3–0.
The scoreboard glowed above the stadium like a death sentence.
Southside stood frozen across the field.
Nobody moved immediately.
Nobody spoke.
Because what was there left to say?
The crowd noise blurred together into a dull roar as Aka slowly turned away from the goal.
No celebration.
No screaming.
No dramatic reaction.
Just calm breathing.
Like this was expected.
That hurt the most.
Tsubasa remained on the ground for several seconds after the goal.
One arm stretched toward the corner he failed to reach.
His fingertips twitched slightly against the grass.
So close.
Again.
Then he slammed his fist into the turf.
"...DAMN IT!"
The frustration echoed louder than the crowd itself.
Daichi stood near the box staring blankly ahead.
Ren bent over with his hands on his knees.
Kaito kicked the ground violently.
Nobody looked at each other.
Because everyone knew what they'd see.
Fear.
Yusuke slowly walked back toward midfield.
His breathing was rough now.
Heavy.
Unsteady.
He'd chased Aka all match.
Forced him serious.
Pushed him harder than anyone else had.
And it still wasn't enough.
As he passed Aka near the center circle, the two locked eyes briefly.
Aka tilted his head slightly.
"...You're slowing down."
Yusuke clenched his jaw.
"...Shut up."
Aka stared at him for another second.
Then walked away.
No mockery.
No laughter.
That somehow made it worse.
Kickoff restarted.
The match continued.
But the energy had changed completely now.
Nocturne looked sharper.
Looser.
More confident.
Meanwhile Southside moved like a team carrying chains.
Hiroto tried forcing control again.
"Calm down! One goal at a time!"
But nobody truly believed anymore.
Not fully.
Takumi received a pass near the wing and tried accelerating forward.
Theo stripped him cleanly.
Yuma chased a loose ball too aggressively and fouled Noah near midfield.
Sora attempted forcing a dribble through traffic.
Lost possession instantly.
Everything was breaking apart.
Not dramatically.
Quietly.
The dangerous kind of collapse.
Réservoir noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
"...Now they're dead."
The words were soft.
Matter-of-fact.
Marc glanced toward him briefly.
"...Game's over?"
Réservoir looked toward Southside calmly.
"...Not yet."
A pause.
"...But they're starting to accept losing."
That was the real defeat.
Not the scoreboard.
Not the goals.
Acceptance.
The crowd continued roaring every time Nocturne touched the ball now.
Momentum had completely shifted.
Pambara tried speaking again.
Trying to organize.
Trying to help.
"Ren, left side!"
Too late.
"Theo's cutting in!"
Too late again.
His mind couldn't keep up anymore.
Aka was right.
He'd stopped knowing.
Now he was guessing.
And against Nocturne—
guessing meant death.
Another attack surged forward.
Réservoir controlled possession near midfield again.
Completely relaxed.
Then suddenly—
he flicked the ball forward without looking.
Aka moved instantly.
The crowd erupted again.
Yusuke chased.
Again.
Even exhausted—
he still chased.
Aka glanced backward slightly.
"...Why?"
Yusuke didn't answer.
Because he didn't fully know anymore.
Pride?
Anger?
Desperation?
Maybe all of it.
The attack continued.
Fast.
Violent.
Aka entered the final third.
Daichi stepped up.
Ren collapsed inward.
Aka slipped between them anyway.
The crowd screamed.
Tsubasa rushed forward again.
Then—
WHISTLE.
Offside.
The stadium groaned loudly.
Aka stopped moving immediately.
No complaint.
No frustration.
Just acceptance.
Yusuke bent over breathing heavily near midfield.
Sweat dripped from his face onto the grass below.
His legs were starting to shake.
Not from fear.
From exhaustion.
Aka noticed.
"...You're reaching your limit."
Yusuke slowly looked up.
"...Then hurry up and finish me."
For the first time all match—
Aka looked surprised.
Only slightly.
Then he smiled again.
"...Okay."
The whistle blew.
Play resumed.
And suddenly—
Yusuke realized something terrifying.
Aka hadn't been trying to crush them yet.
Not completely.
Until now.