Jiro' collapse was a silent disaster that screamed louder than any goal. The red INJURY icon pulsed above him, a grotesque beacon of their crumbling fortune. The Avalanche, smelling blood in the water, descended with renewed, desperate fury. The equilibrium of the match shattered, replaced by a frantic, chaotic scramble.
Coach Silas's voice was a calm, sharp command through the team's comms. "5-3-1. Park the bus. Everyone behind the ball. They have no finesse, only force. Become a wall."
The instruction was simple, the execution a nightmare. They shifted into a desperate, ultra-defensive formation. Daichi dropped into the backline to form a back three with the hobbling Jiro and Yumi. Taro and Sora became makeshift wing-backs, their attacking instincts wholly suppressed. Kairo was the lone, isolated figure ahead of them, a token presence for a counter-attack that would never come. Ren was subbed off for an extra defender.
The final minutes were a blur of pure, unadulterated pressure. The Avalanche launched cross after cross into the box, aiming for the immobile Jiro. Daichi and Yumi became twin titans, throwing their bodies in front of everything, their clearances more desperate lunges than controlled passes. The ball was a pinball in Aethelgard's penalty area, and every bounce felt like it could be the final, cruel twist.
Kairo, stranded upfield, felt a profound helplessness. His
In the 89th minute, a cross swung in. Gunnar rose, unmarked, his power header aimed for the top corner. Kenji, a study in focused agony, launched himself backwards, fingertips straining, and somehow pushed it onto the crossbar. The ball bounced down onto the goal line, a moment of heart-stopping suspension, before Daichi, with a guttural roar, hacked it clear.
The reprieve was momentary. The Avalanche recycled possession, their attacks growing more frantic, more physical. Fouls were ignored, advantage played. It was a storm, and Aethelgard was the levee.
The fourth official held up the board. +4 Minutes.
Four minutes in hell.
Jiro, his face a mask of pain, was now more a spectator than a participant, a ghost in the machine of his own body. He could only shuffle, using his voice as his only weapon. "LEFT! LEFT! HE'S COMING LEFT! DAICHI, COVER!"
In the 92nd minute, the inevitable nearly happened. A low drive from the edge of the box took a wicked deflection off Taro's outstretched leg, wrong-footing Kenji completely. The ball trickled, in agonizing slow motion, towards the open net.
It was going in.
But Sora, the quiet, unassuming left-back, appeared from nowhere, sliding across the goalmouth in a last-ditch, desperate clearance, hooking the ball off the line with the very tip of his boot before crashing into the post. The impact was sickening, but the ball was safe.
The stadium, which had held its breath, released a collective, shuddering gasp. Sora lay still for a second before pushing himself up, his health bar now also flashing a concerning yellow.
There were sixty seconds left. The Avalanche won a corner. Their goalkeeper lumbered up, adding another massive body to the chaos in the box.
Kairo joined the defense, his slight frame looking insignificant against the wall of red and black giants. The air was thick with tension, the roar of the crowd a distant hum. He found himself standing next to Jiro.
"Just one more, Jiro," Kairo said, his voice raw. "One more clearance."
Jiro, sweating and pale, just grunted, his eyes fixed on the ball. "I'll die on this line before I let them through."
The corner was swung in. It was a perfect, in-swinging delivery, aimed for the mass of players at the near post. Bodies flew. The Avalanche goalkeeper rose, a colossal figure, and got a clean, powerful header on the ball. It flew towards the goal, a certain, game-winning header.
But Kenji had read it. He hadn't committed to the initial cross. He held his ground, and as the goalkeeper's header flashed towards him, he reacted not with a dive, but with a cat-like, instinctual raise of his hands, palming the ball up and over the bar. It was a save of pure, unadulterated reflex, a moment of genius born from exhaustion and will.
The referee's whistle blew. Once. Twice. Three times.
FULL TIME.
Aethelgard FC 1 - 1 Avalanche FC.
For a moment, there was absolute silence on the pitch, broken only by the sound of eleven Aethelgard players collapsing where they stood. There were no cheers, no celebrations. There was only the profound, bone-deep relief of survival.
They had done it. They had taken the Avalanche's best shot, conceded, fought back, and then withstood an apocalyptic final assault with their best defender crippled. They had earned their first point in the Copper League.
Slowly, the reality sank in, and the applause began. It wasn't the explosive roar for a winner, but a sustained, respectful ovation from the home crowd. They had witnessed something more valuable than a flashy victory: they had witnessed heart.
Kairo lay on his back, staring at the digital sky, his chest heaving. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Daichi offering a hand to pull him up. Daichi's face was grimy, his kit torn, but his eyes held a new, hardened respect.
"We survived," Daichi said simply.
"We did more than survive," Kairo replied, getting to his feet. "We learned."
They gathered their injured. Jiro was being supported by Anya, the physio, already administering a heavy dose of nanites. Sora was limping. Everyone else was just… tired.
As they began the slow, painful walk towards the tunnel, Kairo saw Coach Silas waiting for them. He wasn't smiling, but his expression was one of deep approval.
"A point," Silas said as they drew near. "One point on the board. But you earned more than that today. You earned the knowledge that you can withstand anything this league throws at you. You earned your place."
In the locker room, the atmosphere was a strange mix of exhaustion and quiet triumph. The initial financial reports came in from Taro.
[Match Result: Draw]
[League Points: +1]
[Prize Money: +750 Credits]
[Sponsorship Performance Bonus (Phantom Step): +250 Credits]
Total Influx: 1,000 Credits.
It wasn't the windfall of the Gauntlet, but it was steady, sustainable income. It would cover a significant portion of their monthly overhead. They were a functioning business.
But the cost was clear. Jiro's injury report was severe: Hamstring Tear. Estimated Recovery Time: 7-10 Days. Will miss next 2 matches.
It was a devastating blow. Their defensive rock, the anchor of their backline, was gone for their upcoming away match against the high-pressing Vermilion Dragoons.
As the team began the log-out process, Kairo received a private message. It was from Ryunosuke Takeda.
Ryu: A statistically improbable result given the xG (expected Goals) data. Your resilience variable is higher than projected. However, your dependency on a single defensive linchpin has been exposed. The Vermilion Dragoons will exploit this. Your adaptation will be… informative.
The message was, as always, coldly analytical. But for the first time, Kairo didn't see it as a threat. He saw it as a problem to be solved. They had built a kingdom, and today, they had defended its walls. Now, they had to repair them and prepare for the next assault. The Copper League had begun.