The roar of the Copper Crucible was a living entity, a twenty-thousand-throated beast that screamed its anticipation. The sound was cleaner, sharper than in the Iron Anvil, the crowd's avatars more detailed, their reactions more nuanced. Kairo stood at the center circle, the pristine white ball at his feet, and took a single, deep breath. The scent of virtual grass, the weight of the new jersey, the glare of the stadium lights—it all felt hyper-real. This was the big leagues.
Across from him, the Avalanche captain, a mountain of a player named Rorke with a shaved head and a permanent scowl, cracked his neck. His eyes held not the cold calculation of Ryu or the flashy arrogance of Kaito, but a simple, predatory promise of violence.
The referee's whistle pierced the din.
The first five minutes were a shock to the system. Aethelgard's carefully laid plans met the raw, unadulterated force of the Avalanche. Kairo passed the ball back to Daichi, intending to settle into their possession rhythm. Before Daichi could even control it, an Avalanche midfielder—a blur of red and black—slammed into him, winning the ball cleanly through sheer, brutal force. It was a statement: There is no time here.
The ball was launched out to the right wing, where their winger, a player with the "Bullet Cross" ability, took one touch and fired a screaming, low cross into the box. It was their signature move, executed with terrifying efficiency. Jiro, a step slow, could only watch as the Avalanche striker, a powerhouse named Gunnar, rose between Daichi and Yumi. He connected with a thunderous header that sent the ball like a cannon shot towards the net.
It was a goal. It had to be.
But Kenji, positioned perfectly, reacted not with a desperate dive, but with a calculated, powerful two-fisted punch, parrying the ball up and over the crossbar. The impact echoed through the goalposts. The crowd gasped, then erupted in applause for the save.
Kenji landed, shook out his stinging hands, and roared, "SHAPE! HOLD THE SHAPE!"
The save was a bucket of cold water. The plan was sound; their execution had just been a fraction too slow. The Avalanche's physicality wasn't a surprise, but experiencing it was different from studying it.
From the resulting corner, the Avalanche's set-piece routine unfolded exactly as Coach Silas had drilled them. Two players made decoy runs to the near post, pulling defenders. The cross, however, was aimed for the far post, where Rorke, the captain, lay in wait.
But Aethelgard was ready. Jiro, remembering the "Unyielding" trait trigger, didn't follow the decoy. He held his ground, planted himself in front of Rorke, and with a mighty leap, won the header, clearing the ball powerfully out of the box.
It was their first real victory. Small, defensive, but a victory nonetheless.
The game settled into a brutal, physical rhythm. The Avalanche dominated possession, not through intricate passing, but by winning every second ball, every 50/50 challenge. They pressed high, their tackles just on the right side of legal, a constant, physical intimidation. Aethelgard was forced into a defensive shell, their "Tempo Dictation" useless as they rarely held the ball for more than three passes.
Kairo felt the frustration building. He dropped deeper and deeper, trying to find space to receive the ball, but he was constantly harried, his touches rushed. The "Void's Grasp" of the previous final had been a subtle debuff; this was a sledgehammer. He saw openings, passing lanes that should have been there, but they were closed down before he could even lift his head.
In the 25th minute, the pressure told. Taro, trying to dribble out of trouble on the right wing, was dispossessed by a brutal, yet fair, shoulder charge. The ball was played inside to Gunnar, who held off Daichi with embarrassing ease, turned, and fired a shot from twenty-five yards. It took a wicked deflection off Jiro's outstretched leg, wrong-footing Kenji completely and nestling into the bottom corner of the net.
0 - 1.
The Avalanche players celebrated with primal roars, pounding their chests. Rorke pointed at his defenders, a gesture that clearly activated his "Unyielding" trait. A faint, visible aura of resolve seemed to settle over their backline. Breaking them down now would be even harder.
The goal felt inevitable, a force of nature. On the sideline, Coach Silas remained calm, making a subtle hand gesture to Kairo: Stick to the plan.
The restart was a test of character. The crowd's energy dipped. The Avalanche smelled blood. For the next ten minutes, Aethelgard was camped in their own half, a blue-and-white dam threatening to burst. They blocked shots, threw their bodies in the way, and relied on Kenji's safe hands. It was pure, desperate survival.
