"The score is currently RedWood 1 to 0 Iron haven. Honestly would you call Christopher an Archangel for how beautiful that goal was."
VARVisonary then pans his screen to an article that reads "Alejandro warrant for arrest for human trafficking."
"My oh my, the star player Alejandro wanted for such a, horrible crime. Unfortunately there are no other news currently, so enjoy the game." VARVisonary says while clicking back to watch the live game
Parker turns off his phone as he's on the bench drinking a fruit smoothie, he then looks at Ethan.
'Why the hell is he drooling?' As Parker finishes his shake he attempts to throw it in a trash can and misses. He groans as he walks over to pick it up. Then throw it away.
Ethan's skin, pricking him as he stares at the ball, this new crave he wants. It's not just the ball.
He feels like he's on a stage as a puppet with strings, not knowing the master at play.
Yet Ethan is in front of thousands, he feels as if he's being laughed at mocked after getting tripped so easily.
His skin continues to itch, he tries to resist the urge to itch this pain away.
As he hears the whistle blows Jordan crosses the ball to him. Ethan comes back and the ball lands right in front of him.
As he heard people chanting his name. 'What is this...feeling' Ethan has tasted the addicting nectar of fame.
He looked at the crowd, not for acceptance but for confirmation. Confirmation that the people are chanting the Underdog's name.
Ethan wasn't scared by the chanting or the eyes watching him. Christopher looks at him 'What is happening to him, this feeling.'
Ethan looks down at the ball and feels a bright spotlight on him.
When he looks around at other players there are only a handful with a spotlight as he sees it.
Ethan starts to dribble the ball away from their side of the field. Each step leads to a pulse upon the field.
A golden snake forms beneath his feet, slithering towards Parker. As they both stare at each other.
Ethan then draws back his leg and crosses the ball across the field, as defenders look up as the ball goes past them and hits Parker's chest.
Parker flicks the ball forward as it was dropping from his chest. His eyes scanning the field imagining this play in multiple forms.
Jordan the Left Back spots his opportunity landing near him, the center Back
Mateo moves in to assist the set up for a one two pass.
Jordan surges forward, all of his muscles tensing up as he reaches out to intercept the ball. But Parker got to it quicker.
Right before Jordan's foot could make contact Parker darts in and slams his foot on top of the ball to stop the force.
With a quick tap from Parker he threads the ball through Jordan's legs nutmegging him, leaving Jordan humiliated and his ego destroyed.
In the shadows of the play, Ethan leads to become the star stepping upon the stage. Right into the box, he continues to position himself making sure it's perfect.
A golden serpent wraps around Parker's shoulder, it's sleek body slithering down to his dribbling leg, tightening it like a splint.
The pressure gets to Parker as he lifts the ball up and fires a high cross to Ethan, as he watches the ball like a shooting star. He then starts readjusting himself steadying his body.
He then hears the stomping of Christopher next him thinking he's going to offset him.
Christopher lunges forward sliding into Ethan's right leg. Right before Ethan could volley the ball into the goal.
As Ethan is falling his eyes lock onto the ball. As it hovers nears his legs. With a desperate attempt he strikes the ball as he lands onto his side.
The goalie scrambles forward reaching past the box, fingertips grazing the ball as it passes him as then the ball clips inside the post
As it then hits the very close side of the net near the bar. Ricocheting down past the goal line.
Ethan lays on his side feeling his foot in pain and yet his body filled with excitement hearing his fans cheer for him calling his name.
'I did it, I scored that goal I need more.' As his body writhes in ecstasy.
Christopher stands up feeling disgusted at what Ethan has become. He then feels an overwhelming presence behind him.
He quickly turns and it's Parker clapping for Ethan as he slowly picks him up wrapping Ethan's arm around his shoulder.
'What the hell is he' Christopher feels terrified within this monster's presence. Not even Ethan stands close to what he is. He looks up to the timer it's at forty-five minutes.
Ethan hops with the assist of Parker onto a bench drinking from his bottle.
Parker then gets a small ice pack and places it on Ethan's right leg.
A refree blows their whistle to announce half time. Players from both of the teams go to their designated locker room.
Parker helps Ethan to sit down on a bench in the locker room.
Ethan exhales sharply, wiping sweat from his brow as Parker kneels beside him, adjusting the ice pack. The dull ache in his leg pulses with each heartbeat, but he forces a smirk.
"Hopefully you are good." Parker says, concerned in his voice.
Ethan leans back against the cool metal lockers, shutting his eyes for a moment. "Yeah. Just gotta keep moving, Just odd why he would do that with so much risk."
Christopher, in the RedWood Warriors's locker room. His mind is still trapped in the moment from the field, that presence, the sheer force that had sent chills down his spine.
'What the hell was that that didn't feel human nor demon. How did I never notice his presence until now?'
Christopher then wraps a cold towel around his head to cool off.
The locker room buzzes with the usual tension, players muttering strategies, coaches barking instructions.
but Christopher drowns it all out. His gaze drifts to his cross, then to the digital scoreboard mounted above the lockers. 45 minutes left.
His fingers tighten into fists.
He doesn't know if their team is ready for what's coming next.
Parker sighs as he sits next to Ethan.
He then takes out his phone and goes to VARvisonary's stream it flickered to life in a dark studio wrapped in chrome and shadows.
Screens lined the walls, casting flickers of the game on loop reversed, slowed, dissected.
A figure leans forward, seated in front of a microphone shaped like a serpent's mouth. His voice, smooth like silk soaked in electricity, cuts through the silence.
The mask glows to life: neon circuitry shaped like a digital third eye, shifting expressions across a fluid screen. The man behind it is known only as VARvisonary.
"Let's talk about that goal," he mutters, voice modulated but oddly soothing. "The kind of play that turns whispers into roars… underdogs into obsessions."
He raises a finger as the replay begins, no generic highlight package here. Instead, his feed is stylized and edited. The ball gleams like gold, Ethan's footstep trails shimmer like stardust. The cross floats in slow motion, frozen in a crown of pixelated fire.
"Ethan, the boy with a bruise on his name and hunger in his veins. Look at his eyes. You see that? That's not fear. That's craving. A man dying for a taste of glory… and willing to tear his ligaments for it."
The scene shifts again, showing Parker's nutmeg, the flash of humiliation on Jordan's face, rewound and looped, then slowed to a crawl.
"And Parker, the Architect. Calm, calculated, cruel. Nutmegging Jordan like it's choreography, not war. And then, look at this, look right there." He zooms in on Parker's calf.
The audience can't see it, but the mask tilts slightly, knowingly.
"There's something poetic about it, isn't there? The way his calves tenses,like something whispering to him. Not strategy. Instinct."
Another click. The camera locks on Ethan's fall. The shot where he lands, body crumpling, leg caught under him, but his foot still connects. The digital filter flickers into gold as the ball slices past the goalkeeper.
"Look at that," VARvisonary murmurs. "They'll call it luck, they'll call it reckless, But deep down, they know that was inevitable."
A slow-motion replay of Ethan lying on the grass, lips parted, chest heaving, drunk off the crowd.
"He tasted it. Fame. And like any drug… he's going to want more. That's where the danger lies."
He leans back, the mask expressionless now, like a judge after sentencing.
"Second half's coming. Christopher's scared. Rightfully so. Because he's not just watching a game anymore… He's witnessing a metamorphosis."
The feed fades, only the mask glowing in the dark.
"And if that pressure wraps too tight…" the voice lowers, almost a whisper, "someone's going to break."