2 – 2.
The scoreboard glared in frozen numbers, but for Julian, the tie wasn't balance—it was weight.
His body screamed, every muscle straining from the furnace he had ignited. The system's warning still echoed in the back of his mind.
But he couldn't stop. Not now.
He was the symbol of hope burning at the center of Lincoln's storm.
"Please… just one more," he whispered, breath fogging in the night air.
A shadow fell over him. Leo's golden eyes narrowed with concern.
"You okay?"
Julian forced a smirk, chest heaving. "Yes. Let's win this game."
Leo gripped his shoulder hard, steady and firm. "Then stay with us until the end. Don't you dare fall before the whistle."
Julian nodded. The promise sealed between them in silence.
...
The ball rolled back to the center. Kick-off once again—Crenshaw's chance to answer.
But their swagger was cracked.
Faces twisted, confidence leaking away. The Ross twins looked at each other, urgency burning in their eyes.
