Enter Kai Denver

ON THE FIELD – PRE-GAME

The grass crunched softly beneath their cleats as Team D took the field, the air thick with heat and pressure. Sweat beaded on their foreheads not from effort, but from the weight of what was coming. The sun hung above them like a challenge, scorching and silent.

Kyren stood in the center of the huddle, calm, commanding.

"Whatever we do," he said, voice low but firm, "we win this match."

There was no desperation in his tone just certainty. This wasn't about hope. It was a mission.

Fugo adjusted his gloves, his jaw tense.

"Film doesn't lie," he muttered. "We key in on their WR Jin James. That dude moves like he's got cheat codes."

Matthew pointed across the field as if Jin might appear any second.

"Elijah lock him down. One mistake, and we're chasing shadows."

Elijah gave a quick nod, fingers twitching at his sides.

"Got it. No mistakes."

Kyren looked around the circle, eyes burning with focus.

"Don't just track the names. Track the patterns. We're not fighting a superstar we're fighting a system. Play the whole picture."

Then, like a premonition, the opposing team trotted onto the field.

Team X entered like they owned the turf. Sleek black jerseys. Clean strides. No barking. No trash talk. Just confidence, dripping off every movement.

And at the front Jin James.

Tall. Wire-lean. Smooth like silk. He jogged up to midfield, flicking his dreads back with a lazy grin.

"Sorry we're late," he said casually, like this was a pickup game at a local park.

Kyren didn't flinch. His eyes stayed on Jin's.

"No problem. Can we start now?"

Jin's smile widened.

"Yes, please. I've been dying to stretch my legs."

ZIDANE'S OFFICE – OBSERVATION ROOM

Zidane sat reclined in a leather chair, legs crossed, notebook balanced across his thigh. He wasn't relaxed he was coiled, a predator behind glass. Every page in that book was a war plan. Every stroke of the pen, a move ahead.

Beside him, Zalika leaned in, arms folded.

"That notebook again," she said, eyeing it sideways. "Football science or top-secret data collection?"

Zidane didn't glance up.

"I'm just observing. Like any good researcher."

"You think they'll win?" she asked, curiosity laced with hope.

He paused—pen still.

"If they chase names like Jin, they'll lose. That'd mean they learned nothing."

[BAACK ON THE FIELD]

The whistle blew.

The roar of the crowd faded beneath the sudden focus. Pads locked. Cleats pounded. The players took position.

Kyren crouched behind center, scanning the defense. His eyes flicked left. Elijah was on the outside. He nodded.

"Don't follow the name," Kyren muttered under his breath. "Follow the play."

Across from Elijah, Jin James smirked. Cool. Confident. Deadly.

"Don't blink, rookie," he said smoothly. "I'm gonna make this fun."

Elijah settled in, knees bent, fingers twitching.

He wasn't just guarding a receiver.

He was guarding his place on this team.

KICKOFF – FIRST QUARTER

The whistle shrieked.

The ball was snapped. Kyren dropped into the pocket, helmet jerking left, right, center.

Team X exploded off the line tight coverage, speed from all directions.

Matthew caught the short pass, juked right, cut left

WHAM!

A linebacker detonated into him like a missile.

Matthew hit the turf hard, skidding.

He sat up a second later, gasping. Fugo reached down, helping him to his feet.

"Bro," Fugo said with a grin, "he folded you. You're like twice his size!"

Matthew winced, brushing dirt from his jersey.

"I blinked. I was vertical. Then I wasn't."

Kyren clapped his hands, calling them back.

"Good catch. Now we know who to watch on their defense too. That wasn't random."

He turned to Cloe.

"Trips Right. Run Option Delta. Let's go!"

They broke the huddle, crisp and urgent.

Kyren lined up under center. Cloe snapped the ball clean.

Snap. Step. Fake hand-off.

Elijah flared out wide. Matthew cut across the middle. Fugo slipped underneath on a shallow route.

Read. Read. Fire.

Kyren launched the ball tight spiral, sharp trajectory.

It should have been a clean connection.

But

"Not today!"

Kai Denver flew in from the opposite side, leaving his man, reading the play like a book. He dove, arm stretched

SWOOSH DEFLECTION!

The ball ricocheted away.

Dead play.

Kyren stood frozen.

"He read that...? Already?"

ZIDANE'S OFFICE

Zidane closed his notebook slowly. He exhaled through his nose, calm but intrigued.

"Team D," he murmured, almost to himself, "meet Kai Denver."

He leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

"The man who made Team X beat Team R."

Zalika looked at him sharply.

"He's that good?"

Zidane nodded once.

"He's not flashy. He's efficient. And efficient defenders ruin flashy offenses and reckless quarterbacks."