Ian crossed midfield like a hurricane. The grass seemed to open up before him, and each step kicked up fragments of turf, while the sun burned the air and the stadium pulsed like a giant heart. He didn't hesitate, didn't look back — he knew that the entire Zenkai defense was charging in desperation, trying to close the space before the ball reached Kelvin.

Ian's eyes shone with something different, a mix of fury and absolute focus. Sweat ran down his face, his breathing was heavy, but the rhythm of his touches at his feet was flawless. Every dribble, every step, was a controlled explosion.

"Come on, Ian! Here!", Kelvin shouted from the left, already moving diagonally, calling for the ball.

But Ian didn't respond. His gaze cut across the field as if he could see beyond the game, as if destiny was at the tip of his foot. Biel and Luquinhas came from behind, breathing like those who refuse to lose — but Ian didn't slow down.

Dante ran down the right, Kazana opened on the left, but the number 10 had something else in mind.

"Go, Kelvin, get ready…", Ian murmured, almost inaudible, eyes firm.

And then, at the moment when the field seemed to compress, Ian stopped suddenly. The Zenkai defender braked with him, but it was too late.

Ian spun his body, heel scraping the ground.

The movement was so fast that the defender was lost — and before he could regain his balance, Ian released the pass.

It wasn't an ordinary pass.

The ball left Ian's feet like thunder. A violent, direct shot, tearing through the air with a sharp crack. The force was so intense it felt more like a strike than a pass.

Kelvin, on the flank, saw the ball coming.

His reflexes were instantaneous — he opened his arms, turned his body, and positioned his left foot.

The ball came like lightning, bouncing close to the turf, with brutal speed.

Kelvin felt the vibration climb his leg, his ankle muscles trembling.

But he didn't retreat.

"Damn, Ian… what a rocket", he thought, gritting his teeth, gaze locked.

Kelvin's body wavered for a second, but his control was clean. He pulled the ball close, glued it to his foot, and kept his balance, body slightly leaning. His touch transformed that explosive pass into pure control — the kind of touch that makes the stadium hold its breath.

Ian smiled, still in the center.

"I knew you'd handle it", he murmured, a sparkle in his eyes.

But the play wasn't over yet.

Kelvin looked ahead: Mateus was sprinting to close the space, and Biel, recovered, ran diagonally to double the mark.

Kazana's shout echoed from the other side:

"Pass it to the middle! Pass it to the middle!"

Kelvin didn't answer.

He took a deep breath.

His mind spun in silence — the sound of the stadium disappeared for a moment.

The field became a narrow tunnel, and there was only him, the ball, and the defender ahead.

"What happens if I use two skills at the same time?"

[Skill Activated: Instinctive Dribble]

[Instinctive Dribble Usage: 0/3]

[Skill Activated: God of Speed]

The air seemed to compress around Kelvin.

The blue letters of the system floated before his eyes, pulsing with a living, electric light.

A wave ran through his body, as if gravity itself was pushing him forward. Veins in his arms stood out, breathing became shallow, and his heart beat so fast it seemed to match the sound of the ball hitting the grass.

The ground beneath Kelvin's feet was no longer just grass.

He felt it — every fiber, every unevenness, every point of support.

The world slowed down.

The ball spun slowly before his eyes, and the defender ahead moved as if trapped in a dense air current.

Kelvin took the first step.

The grass exploded beneath his cleat.

Mateus readied himself, body low, arms spread.

But Kelvin was already gone.

With a short touch, he changed direction, left foot scraping the ground and right foot nudging the ball in a small arc — enough to make the defender fall for the feint.

The sound of cleats cutting the grass echoed.

"What—?!" Mateus tried to turn, but only saw the trail.

Kelvin had already passed.

The second defender came next, closing the corridor. Biel, sweating and panting, lunged in.

But Kelvin spun at the last moment — a 360º turn, so precise and natural it looked choreographed.

The ball circled his right foot and returned to the left with the lightness of a silk touch.

