Silas roared the order.
And Riverside Prep surged.
Only one player stood ahead of the line—Riverside's lone striker.
Silas didn't hesitate. A direct, slicing pass.
Then he was off—sprinting like a bullet, dragging shadows in his wake.
Their right and left wingers exploded forward too. They knew their striker couldn't finish alone. But it didn't matter.
The wave had already begun.
Tariq locked onto the striker like a heat-seeking missile, bodying up as both tore across the grass.
The striker received the ball, tried to brake and pivot—face to face with Tariq now.
He glanced left. No help. Glanced right. Still no help.
And in that split-second of hesitation—
Tariq lunged.
A clean tackle—sharp, powerful. The ball popped loose, spinning across the pitch. The striker staggered back, off balance.
Julian rose from the midfield, but he wasn't close.
Silas was.
Before the ball could roll out of bounds, Silas flew in from behind—scooped it back under control—and kept running.
