The System Makes Me a Player

Kelvin was the first to walk out. The late afternoon sun hit him head-on, gilding the field and lighting up his sweaty face. He raised his arm to the crowd, which answered with a roar.

Right behind him came Kazana, Ian, and Dante, followed by the rest.

Before the match resumed, Dante walked up to Kelvin and said something that had been stuck in his throat.

"Thanks, Kelvin"

Kelvin only smiled.

When the referee blew the whistle for kickoff, the atmosphere was pure intensity. Zenkai had come back different. Biel and Luquinhas started pressing high, and Diego was already trying to slip behind Oliveira.

"Close it! Close the middle!", shouted Kazana, dropping back to help.

Dante intercepted a dangerous pass and quickly released it to Rodrigo, who turned fast to Ian.

"Go, go!", shouted Kelvin, already moving down the left.

Ian sent a deep through ball, and Kelvin controlled it first-touch, shaking off his marker with a quick spin.

Kelvin pushed forward, cutting inside, and saw Kazana approaching the box. But the pass was intercepted at the last moment by Mateus, Zenkai's center-back.

"Damn it!", he shouted, slapping the ground in frustration.

The game stayed tense, with quick exchanges, hard tackles, and fierce midfield battles. The crowd could feel the tension rising with every minute.

From the bench, the coach yelled instructions.

"Dante, control the rhythm! Make the ball move!"

Dante lifted his head and spread the play, passing to Ian, then back to Kazana. The captain held it, turned, and launched a perfect deep ball to Felipe, who sprinted down the right.

Felipe received Kazana's pass with millimetric precision. The ball bounced once on the turf, and he already controlled it with the outside of his foot, cutting inside with speed. The stands vibrated. The play had promise.

"Go, Felipe!", shouted Ian, standing from midfield, following his teammate's run.

Felipe accelerated down the flank, the defender tight on his back. He cut once, twice, trying to find space for the cross. Sweat streamed down his face, and the crowd's noise pushed him forward — and pressured him at the same time. He glanced quickly toward the box — Kazana was in position, Kelvin was arriving, Dante was coming from behind. It was the perfect setup.

But Zenkai's defender, Mateus, closed the gap instantly. Felipe hesitated. He tried a short touch to escape but mistimed the pass. The ball struck the opponent's ankle and spilled into midfield.

Luquinhas appeared like lightning.

Zenkai's number 10 controlled it with his left foot and spun past Rodrigo, who was pressing in. One sharp touch, one elegant dribble — Rodrigo was left behind.

"Get back, Rodrigo!", shouted Kazana, retreating fast.

Luquinhas lifted his head. The field opened wide before him. Biel pushed through the middle, Diego sprinted to the right. Zenkai's trio moved as if they shared one body.

The crowd held its breath.

"Mark him! Close him down!", yelled Sanu's coach from the sideline, gesturing frantically.

Luquinhas feinted a wide pass but brought the ball inside, escaping Dante with a subtle touch. The pitch seemed too small for his skill. Dante turned to recover, but it was too late.

With a sweeping curve, the ball reached Diego.

And suddenly, the scene everyone in the stadium remembered — Diego versus Oliveira — repeated itself.

But this time, Diego's eyes were different.

He didn't come with the same drive or confidence. Earlier, Oliveira had shut him down completely, like an unbreakable wall. Sanu's defender looked at him with that same calm, unshakable gaze — one that said, "Try again".

Diego feinted the dribble. He pulled the ball to the side but didn't advance.

Oliveira stayed low, posture steady, eyes locked on every move.

A second of silence.

Then, the unexpected.

Diego spun his body and passed first-touch, sideways, without looking. A short, quick, precise pass.

Oliveira took a step forward, surprised.

"A pass?", he muttered, turning his neck.

The answer came like thunder.

Biel appeared like a ghost at the top of the box, sprinting full force and escaping Ian. The shot came first-time, his whole body leaning forward, his right foot striking clean.

A boom echoed through the stadium.

The shot was perfect. Powerful. Skimming the ground.

Murilo didn't even have time to react.

Because it wasn't Murilo who was meant to stop that shot. Only one person on the field could read the play and understand what was about to happen.

Dante.

He threw himself, leg outstretched, body airborne. The impact was harsh — the ball ricocheted off his chest and spun out for a throw-in, grazing the post.

For a moment, the entire stadium went silent.

Then came the explosion.

"DAAANTEEEEE!", roared the stands.

Kelvin ran to him, helping him up. Dante coughed, breathless, sweat dripping down his face, his eyes still unfocused from the impact.

"Are you insane, man?", said Kelvin, half-laughing, half-in disbelief, "If that ball had hit your face, you'd be messed up for life!"

Dante was still recovering. "My vision showed me this would happen. I had to do something"

Kelvin patted his shoulder, laughing. "That's it!"

Oliveira approached, glancing toward the opposing midfield. His look was firm but thoughtful. "Why the hell did he pass the ball? He never passes when he's that close to goal"

The throw-in was taken quickly. Zenkai kept possession, moving the ball around, looking for space. Luquinhas seemed to orchestrate everything. His control was flawless, every touch a threat.

"Close number ten!", shouted Rodrigo.

But it was useless.

Luquinhas moved as if time ran slower for him.

Dante stepped up to intercept, but Luquinhas fooled him with a body spin and passed to Biel.

This time, though, Zenkai's midfielder didn't shoot. He held the ball, waited for Diego's run, and tried a through pass.

Oliveira intercepted.

Sanu's defender read it perfectly, placing his body between Diego and the ball. He turned and played it out to Kazana, who took two steps and launched it left — where Kelvin waited.

Kelvin controlled and cut inside, the marker closing in hard.

The next touch was quick, to Ian, who exchanged with Dante and opened to the right for Felipe.

"Go, Felipe!", shouted Kazana again.

Felipe ran, heart pounding fast. He wanted to make up for his earlier mistake. The crowd pushed him with screams and applause.

This time, he didn't hesitate. He cut inside and crossed with power.

The ball flew across the box, grazing Kazana's head and nearly finding Kelvin on the far side.

But the goalkeeper came out well, punching it away.

On the bench, Sanu's coach shouted commands, sweating as much as the players. "Breathe, control the middle! Don't get caught in their rush!"

But the rush was inevitable.

Zenkai came like a storm.