Dallas Cowboys Stadium. Second Quarter. Score: 7:0. Time: 08:30.
The atmosphere was not merely tense; it was thick with the suffocating pressure of absolute, existential fear. The Cowboys' defense was not beaten; it was psychologically shattered. Three MMA champions—their ultimate, secret weapons—had been eliminated by anti-torque resonance, friendly fire, and catastrophic shoulder impact. Joint locks, torque, and alloy spikes, the limits of human ingenuity, had all failed. The men realized they were fighting something beyond human classification, an entity that broke physics on a whim.
The Cowboys' sideline was silent, the Head Coach a hollow-eyed portrait of defeat. The players, rigid with terror, stared blankly ahead.
The Fear Paralysis and the Open Field.
The 49ers regained possession. Levi stepped onto the field. His very presence was now an active, paralyzing weapon, a field of force that repelled human courage. His eyes, burning with the golden light of his Diamond Form, swept across the remaining Cowboys' defense.
The reaction was immediate and shocking. The defenders scattered instantly, moving sideways and backward, not in a defensive scheme, but in a desperate, instinctual flight response. The middle of the field—the traditional heart of the defense—was abandoned.
"They have broken," the lead commentator sighed into the microphone, his voice a strained whisper. "The Cowboys' fear of Levi has completely superseded their professional duty. The field is clear."
Levi looked at the scattered, trembling players, a slow, contemptuous smile spreading across his face. The feeling of achieving victory without effort was satisfying, yet ultimately dull.
"No," Levi muttered into his helmet, his voice carrying the deep resonance of his power. "Winning easily is too boring. Dr. Sophie, they have no fight left. I have to give them a final, indelible reason to remember this day. They need a symbol of their absolute, irrevocable surrender."
He stopped at the midfield line, ignoring the ball. His eyes locked onto the Cowboys' largest remaining defender, Robert, "The Big Unit," a massive 350lb defensive tackle who had been strategically avoiding all contact.
The Public Call-Out: Announcing the Execution.
Levi raised his hand and pointed a single, imperious finger directly at Robert, then pointed toward the distant end zone. His message, delivered through his body language, was clearer and more devastating than any shout: "You, Big Man. I am going to take the ball and run directly over your head. Stop me in front of all of America."
The stadium roared with a mixture of shock and morbid excitement. Robert's massive frame trembled; he wanted to roar, to fight, but the physical memory of the sparks, the shattered arms, and the unconscious Coleman was too potent.
Fear won. Robert suddenly turned and fled toward the sideline boundary, abandoning his post and his professional honor.
"Robert! What are you doing! Get back here!" the coach shrieked, his voice cracking with absolute desperation.
Robert ran, preferring the certain shame and career fines to the guaranteed, violent disintegration by the "Demon."
"Soft!" Levi laughed, the sound loud and contemptuous.
[SYSTEM ALERT: FEAR DOMINANCE ACHIEVED.]
Levi took the handoff, accelerating instantly. He didn't chase the endzone; he chased Robert. The 350lb man, despite his size, was a terrified mouse fleeing an apex cheetah.
The Extreme Carry: Humiliation Redefined.
Levi caught Robert near the sideline, slamming his shoulder into the giant's side. Robert staggered, the impact feeling like a runaway train, but Levi didn't let him fall.
Levi plunged his left hand beneath Robert's shoulder pads, lifting the 350lb mountain of flesh like a sack of groceries.
[SKILL: EXTREME LIFT ACTIVATED.]
In front of a stunned national audience, Levi single-handedly carried the ball in his right arm, while his left arm lifted and carried the 350lb Robert toward the end zone.
Robert shrieked in terror and humiliation. "No—! Let me go! I quit!"
Levi crossed the endzone line, carrying Robert. TOUCHDOWN! The score immediately became 13:0 (after the successful extra point).
But the public humiliation was not complete. Levi released the ball, then secured Robert's waist and legs. He hoisted the massive man high over his head, a terrifying display of raw, unrestrained power.
The Power Slam: The Ultimate Insult.
On the pristine turf of the endzone, Levi executed a wrestler's Power Slam, violently driving the $350 \text{ lb}$ Robert into the ground with catastrophic force. The turf visibly vibrated from the impact.
Levi stood over the groaning, defeated man. "Remember this," Levi announced, his voice booming across the stadium. "You are not an obstacle. You are my stepping stone!"
The referee crew was too terrified to even approach their "Unrestricted Collision Rights" document serving as Levi's absolute diplomatic immunity.
The Global Threat Rises.
High in the VIP box, the mysterious Observer-03 lowered his binoculars. His expression, previously one of cold clinical observation, now contained a flicker of intense realization.
He uses fear. It amplifies his presence. S-Class status is confirmed. And he is unstable.
"Target: Levi. Confirmed S-Class status. Possesses extreme spiritual field interference (Fear). Conventional means are obsolete."
He pressed a red button on his concealed device. "Initiate Hunt Plan — Phase Two: Deploy Counter-Element 'Shadow Element'. Objective: Disrupt mind, then capture alive." The hunt for the unconquerable had officially escalated from a league problem to a global, extra-legal capture operation. The world Levi was about to discover was much larger than the NFL.