The clock hit eighty minutes.
Ten remained.
Ten minutes to save everything.
Or lose it.
Southside pushed forward again.
The energy from Yusuke's goal hadn't disappeared.
If anything, it was growing.
The crowd was louder now.
Every successful pass got cheers.
Every tackle got applause.
Every time Southside entered the attacking third, people stood from their seats.
For the first time all day—
Nocturne looked human.
Yuma received the ball near midfield and immediately drove forward.
A defender stepped up.
Yuma blasted past him.
Not elegantly.
Not skillfully.
Pure force.
"KEEP GOING!" Sora shouted.
Yuma pushed into the final third before slipping a pass inside.
Takumi arrived.
Controlled.
Turned.
Shot.
BLOCKED.
The crowd groaned.
The rebound bounced loose.
Pambara reached it first.
The entire stadium froze.
Because Pambara almost never reached anything first.
He looked up.
Saw Yusuke.
Saw Takumi.
Saw Sora.
Then played the pass immediately.
Simple.
Accurate.
Correct.
The ball reached Yusuke.
The crowd exploded.
Yusuke entered the box.
One defender beaten.
Then another.
For a moment—
it looked possible.
Really possible.
Then Réservoir appeared.
Not rushing.
Not panicking.
Just appearing.
His tackle was clean.
Perfect.
The ball rolled away harmlessly.
Attack over.
The crowd groaned again.
Yusuke slammed his fist into the grass.
"DAMN IT!"
Réservoir looked down at him briefly.
"...Better."
Then walked away.
That annoyed Yusuke more than an insult would've.
Because he meant it.
Southside really was better.
And it still wasn't enough.
The game continued.
Eighty-two minutes.
Eighty-three.
Eighty-four.
Southside kept attacking.
Nocturne kept surviving.
The difference was subtle now.
Earlier in the match, Southside were surviving Nocturne.
Now Nocturne were surviving Southside.
The pressure had flipped.
But only on the surface.
Pambara couldn't shake the feeling.
The feeling that something was wrong.
Every time he looked at Aka—
the striker looked calm.
Too calm.
The score was 3–1.
The momentum belonged to Southside.
The crowd was behind Southside.
Yet Aka looked completely relaxed.
Why?
The answer arrived three minutes later.
Takumi intercepted a pass.
The crowd erupted.
He pushed forward immediately.
Yuma made a run.
Sora made a run.
Yusuke made a run.
Everyone committed.
Everyone attacked.
Because this was the chance.
The chance to make it 3–2.
Takumi threaded a pass forward.
The crowd rose.
Then—
Intercepted.
Theo.
One touch.
Réservoir.
Two touches.
Aka.
Three touches.
The counterattack exploded.
The entire stadium gasped.
Southside had committed everyone forward.
Everyone.
The space behind them looked enormous.
Aka accelerated through midfield.
The grass seemed to disappear beneath him.
Yusuke turned immediately.
Chasing.
Again.
But now his legs were gone.
Completely gone.
The gap grew.
One meter.
Two.
Three.
The crowd's excitement transformed into panic.
"GET BACK!"
Daichi sprinted desperately.
Ren sprinted desperately.
Everyone sprinted desperately.
Not enough.
Aka entered the final third.
Still no smile.
Still focused.
Still terrifying.
Tsubasa stepped off his line.
The goalkeeper knew.
This was probably the match.
One mistake.
One finish.
One moment.
Aka reached shooting range.
The crowd stood.
The stadium held its breath.
Then—
He passed.
Again.
Theo.
Wide open.
The shot came instantly.
BOOM.
Tsubasa dove.
Full stretch.
Everything he had.
The ball flew past his fingertips.
Toward the corner.
Toward 4–1.
Toward the end.
Then—
POST.
CLANG.
The entire stadium exploded.
The rebound flew away harmlessly.
No goal.
Still 3–1.
Southside survived.
Again.
Theo stood frozen.
Aka looked mildly annoyed.
Réservoir sighed.
The crowd lost their minds.
And for the first time all match—
Nocturne looked surprised.
Just slightly.
Because somehow—
Southside was still alive.
Barely.
But alive.
The clock continued ticking.
Eighty-six minutes.
Four minutes remained.
And nobody knew whether Southside's hope was growing—
Or simply being stretched out before it finally snapped.