The away dressing room at Cardiff City Stadium, already tense, was thrown into a state of quiet chaos.
James Pearce, a model of AI efficiency, simply nodded and relayed the instruction.
Josh Sargent, who had been mentally preparing to lead the line, looked utterly bewildered.
David Kerrigan, who had been expecting a comfortable spot on the bench, looked like he'd just been told he'd won the lottery.
"Gaffer, a word?" Grant Hanley said, pulling Ethan aside as the other players started their final preparations. "Sargent is our hold-up man. He's physical. Kerrigan is… well, he's Kerrigan. Are you sure about this? Against a team like Cardiff?"
"I'm sure," Ethan said, his voice low but firm. "My intel says their manager plays a high line in the cup. He's going to underestimate our pace. I don't need a hold-up man; I need a missile. I need someone who will run in behind them all night long."