The stands erupted.

"LOOK AT THIS BOY! MY GOD, WHAT IS THIS?!"

The sound grew, shrill and vibrant.

Luquinhas advanced from the center, determined.

"I'll get him!", he shouted, running with all his strength.

But Kelvin already saw him coming.

He smiled.

With his left foot, he pushed the ball inward.

Luquinhas stretched his leg — Kelvin executed a "elástico" so fast that the sound of the ball's impact snapped like a whip.

The ball passed ahead, and Kelvin crossed the opponent's body, shoulder grazing his in the momentum.

"Impossible…", Luquinhas muttered, losing balance.

Kelvin didn't stop.

The grass became a sequence of green strips and white blurs.

Each step was an explosion.

The wind pushed his face back, and the sound of the crowd distorted.

"Go, Kelvin!", Dante shouted from the middle.

"Go all the way!"

Diego, Zenkai's attacker, fell back to help with the marking. He lunged for the tackle, leg high.

But Kelvin leaned his body and slid the ball between his legs at maximum speed.

The dribble was clean, brilliant.

The entire stadium screamed.

"OHHHHHHHHH!"

Kelvin passed him and didn't even look back.

His eyes were on the goal.

Zenkai's goalkeeper adjusted his position, nervous, shouting orders no one could hear.

"Close it! Close the line!"

But no one could catch him.

With every meter, Kelvin seemed faster.

His legs moved at a rhythm no longer human — with every touch, the ball spun, stuck, responded.

The last defender — Biel — lunged desperately in front of the area.

Kelvin made the final move.

He pulled the ball with his sole, spun, feinted outward, and went inside.

His body disappeared for a moment in the defender's shadow.

When Biel turned his head, the ball was already passing the other side.

Kelvin reappeared behind him, feet touching the ground lightly.

The crowd went wild.

"HE BEAT FOUR! FOUR!!!"

Dante shouted from the middle, incredulous:

"IT'S HIM! IT'S HIM!"

The field opened ahead.

Kelvin took a deep breath.

Zenkai's goalkeeper advanced, arms raised, trying to close the angle.

But in that instant, the world went silent.

Kelvin felt his heart beat once, twice, three times.

Kelvin spun his body, left foot back, right foot ready.

"This is my moment", he thought.

The shot went out like lightning.

A clean, precise strike, full of rage and grace.

The ball rolled, rising with a sharp sound, cutting through the air.

The net shook violently.

The ball hit the top corner, no chance.

The goalkeeper fell a second later, not understanding what had happened.

The stadium exploded.

The sound was deafening, a collective roar that shook the ground.

Shouts, flags, flashes — everything mixed into absolute delirium.

Kelvin fell to his knees, arms open, chest heaving.

His vision shook, body still vibrating with the energy of the skill.

But his smile was real.

Deep.

Ian came running, laughing loudly, grabbing him by the shoulders.

"YOU REALLY DID IT! YOU REALLY DID IT!"

Dante came right after, fists raised, shouting.

"WHAT A GOAL?! WHAT A GOAL?!"

Márcio, Felipe, and even Murilo ran out of defense.

Oliveira, still with his face marked, raised both arms, laughing.

"I KNEW IT! I KNEW HE WOULD DO IT!"

Sanu's fans were in a trance.

Some couldn't believe it, others pounded the stands, calling his name in chorus:

"KEL-VIN! KEL-VIN! KEL-VIN!"

While the entire stadium roared, Kelvin looked up at the sky and breathed deeply.

He looked down at the field, breathing slowly.

The stadium still roared, but for him, everything was calm again.

He knew this goal wasn't just a point on the scoreboard.

It was the shout of the entire team.

The symbol of Oliveira's promise, Kazana's leadership, Ian's trust.

The scoreboard read 3-2.

Sanu in the lead.

But in Kelvin's heart, it was more than that.

It was proof that he could do the impossible — and that name, now chanted by the entire stadium, was one he finally deserved to hear.

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