Ethan stared across the pitch at his best friend, a slow grin spreading across his face.
Leo's immediate, all-or-nothing tactical switch wasn't just a move in a game; it was pure Leo. Impulsive, aggressive, and ridiculously bold. This wasn't a chess match anymore; Leo had just flipped the board over and declared a wrestling match.
"He's lost his mind," Kenny McLean muttered beside Grant Hanley as they watched the Orion FC players rearrange themselves.
"Two in midfield against our three? We'll pass them to death."
"Don't be so sure," Hanley grunted, his eyes narrowed.
"Look at their front four. They're not trying to win the midfield battle. They're trying to bypass it completely. This is going to get messy."
"I am absolutely stunned!" the commentator's voice crackled with excitement. "LeoTheHunter has responded to going a goal down by throwing tactics to the wind! It's a 4-2-4! A formation rarely seen since the 1960s! He's leaving his two central midfielders on an island, betting everything on overwhelming the Apex defense with sheer numbers!"
The game restarted, and the effect was instantaneous. The match transformed from a cautious, tactical affair into a frantic, end-to-end slugfest.
Orion's four forwards pressed the Apex backline with manic intensity, forcing long, hopeful clearances. But when Apex did manage to bypass that first wave, they found acres of space in the midfield.
In the 35th minute, Kenny McLean intercepted a pass and found himself with time.
"Emre, drop!" he yelled. Emre Demir, understanding immediately, drifted into the huge hole in the center of the pitch. McLean fizzed a pass into his feet. Emre took one touch, turned, and was suddenly running at the heart of the Orion defense.
The S-Rank defender, Matias Gallardo, was a rock, but he was now horribly exposed. He was forced to come out and meet Emre, leaving Viktor Kristensen one-on-one with the other center-back.
Emre slipped a perfect pass to his Danish partner. Viktor shot early, but the Orion keeper made a smart save with his legs.
"Keep finding that space!" Ethan yelled from the sideline, clapping his hands. "It's there all day!"
Leo, on the other hand, was orchestrating his chaos. "Direct! Go direct!" he screamed. "Don't let them play!"
In the 42nd minute, his strategy paid off. A long, hopeful ball from the Orion goalkeeper was flicked on by one of his strikers.
The second striker latched onto it, getting behind the Apex defense. His shot was saved brilliantly by Angus Gunn, but the rebound fell kindly to an Orion midfielder who had gambled on a forward run. He smashed the ball into the open net.
1-1.
Leo pumped his fists, roaring with delight. His insane gamble had worked.
The half-time whistle blew. In the Apex dressing room, the mood was frustrated.
"They're not even playing football!" Josh Sargent complained. "They're just hoofing it long!"
"And it's working," Hanley countered grimly. "We're letting them turn it into a scrap."
Ethan stepped into the middle of the room.
"He's right. They want chaos. So, we're going to give them the opposite. We're going to be calm. We have a three-to-two advantage in the middle of the park, and we are going to use it. Kenny, Jacob, you two are the key. Get on the ball, keep it, make them run. We will suffocate them with possession. The chances will come. Don't fall into their trap."
The second half was a masterclass in game management. Apex controlled the tempo, their midfield trio passing the ball in triangles, frustrating the four Orion forwards who chased shadows.
In the 63rd minute, the pressure told. After a long spell of possession, a tired Orion midfielder made a lazy challenge on Emre. Free-kick, twenty-five yards out.
David Kerrigan immediately grabbed the ball. "This one's mine."
Emre raised an eyebrow. "I thought I was on free-kicks?"
"You got your goal. Let the artist paint," Kerrigan said with a wink.
Ethan just smiled and let it happen. Kerrigan placed the ball down, took three steps back, and whipped a vicious, curling shot over the wall. It cannoned off the crossbar, bounced down, and was bundled over the line by a grateful Josh Sargent from two yards out.
2-1 to Apex!
Sargent roared, pointing at Kerrigan, who just shrugged as if to say, "I meant to do that."
The game continued in the same vein. Apex controlled the ball, creating chances, while Orion looked increasingly ragged.
In the 81st minute, Apex sealed what looked like a certain victory. Emre Demir, finding space once again, played a reverse pass to Viktor, who had made a clever run.
Viktor took one touch and unselfishly squared the ball across the face of goal, giving David Kerrigan a simple tap-in for his debut goal.
3-1.
Kerrigan celebrated with a wild knee-slide, soaking up the adoration of the home crowd.
It seemed over. Leo stood in his dugout, hands on his hips, looking beaten.
But in football, especially in a derby, it's never over.
In the 88th minute, with Apex casually passing the ball around, a moment of complacency crept in. A loose pass was intercepted. Orion launched one last, desperate counter-attack. A long ball found their winger, who sent a hopeful cross into the box.
The ball deflected off Hanley's head, looping high into the air. Angus Gunn came to claim it but collided with his own defender. The ball dropped loose in the six-yard box, and an Orion striker stabbed it home.
3-2. A sloppy, freak goal.
"Well, hello!" the commentator exclaimed.
"Out of absolutely nowhere, Orion FC have a lifeline! A calamitous defensive mix-up, and suddenly, we have a grandstand finish on our hands!"
The goal sent a jolt of belief through the Orion players and a wave of panic through the Apex ranks. Leo was screaming at his team to get forward for one last push.
In the 92nd minute, the final minute of stoppage time, Orion won a corner. It was their last chance. Leo waved his entire team forward, including his goalkeeper.
"Everyone back! Mark your men!" Hanley screamed, organizing his defense for the final onslaught.
The corner was swung in, high and looping. Gunn came out, punching the ball weakly. It fell to an Orion player on the edge of the box, who fired a wild shot back towards goal. The shot was going wide, but it struck an Apex defender and deflected out for another corner.
The clock showed 93:00. This was it.
The last kick of the game.
The Orion players packed the box. The corner taker sent another ball into the mixer, this one flat and hard. It was chaos. Bodies were flying everywhere.
The ball was headed clear, but only to the edge of the area.
An Orion midfielder met it with a thunderous volley. The shot was destined for the net, a certain equalizer, but it struck Grant Hanley square in the face. The captain collapsed in a heap, the ball ricocheting high into the air once more.
As the ball began its descent back into the crowded penalty area, one player rose above everyone else. It wasn't a striker. It wasn't a midfielder.
It was the S-Rank defender, Matias Gallardo.
He had stayed up from the previous corner, a towering, black and gold beacon of hope for his team. He leaped, his timing perfect, his neck muscles straining. He met the ball with the full force of his forehead, powering it down towards the goal.
Gunn, still recovering from the previous chaos, scrambled across his line but it was too late. The ball smashed into the back of the net.
3-3.
The whistle blew for full-time the second the ball hit the net.
The Orion players exploded, mobbing their defender, their hero. Leo sprinted onto the pitch, sliding on his knees in a wild celebration.
Ethan stood perfectly still in his technical area, watching his best friend celebrate a draw like it was a World Cup victory. He wasn't angry. He wasn't even disappointed. He was utterly, completely dumbfounded.
A private notification appeared in his vision, a message from the game itself, summarizing the absurdity of what he had just witnessed.
[MATCH DRAWN]
[RIVALRY INTENSITY with 'LeoTheHunter' has increased to: HEATED]
[SECRET OBJECTIVE DISCOVERED: The 'Derby Day' modifier grants teams with lower morale a significant late-game boost to 'Determination' and 'Luck'.]
Ethan just stared at the notification, a slow, disbelieving smile spreading across his face. The game had a 'luck' stat. And his best friend had just used all of it.