The locker room door shut behind the last player, and for a few moments, the only sound was the thud of boots on tiles and the heavy breathing of effort.
Coach Harrison stood before the whiteboard, marker in hand.
"You've played well. Shark, your movement's sharp,precise, diabolical. Axel, I like your hunger, but trust your team. No lone chases. Keep the rhythm we built."
Deo nodded beside him, arms crossed, captain's armband glinting under the fluorescent light.
"Let's finish it clean, no ego," he said firmly.
Axel leaned back on the bench, towel over his head, half-listening. Shark, seated nearby, gave a small grin.
"Don't think too hard, mate. Just play your football."
Axel didn't respond. His jaw tightened.
That whisper again faint, crawling along the edge of his mind.
"You don't need his advice… you're already better."
Harrison clapped his hands sharply, breaking the air.
"Right then! Let's take this home!"
The players rose, voices rising with energy.
The second half kicked off with Nixon Pool pushing aggressively. Their front line pressed high Maes and Cory sprinting to force mistakes.
Lucius directed his defenders calmly, but the pressure was real.
A poor clearance from Isaac was quickly intercepted by Austin, who fired low. Lucius dived, fingertips saving it wide.
The corner was cleared, and Devertary burst forward on the counter.
Floxx Leon threaded a through ball down the middle, a perfect line splitting Nixon Pool's defense.
Axel sprinted into space, beating Björk for pace.
The crowd rose, this was it!
He took one touch, then another, eyes on goal. Alexander Daniel, Nixon Pool's keeper, stepped out.
Axel struck.
But instead of a clean finish, the ball flew too high, grazing the top netting.
Just over.
The entire stadium groaned.
Axel froze for a second, staring upward in disbelief.
He could almost feel the shadow behind him whispering: "You hesitated. You listened to them."
Shark jogged over, patting his shoulder. "You'll get the next one. Don't force it."
But Axel turned away, his expression clouded.
The match soon began to slow into a war of patience.
Ness anchored the midfield, breaking passes, intercepting Austin's runs.
Reis and Roux tried switching flanks, but Matthias and Deo tracked back tirelessly.
Every time Nixon Pool attacked, Cole Isaac rose to clear. Every time Devertary advanced, Nixon Pool's Cavalcanti Hugo matched them stride for stride.
Then, in the 65th minute, came Shark's moment.
Deo chipped a clever through pass, Shark anticipated it perfectly, breaking behind the defense.
He rounded the keeper, sliding the ball past Daniel, the entire stadium held its breath.
Thud!
The ball struck the side post and rolled agonizingly wide.
Shark bent forward, palms on his knees, half-smiling in disbelief.
From the stands, chants of his name echoed through the stadium:"Shark! Shark! Shark!"
Axel stood nearby, breathing heavily. For a moment, their eyes met.
Shark simply nodded, reassuringly.
But Axel's stare lingered cold, measuring.
Inside, the voice returned again, venomous and smooth: "See? Even he falters. Your time is coming."
Harrison could sense the shift. He yelled from the touchline, waving his arms.
"Focus! Don't let them back in!"
Devertary kept their lead, but the rhythm had changed. The passes grew shorter, more cautious.
Nixon Pool found confidence in small wins, keeping possession longer, testing from range.
Austin drove one from thirty yards out saved.
Roux nearly connected with a cross, cleared by Chris Daniel.
On the counter, Axel demanded the ball constantly, calling louder, faster. But Shark began orchestrating differently drawing defenders, opening space for others.
Their styles contrasted sharply, teamplay against raw ambition.By the 75th minute, the scoreboard still read
Devertary United 2 – 0 Nixon Pool
(Shark 22', Axel 40')
The stadium buzzed with both excitement and unease. Greenwood, watching from his private box beside Chloe, leaned forward slightly.
"It's starting," he said quietly.
"The spark between them."
Chloe hesitated. "You wanted this, sir?"
He smiled faintly.
"Not wanted. Needed. Competition breeds greatness or chaos. Let's see which wins."
The camera panned back to the pitch, where Shark and Axel stood only a few meters apart, same crest, same ambition… but eyes fixed on different horizons.
The tempo of the game had changed.
