The ball's still spinning in the net.
Ethan jogs back, but his shadow stretches long behind him, towards two men who aren't moving.
Christopher and Parker.
The game restarts, but the war changes fronts.
Redwood Warriors tighten their formation. Their passes become sharper, more desperate. Christopher stops looking at the ball entirely.
He's staring at Parker now.
The Architect: The one who sees too much and knows too much.
And yet, as Parker moves, something's off.
He slows, not physically but spiritually. His movements are delayed, like his instincts are running from something they've recognized.
And then it happens.
Minute 59.
A savage tackle.
Jordan humiliated earlier, charges from behind with a recklessness that betrays more than pride. His studs catch Parker on the calf, and the sound is not right.
A sick, dull crunch. Then.
Split.
Blood paints Parker's sock crimson as he collapses.
The crowd gasps. The ref's whistle is late.
VARvisionary's feed jerks, static buzzing for a second.
"Pain," the voice croons. "Not fear. No doubt. Just pain. Raw. Ancient."
Parker grabs his leg but doesn't scream. He just stares at the wound, unblinking.
The ref waves for medics, but Parker waves them off.
Because in that moment… he feels it.
Click.
Not a camera this time. A lock. Turning.
Something inside him cracks, not the bone. The shell.
A weightlessness pulses in his chest. Then a burn. Deep. Not injury, memory.
He sees himself before the Architect.
Not the Parker who dribbled with grace or played with strategy.
But the one who used fists more than feet.
A gang in the back alleys of the East Zone. Broken glass. Broken ribs. The silence after a man begged him to stop.
Parker was a bad man.
No redemption arc. No convenient orphan backstory.
Just cruelty.
Until one day… he saw a ball roll past a chain-link fence during a chase. He stopped. Looked at it. And something broke then, too.
It wasn't beauty that saved him. It was a distraction.
Soccer didn't redeem him. It just gave him somewhere to hide.
But now…
The game wants more than his skill.
It wants his truth.
He gets up slowly.
Bleeding.
But taller somehow and Stronger.
Christopher watches him.
Eyes widened. He feels it too.
This presence, this mutation, this evolution.
The red around Parker's wound spreads in a perfect circle. Almost too perfect. Almost... ritualistic.
Parker doesn't limp. He walks.
No one understands how.
VARvisionary's screen floods back in.
The mask glows brighter than ever.
"Did you feel that?" the voice is hushed now. "The blood didn't fall. It was marked. He's not just bleeding. He's awakening."
Replay shows Parker's wound in slow motion frame by frame; the blood doesn't drip naturally. It draws something on the turf.
A glyph, a shape, and a reminder.
Back on the field, Christopher steps toward him.
He's trembling, but he's not afraid.
"You're not what you used to be," he says, voice low.
Parker finally looks him in the eyes.
"No," he replies. "But he still lives with me. I just stopped feeding him."
The ball returns.
A new play begins.
Christopher surges forward, faster than before, fury in his stride. A prayer in his throat.
Parker meets him.
This isn't a game anymore.
It's two truths colliding.
"This isn't soccer anymore, this is a theater. This reminds me of the legends." An older man says while in the stands.
"Shut the fuck up old man can't you see I'm watching the damn game." A middle-aged man said aggressively.
He is holding a beer while wearing a Redwood Warriors jersey with Christopher's number. He is about 6 feet tall and has stubble on his chin and jaw.
His eyes are a red violet, and his jawline is sharp.
"Fucking worthless of a son." The man says as he takes the final sip of his beer
The old man gazes upon the game.
Two halves split one, waving the flags of IronHaven United and the other beating the drums for RedWood Warriors.
Ethan views the field as one giant cracked mirror, attempting to end this with his goal. The referees gave Jordan a Red card and sent him off the field for an intentional foul.
The referee sets up the ball for Parker near the edge of the sidelines.
Ethan sees a clear crack in Christopher. Ethan lurks behind him. "What the hell are you doing, sinner!" Christopher yells at him.
Parker sees this opening and fires the ball. The ball spins with a curve. Going towards Ethan. Christopher puts a hand on Ethan's shoulder to jump higher. He aimed his head to hit the ball, but it went down and past him.
Ethan shifts and moves away from Christopher to make him almost fall when he is coming back down.
As Ethan dashed away with possession of the ball, Christopher's knees strained when he made contact with the ground.
Ethan's eyes kept scanning the field, and cracks were everywhere, with no guarantee of a goal or any position.
He then sees a clear view of an opportunity. To the right of him, Rafael Costa, a Brazilian right midfielder. He has puffy black hair and brown eyes. He stands at 6 feet 3 inches tall.
Ethan crosses the ball, shattering the glass of opportunity. The ball gets trapped by Rafael.
He is a bit surprised but focuses back in, as he rushes down the field almost within the goal box.
He feels the pressure upon his leg and his heart 'What's going on, it hurts' his legs continue to strain.
Ethan is rushing near the goal box, looking at Rafael, the Serpent, constraining his leg and chest.
Rafael crosses the ball. Ethan sees this mirror, which is clear, clean, and reflective. He runs forward, desperate for this final opportunity.
As this mirror showed the memories of his older sister Clara, the times they'd secretly play soccer together, how she took the blame when they'd get caught, or how she would teach him soccer players and legends.
His final chain upon his mind finally broke as he was running, and tears fell onto his cheeks.
Ethan finally leaps into the air, facing the goalkeeper. He locked his eyes onto the ball.
Ethan, as he swings his leg up, makes an explosive contact with the ball straight forward through the mirror, shattering.
Shards fly everywhere as his memory of her will not be a burden, but now a Recollection in the mind.
At Minute 91, the ball blast passed the goalkeeper.
Ethan lands on his knees. The crowd was roaring and chanting his name. His team rushed to Ethan. The field now flows as grass, his eyes strain from tears, and his focus is used for the shot.
Some get next to him and slide in some in a literal sense. Then Parker gets in front of Ethan and looks at his Red Violet eyes then asks, "When can we eat, my calf fucking hurts and are you crying like a baby?"
The referee blows the whistle and finally calls the game.
Ethan shakes his head as he finally stands, then goes up to Christopher to shake his hand.
Christopher looks sad, but when he looks at Ethan, he's not mad or disappointed anymore 'How did that sin go away? Was it that he's satisfied now?'
He grabs Ethan's hand firmly and shakes it, then says hopefully, "I hope we can play another game again."
Ethan smiles and says, "Sorry for being a dick but same to you too Christopher."
As he watches Christopher and his team walk away to their sideline.