"...Touchdown."
Nance's mind went blank, completely losing the ability to think. He relied solely on experience and instinct, with the burning heat of excitement and madness surging in his chest.
"Touchdown!"
"Tooooooooouchdown!"
One long, thunderous exhale let all his emotions pour out without restraint. His face turned red as if he had downed an entire bottle of wine in one gulp—dizzy, the world spinning, yet unable to stop smiling.
"The Kansas City Chiefs stood in the end zone, starting their drive from an unfavorable three-yard position, facing a determined push from the Jacksonville Jaguars."
"However."
"The Kansas City Chiefs sounded the horn for a counterattack."
"Three collisions, three tackles, one close squeeze. Yet, against all odds, the Chiefs' rookie running back, number 23, somehow broke free, pushed through the crowd, and continued advancing despite losing his balance."
"In the end, Lance completed a staggering 103-yard rush for a touchdown."
"Wow!"
"After a first quarter filled with brutal clashes and relentless entanglement, it seemed the Jacksonville Jaguars were about to completely crush their opponent. The Chiefs had been teetering on the edge of collapse, struggling against their own mistakes."
"But no one expected that the team to break the deadlock first would still be the Kansas City Chiefs."
"On the brink of crisis, at rock bottom, the Chiefs' offense once again displayed its resilience. Lance single-handedly turned the tide."
"After a near-perfect rookie season, Lance continued his elite performance in the playoffs, playing a crucial role for the third consecutive game."
"Without a doubt, his talent and ability are shifting the spotlight back to the running back position—more than in any previous season."
"We have only one question: Is there anything Lance can't do?"
"Now."
"The balance has been broken, which means Marrone might need to adjust his tactics. If the Jaguars' offense refuses to change, the game pace could slowly shift into a rhythm that favors the Chiefs."
"This AFC Championship Game is getting exciting."
A sweeping, grand spectacle.
Nance couldn't contain himself. The spark they had been waiting for had finally ignited. Though the Jaguars' offense hadn't been outstanding, the pressure had undeniably fallen on them now.
All because of that lone figure standing in the end zone, like a god descending to earth.
And it wasn't just Nance.
The Chiefs' offensive players were also stunned, one by one staring at the beast in the end zone with disbelief.
Kelce was the first to act. He dropped to one knee before Lance, dramatically gesturing toward his leg.
Lance, understanding the joke, placed his right foot on Kelce's knee.
Then, with a beaming smile, Kelce polished Lance's shoe.
The other players followed suit, dropping to one knee with exaggeratedly obsequious expressions, gazing at Lance with mock reverence.
No one expected it.
None of them did.
This ground push had looked over more than once—every time it seemed Lance was about to fall, yet he had fought his way into the end zone with sheer determination, turning the impossible into reality.
The defensive players couldn't help but burst into laughter.
Houston straightened up and looked at his teammates. "Did you hear that? The Edge Walker has spoken. Now it's our turn to step up."
"Aye!"
"Aye!"
One after another, they responded with a native war cry.
Houston hesitated, his gaze landing on Revis. They still weren't very familiar with each other, barely speaking outside of practice. But after last week's game, they had grown a little closer.
Originally, Revis had been a rotational backup. But this week, Reid had promoted him to a starting role to shore up the Chiefs' struggling pass defense—an opportunity Revis had earned himself.
After a brief thought, Houston decided to take the initiative and play his role as a leader. "Ready to show these young guys what 'The Island King' can do?"
Revis glanced at Houston, his face full of pride. "Those kids still have a lot to learn."
The "young guys" he referred to included Ramsey.
Ramsey had publicly stated multiple times that his only idol was Revis—not just as a cornerback but across all positions in football. He believed Revis was the closest thing to a perfect player.
Now, Ramsey and Revis were facing off on the same field, competing from different positions.
And Houston was deliberately provoking Revis.
Revis didn't react outwardly, casually throwing a jab back at Houston. But his eyes had sharpened with focus.
The Jaguars' offense would likely strike back, trying to prevent the Chiefs from pulling away. This was the moment for the defense to hold the line and consolidate the breakthrough their offense had just made.
Both Houston and Revis locked their eyes on the opposite side of the field.
"The key question now is: How will Marrone adjust his offensive strategy?"
Romo cut straight to the point. But as he observed the Jaguars' offensive formation, his eyebrows furrowed slightly.
Something felt off.
"Marrone hasn't changed the lineup. They're still in the standard shotgun formation. Let's see if their offensive strategy has shifted at all."
However.
It hadn't.
"The Jaguars go with a first-and-ten run play once again. But this time, the Chiefs' defense anticipates it perfectly. Their frontline defenders focus all their attention on the ground game, shutting it down immediately."
"Fournette's run is sluggish. You can tell he's getting impatient, but his mind isn't keeping up. The execution of this play was poor—Jacksonville needs to make a change."
Fournette lay sprawled on the ground, completely shut down. He hadn't just failed to gain yardage—he lost two yards.
Three Chiefs defenders, including Houston, had seen through Jacksonville's run play the moment the ball was snapped, swarming Fournette before he had a chance to do anything. He had run straight into a wall.
The Jaguars' struggles on the ground weren't just due to Fournette's impatience. Their offensive line and receivers had failed to execute their blocking assignments, and worst of all, their entire strategy had been predictable.
Fournette struggled to get up, only to see Houston politely extending a hand. He hesitated, then took it and got pulled to his feet—only for Houston to immediately wrap him in a quick hug and whisper in his ear.
"Have fun."
Fournette's rage exploded. His face turned red, his entire body tensed, and his glare could've burned through Houston. Then, his eyes flicked to the sideline—where Lance stood, watching the game in silence.
His fury surged.
Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.
He had waited an entire season for this. Finally, the chance to face Lance head-on had come. Was he really going to remain silent?
Lance had already broken through first.
Now, it was his turn.
He would prove that he was one of Jacksonville's Three Horsemen.
He would prove the Jaguars were right to choose him.
He would prove he was just as good as Lance—if not better.
He would.
Powerstones?
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