Devertary United's two–goal cushion gave them comfort, but not complacency. Nixon Pool, battered and frustrated, refused to fold.
The crowd's rhythmical chanting echoed through the Zeriot Malin air: "De-ver-tar-y! De-ver-tar-y!"
The noise surged like a living thing, pulsing through every blade of grass.
Kim Austin,Nixon pool captain, lungs of impenetrable steel began urging his teammates higher up the pitch.
His gestures were sharp, precise, his voice cutting through the noise:
"Press! Don't give them time!"
The away side obeyed.
Reis and Roux began pinning back Devertary's full-backs, while Cory drifted central, waiting for a loose ball to pounce on.
At the 78th minute, their pressure nearly paid off.
A loose touch from Ruyne Ness was stolen by Vincent Maes, who sprinted into the box.
Maes fired low to the near post but Lucius, steady as ever, dropped fast and palmed it away.
Chris Daniel cleared the rebound with a fierce header.
Harrison exhaled sharply on the touchline.
"Stay compact!" he barked.
"Don't lose focus now!"
Axel and Shark exchanged quick glances before retreating to their half. Both nodded silently agreeing, for once, to protect their lead.
The minutes ticked down, tension tightening like a string ready to snap.
Floxx Leon, normally calm, was now everywhere, intercepting passes, spraying long balls, dictating rhythm.
His effort didn't go unnoticed by Greenwood, watching from above.
"That boy's vision…" Greenwood murmured, arms crossed.
"He's the glue they don't even realize they need."
Axel, on the other hand, grew impatient. He wanted one more goal, his goal, to prove something.
At the 83rd minute, he darted between Cavalcanti Hugo and Björk, forcing his way toward goal.
He unleashed a shot venomous, precise but Daniel caught it with both gloves.
Axel punched the air in frustration, his temper flaring.
That voice returned again, faint but cruel:
"Every save he makes mocks you. Strike harder next time. Show no mercy."
Shark, catching the expression on Axel's face, simply muttered to himself:
"It's not about anger,… it's about rhythm,I almost gave in to frustration after the match against Northin Way FC."
At the 86th minute of the game. Nixon Pool threw everything forward.
Austin and Roux pressed together, forcing Keller and Ramon deep into their own third.
A long cross from Reis curled dangerously into the box, but Isaac Cole rose above everyone, heading it clear.
The ball bounced toward midfield and landed at Floxx Leon's feet.
He didn't hesitate.
With three Nixon Pool players charging toward him, Leon feinted left, rolled the ball right, and burst through the gap.
Devertary's crowd rose as he sprinted into open field, the counterattack igniting in seconds.
Deo ran wide, pulling a defender. Shark moved central. Axel trailed just behind.
Leon glanced once then drove forward himself, refusing to pass.
Thirty yards out.
He shifted the ball to his left boot and unleashed a curling rocket.
The ball soared.
Daniel leapt fingertips grazing nothing but air.
Top corner. Goal.
Devertary United 3 – 0 Nixon Pool (Leon, 88')
The Zeriot Malin erupted in pure, thunderous euphoria.
Scarves waved, flags shimmered, and the club anthem rose again in booming unison.
Leon slid to his knees before the crowd, fists raised high. His teammates mobbed him Shark first, then Deo, Matthias, Ness… all shouting in joy.
All except Axel.
He watched from a few feet away, his expression unreadable.
The shadow behind him whispered again:
"He takes the praise that should've been yours."
Axel clenched his fists but said nothing.
The final minutes flowed like music.
Devertary United played with the calm of champions confident, connected, complete.
Nixon Pool, drained and defeated, simply tried to contain the damage.
When the referee finally blew the whistle, the sound felt like release.
Full-Time:
Devertary United 3 – 0 Nixon Pool
(Shark 22', Axel 40', Leon 88')
The home crowd roared as the scoreboard lit up brilliantly against the evening sky.
Shark turned toward Axel, offering a grin. "Guess we all triumphed, huh?"
Axel didn't answer, just stared past him at the fans chanting Leon's name.
Greenwood, still in the viewing box, set down his glass and smiled faintly.
"Balance restored," he murmured to Chloe.
