The corner curled toward the penalty spot.
Bodies collided instantly.
Yuma launched himself into the air, arms tucked against his sides as Marc Pelletier rose beside him. Behind them, Daichi and Jules Caron crashed together, neither willing to surrender an inch of space.
The ball sailed over the first challenge.
Then dropped.
Chaos.
No one controlled it.
It ricocheted off a shoulder.
A thigh.
Then bounced awkwardly toward the edge of the box.
Takumi reacted first.
He met it on the half-volley.
BOOM.
The strike screamed through a crowd of players.
Adrien threw himself across goal.
Fingertips.
Just enough.
The ball slammed against the crossbar.
CLANG.
The entire stadium gasped.
The rebound shot almost straight upward before dropping back into the six-yard box.
Again.
Chaos.
Yuma swung wildly.
Missed.
Marc tried clearing.
The ball struck Yuma's leg instead.
It bounced sideways.
Straight toward Pambara.
For a split second, time stopped.
The crowd held its breath.
Pambara stood only a few metres from goal.
No defender directly in front of him.
No goalkeeper in position.
The entire net looked open.
His heart pounded.
"Shoot."
The thought screamed inside his head.
Then another thought followed.
"Don't panic."
He looked up.
Just once.
Yusuke.
Completely unmarked.
Back post.
Pambara didn't hesitate.
Instead of shooting, he stabbed the ball across the face of goal.
Fast.
Low.
Perfect.
Yusuke reacted instantly.
Sliding with everything he had left.
His right foot stretched toward the ball.
Contact.
The net exploded.
GOAL!
The stadium erupted.
People jumped out of their seats.
Flags flew through the air.
The roar shook the entire ground.
Yusuke slid across the grass, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"YES!"
Yuma tackled him into the ground laughing.
"YOU DID IT!"
Takumi arrived next.
Then Hiroto.
Then Ren.
Even Daichi sprinted the length of the field.
For the first time all tournament—
Southside completely lost themselves in celebration.
The scoreboard flickered.
3–3.
The impossible had happened.
They'd erased a three-goal deficit.
The crowd chanted Southside's name over and over until it echoed around the entire stadium.
Meanwhile, Nocturne stood frozen.
Theo stared at the scoreboard.
"...Three-three?"
Marc placed his hands on his hips.
"...How..."
Lucien didn't even finish his sentence.
Across the field, Réservoir watched Southside celebrating together.
His expression remained calm.
But his eyes had changed.
"They've done it."
Theo looked at him.
"What now?"
Réservoir slowly turned toward Aka.
"Now..."
"...you stop playing with them."
Silence.
Aka stood near the centre circle.
Looking at the celebrating players.
Looking at Yusuke.
Looking at Pambara.
The smile slowly disappeared from his face.
Completely.
When he finally spoke—
his voice was quieter than ever.
"...Enough."
He rolled the ball beneath his foot once.
Then looked toward the referee.
The celebrations finally ended.
Southside slowly returned to their own half, still smiling, still breathing heavily, still feeding off the unbelievable comeback.
Pambara lagged behind everyone else.
Yusuke stopped beside him.
"...That pass."
Pambara scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
"...You were open."
Yusuke laughed.
"...Yeah."
He held out his fist.
Pambara stared at it for a second.
Then smiled.
And bumped it.
The referee blew the whistle.
The match restarted.
Nocturne kicked off.
Not a single player spoke.
Not Theo.
Not Marc.
Not Lucien.
Not even Réservoir.
Only Aka moved.
He received the first pass.
Stopped the ball beneath his foot.
And looked straight at Southside.
His expression held no amusement anymore.
No curiosity.
No respect.
Only determination.
For the first time since kickoff—
Southside had awakened the real Aka.
To Be Continued.