But slowly, painstakingly, they began to adapt. Kairo's Player-Coach proficiency allowed him to see the small adjustments they needed to make. He started playing one-touch passes before the tackle arrived. He instructed Yumi and Taro to stop trying to take on their markers and instead play early, first-time crosses into the box, aiming for the space behind the aggressive Avalanche full-backs.
In the 38th minute, they fashioned their first real chance. Daichi intercepted a lazy pass in midfield and immediately looked for Kairo. Instead of turning, Kairo, with his back to goal, let the ball run across his body, evading his marker in one fluid motion. It was a tiny moment of space, but it was all he needed.
His
He didn't have the time or space to bend a pass. So, he stabbed at the ball with the outside of his boot, a disguised, poke-pass that was more instinct than thought. The ball zipped through the impossible gap, perfectly weighted onto Ren's stride.
Ren was through. One-on-one with the keeper. The stadium held its breath.
The Avalanche goalkeeper, a veteran, didn't commit. He stood tall, making himself big. Ren, perhaps surprised by the quality of the pass or feeling the weight of the moment, tried to place his shot. But the keeper read his eyes, diving to his right and getting a strong hand to the ball, parrying it away for a corner.
A collective groan echoed through the Crucible. It was their chance. The golden opportunity to equalize, squandered.
As they walked back for the corner, Ren looked devastated. "I'm sorry, Kairo. I should have buried that."
Kairo clapped him on the back. "You got the chance. That's what matters. The next one comes, you put your foot through it. No more thinking."
The corner came to nothing, cleared easily by the now-impregnable Avalanche defense.
As the half wore down, the physical toll was evident. Aethelgard players were breathing heavily, their stamina bars dipping into the yellow. The Avalanche, built for this kind of war, looked fresh.
In the first minute of added time, disaster nearly struck again. A long, hopeful ball was launched towards Gunnar. Jiro rose to challenge him, but the striker used his strength to subtly, illegally, hold Jiro down, winning the header. It looped towards the back post, where an unmarked Avalanche midfielder volleyed it goalward. It was a certain goal.
But Kenji, once again, was a marvel of anticipation and reflexes. He launched himself horizontally, a full-stretch dive that seemed to defy the geometry of the goal, and fingertipped the blistering volley onto the post. The ball ricocheted back into play, where a panicking Daichi hacked it clear.
The halftime whistle blew, a merciful sound.
The walk to the locker room was heavy with silence and the ache of exertion. They were losing 0-1, but it felt like a minor miracle they weren't down by three. They had been outmuscled, outplayed for long stretches, and had missed their one clear chance.
The home locker room was tense. The initial confidence had been stripped away, replaced by the cold reality of the Copper League. They had built a kingdom, but the Avalanche was doing its best to bury it under an actual avalanche of force.
Coach Silas waited for them all to gather, his expression unreadable. He didn't yell. He didn't give a fiery speech.
"You have just endured the worst they have to offer," he said, his voice calm and measured. "And you are only down by one goal. You absorbed their pressure. You adapted. You created a chance that, on another day, is a goal. Jiro, you neutralized their set-pieces. Kenji, you were magnificent."
He paused, letting the words sink in, rebuilding their shattered confidence brick by brick.
"Now," he continued, a glint in his eye. "They believe their own hype. They believe they have broken you. They will expect you to come out fearful, to defend deeper. So, we will give them the opposite."
He walked to the tactical board. "We are shifting. Slightly. To a 4-2-3-1. Daichi, you will hold. Kairo, I am moving you to a central attacking role, just behind Ren. Your instruction is simple: find the space between their midfield and defense. That is where they are vulnerable. They are strong, but they are not agile. Make them turn."
He looked at the entire team. "The first half was about survival. The second half is about ambition. You have felt their power. Now, show them your intelligence. Show them your heart. This is not their victory yet. It is our opportunity."
Kairo looked around the room. He saw the fire rekindling in Taro's eyes, the determination hardening on Jiro's face. They had taken the first, hardest punch of the Copper League. They were still standing.
The first half was over. The real battle was about to begin.