"For now."
Below, the team celebrated together but the seed of rivalry had already taken root, growing quietly beneath the victory.
The floodlights dimmed one by one, leaving the Zeriot Malin Stadium bathed in a soft golden afterglow.
The echoes of the cheering crowd still lingered faintly, like ghosts of celebration.
Inside the players' tunnel, laughter and chatter replaced the tension of ninety minutes. Boots clacked against tiled floors, jerseys swapped, and water bottles passed around.
Shark sat at the edge of a bench, towel around his neck, his expression calm but satisfied. His hair still glistened with sweat as he leaned forward to unlace his boots.
Beside him, Dierckx Matthias slung his kit bag over his shoulder.
"Good game out there," Matthias said with a grin. "You read my passes perfectly."
Shark smiled, giving a small nod.
"You made it easy," he replied. "That cross in the first half, I thought it was going in. You've really grown into your role, Matthias."
Matthias chuckled softly. "Trying to keep up with you, that's all."
The two shared a brief handshake a quiet moment of mutual respect amidst the noise of triumph.
A moment later, the locker room door opened.
Coach Molis Harrison stepped in, his expression carrying that familiar blend of authority and warmth.
Clipboard still in hand, he surveyed the players with pride.
"Gentlemen," Harrison began, voice firm yet full of satisfaction, "that was a performance to remember. Teamwork, discipline, confidence, everything we've worked on came alive tonight."
He let his eyes move from one player to another, pausing briefly on Shark, then Axel, then Leon.
"This is what Devertary United stands for. Don't let it stop here."
Applause rippled through the room.
Even Axel, though silent, clapped briefly before slipping his headphones on.
Harrison grinned, nodding.
"Alright, grab your things. Let's get on the bus."
The team bus rolled out of the stadium, its blue-and-gold paint reflecting the passing city lights. The sound of engines hummed beneath quiet conversation.
Some players dozed off; others replayed match highlights on their tablets.
Harrison sat near the front, talking with his assistant about the upcoming schedule, while Greenwood's voice occasionally echoed faintly through the driver's comms, congratulating them on the victory.
Near the back, Shark sat by the window, his head resting lightly against the glass. Outside, the city drifted by glowing billboards, cheering fans waving flags even as the bus passed.
Axel sat two seats away, earbuds in, staring blankly at his phone. The shadow of frustration still lingered on his face, though he said nothing.
Shark glanced briefly in his direction, then turned back to the window with a small sigh.
The mansion gates opened slowly, revealing the grand training estate that served as home to the club's players.
Warm lights glowed through the windows as staff members stood ready to welcome them back.
The bus came to a halt, and one by one, the players stepped off — tired but smiling.
Deo waved from the front seat.
"I'll catch up later. Family's waiting."
"Enjoy," Shark called after him with a grin.
The others filed inside, chatting softly, splitting toward their rooms.
Inside the mansion, the atmosphere was serene a stark contrast to the roaring stadium just an hour earlier.
Shark climbed the stairs to his room, his footsteps echoing faintly against the polished floor. When he entered, he tossed his bag aside and collapsed onto his bed, arms spread.
The faint scent of grass and sweat still clung to his skin, but his mind had already drifted somewhere else.
He turned his head toward the bedside table, where a framed photo stood a smiling woman in her forties, eyes warm and kind. His mother.
For a moment, he stared at it silently.
"Maybe it's time I went home," he murmured softly. "It's been too long."
He reached for the remote, switching on the TV.
The screen flickered to life, the broadcast glowing across the dim room.
Commentator's voice:
"Welcome back, folks! We're live from the Torland Arena, where Northin Way FC take on Night Phantom two of the La Rima League's top sides. The stakes couldn't be higher tonight…"
Shark's eyes narrowed slightly as he sat up.
The familiar faces of Johnsen Torbjørn, Guillermo Vázquez, and Wagner Braun filled the screen. The tension of their last draw still fresh in his mind.
As the players lined up, Shark's lips curved into a faint smile.
"Let's see what you've got this time, Northin Way."
Outside, the city had quieted into the hush of night. Inside, the flicker of the TV cast long shadows across Shark's room the calm before another storm in the world of football.