The second half kicked off under floodlights and tension.
Joe Ralls jogged into position, the captain's armband strapped tightly to his bicep. His eyes swept across the field—every blade of grass seemed magnified, every sound sharper. He felt the weight of expectation, of silence turned attention. Yet his mind was calm. This was his domain.
As he settled into midfield, he glanced at Aaron Ramsey, who gave a firm nod. No words were exchanged. None were needed. It was time to execute what they'd discussed behind closed doors.
Firdaus stood on the touchline, stoic as ever, but behind his composed eyes, the system was active.
[TACTICAL MODE: HYBRID SHAPE DEPLOYED]
The new formation flickered over Firdaus' internal screen—a flexible 3-2-2-3 that shifted into a 4-1-4-1 off possession. Colwill was positioned narrowly, Tanner was instructed to hug the line, and Ramsey was now the quiet architect beside Ralls.
A digital pulse highlighted optimal passing lanes. Positional arrows blinked in rhythm with the team's movement.
The moment Ralls touched the ball, a collective sigh echoed through Cardiff City Stadium.
He passed backward. Then moved. Then called again.
Firdaus noticed it immediately: the tempo changed. There was an assurance in Ralls' posture, a rhythm returning to the play.
The fans noticed it too.
Within minutes, Cardiff regained control. Ralls and Ramsey began dictating play like twin conductors. Their movements were subtle, efficient. They didn't dribble unnecessarily or show off. They controlled.
Rinomhota, now watching from the bench, nodded slowly—he was learning. Not just tactics, but temperament.
Colwill dropped into the half-space and linked up with Collins, then darted forward. The Sheffield midfield, which had pressed so confidently in the first half, now looked reactive. They were chasing. Frustration began to creep into their lines.
"Shift! Shift!" Ramsey called.
Perry Ng surged again, receiving the diagonal from Ralls. Meite made a run into the channel.
The crowd leaned forward.
The cross came in low—Meite struck it with his right boot, but it deflected off a defender and out for a corner.
Cheers. Applause. Cardiff were alive. Not just surviving—pressuring, probing, pushing.
Firdaus didn't move, but internally, his mind pulsed.
"System."
[LIVE DATA STREAMING]
Energy Levels: Ralls 83%, Ramsey 78%, Meite 70%
Trust Links: Strengthening between Ralls–Ramsey, Ramsey–Ng
Heatmap: Colwill pressing high, creating overloads in Zone 14
A new parameter flickered:
Cohesion Trend: Positive (12% up since substitution)Fan Mood Indicator: Swelling toward confidence
Firdaus allowed himself the smallest nod. The storm of criticism was slowly turning into curiosity.
It was the 65th minute when everything seemed to click.
Ralls received a pass under pressure, turned with a subtle feint, and sprayed it wide to Tanner. Tanner brought it down and cut inside. Ramsey drifted near the edge of the box, pulling a defender. It opened a sliver of space.
Tanner played it to Colwill. A flick. A one-two.
Colwill broke free on the left. Meite cut in from the opposite side, timing his run to perfection.
Colwill threaded a perfect ball past two defenders.
Meite controlled it with his left foot. The stadium held its breath.
He took a touch forward. Just him and the keeper now.
Then—
WHACK.
A brutal tackle came flying in from behind. A crunch of boots and grass. Meite went down screaming, clutching his ankle. The ball rolled harmlessly into the keeper's gloves.
The stadium erupted in chaos.
Firdaus' system flared.
[INJURY DETECTED: MEITE – HIGH IMPACT TO RIGHT ANKLE][CONTACT FORCE: EXCESSIVE – POTENTIAL FOUL PLAY]
He clenched his jaw, fingers tightening behind his back.
The referee sprinted over. The Sheffield defender stood frozen, arms wide in protest.
Ralls was already on his feet, shouting at the Sheffield player, face red with fury. Ramsey intervened, pulling him away before it escalated.
Colwill shoved an opponent who was smirking. The fourth official stepped forward.
Firdaus scanned the system: Meite's pain index was spiking.
The physios were already on the pitch.
The ref reached into his pocket.
The crowd screamed.
Firdaus stepped forward for the first time in the match, his expression unreadable.
Would it be yellow? Or red?
Would Meite walk again today?
To be continued...
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