The tunnel was loud. Not with voices, but with heartbeats.
Boots scuffed against concrete. Players adjusted shin guards. Coaches murmured last words. The ref blew into his whistle once, then again. Sharper. More urgent.
Vihaan looked at his hands.
They were trembling.
Not with fear. With something heavier. The weight of expectation, the roar of dreams clashing on turf, the knowledge that this wasn't just another game — this was the game.
He looked at Leon. His friend was staring straight ahead, jaw clenched, eyes burning.
"You ready?" Vihaan asked quietly.
Leon didn't look at him. "I've been ready since we lost to them in October."
The whistle pierced the tunnel. Time to walk out.
Second Half Kickoff
Schalke 1 – 1 Dortmund.
The grass looked brighter under the sun now. The overcast greys had parted, as if even the sky wanted to watch.
The crowd was louder too — parents, fans, a couple of scouts with notepads half-lowered as they leaned forward.
The ref blew.
Dortmund started fast again. Becker orchestrated early touches, a quick switch to the left, then a drive down the wing.
Brandt charged, cut inside Jonas, crossed — and the ball whizzed past the face of goal.
Too close.
Vihaan shouted, "TIGHTER! PUSH OUT!"
No panic. Not now.
43rd Minute.
Schalke turned the tide.
A clearance. Vihaan chest-trapped, then rolled it back to his centre-back. Movement. Flow. Then a smart one-two with the fullback.
The crowd murmured — a rhythm forming.
46th. Leon dropped deep. Vihaan saw the gap.
Threaded pass. Diagonal. Perfect weight.
Leon turned his marker and shot.
Side netting.
So damn close.
Leon punched the air in frustration.
50th minute.
Foul on Vihaan. Becker clipped his ankle. "Ready to lose!" the Dortmund captain smirked.
Vihaan stood, brushing dirt off his knee. "Just make sure you don't leave with nothing."
Becker laughed. "We don't lose finals."
55th minute. GOAL. Dortmund.
Counterattack. One misstep.
Becker with a disguised no-look pass, and their striker slipped through the line.
2–1.
The Dortmund bench erupted. Their coach pumped a fist. Schalke fans groaned. Coach Müller slammed his water bottle into the turf.
"WAKE UP!" he screamed.
Vihaan stared at the ball in the net.
He felt it then — not fear, but fury.
"Let's go," he barked. "NOW."
58th minute.
Schalke passed with purpose.
Vihaan dropped between the lines, calling for it again and again. His boots felt lighter now — the pressure had turned to propulsion.
Quick touches. Switch of play. His Field Scanner pinged — space to the right.
He released Jonas down the flank.
Cut-back. Chaos. Blocked shot.
Corner.
60th Minute. The Equalizer.
Vihaan whipped it in from the right flank outside of the box after receiving ball from short corner.
Leon timed his jump. Hung in the air. CRACK — his head met the ball.
GOAL. 2–2.
Leon roared. He sprinted to the corner flag, both hands in the air.
Vihaan arrived a second later. No words. Just a hand clasp, firm and raw.
The bench exploded. Coach Müller didn't smile — not yet — but his shoulders dropped an inch.
One more goal.
One more step.
63rd–70th minute. Chaos.
Midfield turned into war.
Tackles flew. Two yellows for each side. Tempers flared. The ref whistled nonstop.
Vihaan lost one duel to Becker. Then won two in a row.
[Quest Update – Vihaan 4 : 3 Becker]
The scoreboard didn't change. But something else did.
Momentum.
Schalke wanted it more.
73rd minute.
Becker made a darting run toward the edge of the box.
Vihaan tracked him, every step. Becker feinted. Slowed. Pivoted. Tried the same move that fooled him in the first half.
Not this time.
Vihaan stepped in. Clean tackle. Ball poked away. Cheers erupted from the stands.
Becker hit the ground and screamed for a foul. The ref waved it off.
Vihaan turned and didn't look back.
[Quest Update – Vihaan 5 : 3 Becker]
76th minute.
Müller shouted instructions. Schalke's fullbacks pushed higher.
Vihaan found gaps like they were drawn on a map only he could read.
Backpass. Turn. Flick to Jonas. Then a sudden acceleration.
He sprinted forward, eyes on the final third. The pitch opened.
He was in space.
He raised his hand.
The ball came.
One touch to control. Defender closing in.
Vihaan shifted left, then exploded right — a body feint, a ghost.
He reached the edge of the box.
Then saw Leon.
Unmarked.
He could shoot. But he didn't.
He squared it.
Leon didn't hesitate. One strike. Left foot.
GOAAALLLL. 3–2.
Schalke takes the lead.
Pandemonium.
Leon sprinted straight toward the bench. The whole squad joined him.
Even the goalkeeper ran 40 yards to pile on.
Vihaan stood still for a second, breathing heavy, watching it all.
Then he raised his arms.
This time, the whole stadium noticed.
They chanted his name.
Vihan. Vihan. Not a lot of people, but noise was loud as ever.
Final Minutes.
Dortmund threw everything.
Long balls. Set-pieces. Desperate runs.
Becker tried again. Vihaan shadowed him, step for step.
Another interception. Another clearance.
[Quest Complete – Trait Assimilation Successful]
But Vihaan didn't see the notification.
He was too focused. Too locked in.
Full Time.
The whistle blew.
SCHALKE 3 – 2 DORTMUND.
Everything stopped for a beat.
Then the noise came crashing down.
Roars. Cheers. Tears.
Leon collapsed to his knees.
Jonas hugged the goalkeeper.
Coach Müller? He threw his clipboard into the air and grabbed his assistants in a bear hug.
Vihaan just stood there.
Arms wide.
Face tilted toward the sky.
They did it.
Champions.
Undefeated at home.
Victors over Dortmund.
Leon reached him first. Sweaty, wild-eyed.
"You're insane!" he shouted.
Vihaan laughed, chest heaving. "You scored twice."
"You bossed it. That second half—man—just—insane."
Coach Müller jogged over.
"VIHAAN!"
The boy turned.
Müller grabbed his shoulders, eyes fierce.
"You played like a man today."
No more words.
He pulled Vihaan into a hug. Quick. Powerful.
"You've just made it real hard for the U-17 coach to ignore you."
Behind them, the squad held up a hastily found banner.
"Champions – Regionalliga West – Schalke U-15"
A photographer snapped pictures. A scout jotted notes furiously.
And just as the team began posing, Anya came running through the crowd, ducking under the ropes.
She held up her sketchbook.
Vihaan grinned. He bent down and opened it.
A new drawing. Him, holding a shining golden crown, standing on a field. Beside him, Leon. Behind them, a dark silhouette — Becker, watching.
And at the bottom?
"Bhaiya — KING OF THE FIELD."
He ruffled her hair and tucked it inside his bag.
Later that evening, alone in the locker room.
Everyone else was gone. Showers done. Celebrations moved to the lounge.
Vihaan sat alone.
His heart finally slowing.
The HUD blinked alive again.
[Quest Complete: Break the Rhythm]
Trait Acquired: Tempo Dictator – Control midfield rhythm. Increases pass effectiveness under pressure. Enhances spatial awareness and composure.
Assimilation Status: Complete.
Trait Mastery: Level 1.
Future Traits: LOCKED until next System Milestone.
Vihaan exhaled.
Becker was good.
But the trait was his now.
He stood up, pulled his jersey over his head, and stared into the mirror.
"One match at a time," he whispered.