First, Jackson.
Then, Posluszny.
Lance had expected this. The middle of the field was a war zone—a place where every step carried danger. But he wasn't omniscient. He had no eyes in the back of his head. Just as he prepared to engage Posluszny, a sudden force from behind disrupted his balance.
It wasn't strong, but it was enough to throw him off.
From the angle, it had to be defensive tackle Abry Jones.
But there was no time to look back. The immediate threat was ahead.
The hit from behind caught Lance completely off guard. His body lurched forward, and despite his best effort to regain control with his core strength, he couldn't stop himself from falling.
Posluszny's figure loomed larger in his vision.
If he couldn't dodge—then he'd go straight through.
Lance abandoned the idea of regaining his balance. Instead, he threw his full weight forward, planting his feet and launching himself at Posluszny like a runaway freight train.
Posluszny was caught off guard.
He had been preparing for a standard tackle, only to see Lance hurl himself forward. His initial excitement barely lasted half a second before transforming into alarm.
Crash. Slam. Drive.
A relentless sequence of impacts smashed into Posluszny.
His footing gave way. He stumbled backward, step after unsteady step, as Lance drove into him, helmet-first into his shoulder.
Dig. Push.
Two simple actions, but they sent Posluszny reeling.
Finally—
He couldn't hold on any longer. He tumbled backward, completely losing his footing, and as he fell, Lance was ready to break free and push forward.
Lance caught a glimpse of two safeties sprinting toward him, closing in fast.
But Posluszny, in a last-ditch effort, clamped onto Lance's leg as he fell, dragging him down with him in a desperate attempt to stop the advance.
Lance couldn't shake free.
Even so—
He had powered forward for eight yards, turning a second-and-fifteen into a third-and-seven, showcasing his sheer force as a runner.
Lance locked eyes with Posluszny. He had been this close to breaking through before the safeties could close in. But Posluszny's quick decision-making had snuffed out that chance.
The intensity of the game was rising with every snap.
Grinning, Lance reached out and helped Posluszny up, clapping him on the shoulder before heading back to the huddle. No words needed.
Third-and-seven.
Anyone could see it now—both teams were throwing everything they had into this battle. The Jaguars' defense refused to yield against the surging Chiefs' offense, and the game was finally reaching its peak.
And sure enough—
On third-and-seven, Smith went for a quick strike to Hill, hoping to catch the defense off guard.
But the Jaguars' secondary was locked in.
Cornerback A.J. Bouye closed in instantly, wrapping Hill up before he could gain extra yardage.
Fourth-and-one.
Finally—
The Jaguars had halted the Chiefs' drive with pure grit and toughness, proving why they were a legitimate championship contender.
EverBank Field erupted in cheers.
Still, the Chiefs had nothing to regret. They were already in the red zone, and Butker's field goal attempt from here would be routine. A successful kick would still extend their lead.
Yet Reid stood silently, watching the field.
Eleven yards from the end zone.
Was this a chance to settle?
A conservative approach would mean taking the easy points and stretching the lead to ten.
A bold decision would mean…
"Going for it."
"Unbelievable! Reid is going for it on fourth down!"
"The Chiefs are lining up fast—Jacksonville didn't see this coming! Smith is rushing the snap to catch them off guard!"
"Snap!"
"Smith—he's dropping back! It's a pass play!"
Fourth-and-one.
The Chiefs rarely took unnecessary risks. But Reid understood that at this moment, it was about more than just points.
It was about momentum.
Sure, they could take the safe route and build their lead. But that would also mean allowing Jacksonville's defense to regroup, keeping the game in a tight battle.
Instead, why not go for the kill?
Even if they failed, they'd still hold the lead, and the game would remain a close contest.
But if they succeeded, the Chiefs would take full control.
Reid decided to take the gamble—
Seizing the element of surprise.
By making a rapid decision to go for it, lining up immediately, and snapping the ball before Jacksonville could react, the Chiefs were dictating the pace.
But—a pass play?
With Kansas City's inconsistent passing attack, challenging Jacksonville's league-best pass defense—was this really the right call?
Immediately, the Jaguars switched into their signature mode—
Fast? So what? Their defensive system was ingrained in muscle memory.
Step one:
Corners Bouye and Ramsey locked in on Kelce and Hill. Telvin Smith, the strongside linebacker, closed in on Kelce as additional support.
Step two:
Pressure.
Beyond just their reputation as "Sacksonville," the Jaguars had an elite ability to apply consistent pressure on the front line. Even with only a four-man rush, they could disrupt any play.
The moment Smith snapped the ball, Jacksonville's defense reacted instinctively.
This was why elite defenses thrived in the playoffs—their ability to remain composed and execute flawlessly in any situation.
Then, they noticed Smith's passing stance.
Linebackers and safeties spread out.
In the red zone, a throw from the 11-yard line could directly target the end zone. So instead of blitzing, the Jaguars focused on eliminating passing options, forcing Smith into a tough spot.
Kansas City was betting on chaos.
Jacksonville was betting on stability.
In the blink of an eye, the battle over fourth down escalated to a war of will.
And no one had time to stop and ask—
Why was Reid passing on fourth-and-one?
Just then—
Jacksonville's pass rush surged forward.
The Chiefs' pocket protection wavered.
Smith turned.
A shovel pass.
The ball dropped into Lance's hands.
A fake pass into a run.
This—this was the real play call.
This was why the Chiefs had hurried to the line, snapping the ball in a rush.
And even that wasn't the whole picture—
Reid hadn't gambled blindly.
The moment Lance caught the ball, the entire Chiefs offense moved.
The offensive line shoved Jacksonville's front toward the left.
Kelce pushed Ramsey outward toward the sideline.
Opening up one perfect gap in the right-side slot.
This—
This was the real key.
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Powerstones?
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