beneath him—burning, worn, screaming.
But his eyes?
Sharper than ever.
…
[58:26]
The referee's whistle blew again.
El Monte restarted, Lucas Ortega tapping the ball sideways to his midfield.
They surged forward like a tide. Their double pivots held the center tightly, while the wingers flared wide, stretching Lincoln's defense across the grass like a canvas.
Julian didn't press hard—not yet.
"Absorb the pressure. Punish them on the break."
Coach Owens' voice echoed in his mind.
So he waited.
Tracked.
Baited.
But El Monte was sharp. Lucas dropped deep, bounced a pass off his teammate, and slipped through a tight lane—too quick.
[60:10]
Lucas danced between two Lincoln midfielders, rolled the ball to his right, and let loose a low shot.
Boom!
Cael dived full-stretch.
Deflected.
But not far.
The rebound landed near El Monte's secondary striker—who lunged forward for the finish—
SLAM!
Riku Tanaka slid in like a missile.
Blocked.
"Let's go!" Cael roared, springing to his feet.
[64:52]
Lincoln countered.
Leo danced through midfield, the ball glued to his foot. He drew defenders in, waited for the moment—
There.
Julian slipped behind his marker.
Leo's pass carved through the line like a scalpel.
Julian raced toward it. One touch—he turned—
Too late.
Dominic Reyes slammed into position, hip-checking Julian off-balance just long enough to kill the play.
Julian stumbled, cursed under his breath, but nodded. Alright. Learn. Next time.
[70:15]
El Monte came again—quick one-touch combinations on the left. Their winger curled in a cross from deep.
Lucas rose.
Header—CLANG!
Off the crossbar!
The ball bounced wildly—Cael adjusted in mid-air, leapt sideways—punched it clear just before a rebound could be taken.
Another save.
The stands gasped.
[74:30]
Julian cut off a lazy back pass.
One touch, two—he bolted straight at the center backs.
Dominic again. Always Dominic.
Julian feinted left, chopped right—
[Rule The Pitch – Lv.1: +5 To All Attributes]
Still not enough.
Dominic swept the ball clean with a calm tackle and jogged away like it was nothing.
Julian exhaled hard.
Too raw. Too direct. He needed more.
[80:12]
"Julian! Space, not speed!" Coach Owens shouted from the touchline.
Julian slowed.
Shifted.
He stopped playing like a weapon and started playing like bait.
He drifted between zones, dragging defenders out with subtle positioning.
Felix saw it.
So did Leo.
[83:09]
Felix Moreno received the ball on the right wing and spotted Julian hovering between two defenders.
Cross incoming.
Julian launched himself—
Header!
But too high.
He landed hard, shoulders stinging.
Crest winced from the sideline. "Idiot… be careful."
[86:00]
Lucas got another shot from the edge of the box.
Lasered it—
Cael blocked it with both hands.
The rebound spilled out again—
But this time, Tariq cleared it into orbit.
[90:00 +3 minutes extra time]
El Monte threw everyone forward.
Even Dominic pushed up into the box.
A corner.
Tension thickened in the air.
Coach Owens yelled orders. Crest stood stiff at the edge of the bench.
The corner curled in—chaotic.
Bodies collided.
The ball pinged off a head, then a knee—Lucas twisted, tried a backheel finish—
WHUMP!
Cael caught it.
Chest to ball. Solid.
He held it.
The ref raised the whistle.
PRRRRT!
FULL TIME.
Lincoln High 2 – 1 El Monte High
…
Cheers erupted.
Tyrell tackled Leo in celebration.
Felix and Ricky shouted like lunatics.
Cael dropped to the turf, pumping both fists.
Julian?
He just stood there, staring at the scoreboard.
Chest still rising.
Body still burning.