Saturday.
The day before the final.
The training ground felt different. Every touch, every pass, every run — sharper, tighter, cleaner. The players didn't speak much; they didn't need to.
Everyone knew what was coming.
---
Team Talk
Coach Rossi gathered the team after the final drill.
"Listen," he said, "Mantova will come hard. They've been waiting for this since December. They'll try to press high, choke you, frustrate you."
He pointed to the tactical board.
"Ferrari and Ferri will mark Han. That's two players. That means space will open up for Morelli, Cattaneo, and Colombo. Use it. Move. Rotate."
He turned to Jaeven.
"Don't chase the game. Control it. You'll get your moment. You always do."
Jaeven nodded. "I will."
---
That night, he stayed up late, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.
The system interface glowed faintly above him.
> [System Notification]
Final Match Detected: Championship Decider
Special Rewards Available upon Victory.
He exhaled slowly. "Special rewards, huh?"
His heart raced — but not from nerves. From anticipation.
He wasn't the same kid who doubted himself months ago.
He was Virtus Lombardia's spark. Their symbol.
And tomorrow, the world would see what belief looked like.