Gifted and talented aren't the same. One is born with it the raw, natural fire that turns heads the moment they step on the field. The other is forged in silence built through grind, setbacks, and obsession. In this game, talent might get you noticed...
but only the truly gifted break through and leave their mark."
Announcer 1 "LOCKE WINDS UP AND THERE IT IS! THE SUPER SWINGING ARM IS UNLEASHED!"
Announcer 2 "He's launching it deep no, wait, that's beyond deep! That ball is traveling 70... no, 80 yards! There's no way anyone can track that!"
[On the Field]
The moment Kyren Locke's fingers flicked off the laces, the stadium held its breath. The ball left his hand like a cannon shot, spiraling into the sky at an impossible arc. The entire defense turned, heads snapping toward the heavens, trying to locate the ball.
But only one player on the field wasn't searching.
Elijah Vance was already moving.
He had seen the path the instant the ball was thrown. The coverage around him was suffocating two cornerbacks, a safety over the top but he didn't care. He cut inside, then veered out, his*Route Mirage making defenders hesitate.
Defender 1 "Where the hell did he go—!?"
The moment of hesitation was all he needed.
Announcer 1"THERE HE GOES! VANCE BREAKS THROUGH BUT LOOK AT THAT HEIGHT DIFFERENCE! HE'S GOT A 6'3" SAFETY SHADOWING HIM!"
Announcer 2 "Height? That doesn't mean a damn thing to Elijah Vance."
The ball was falling now, descending like a meteor from orbit. The safety leaped first, fully extending
but Elijah hadn't even jumped yet.
And when he did, the entire stadium gasped.
His 50-inch vertical sent him soaring over the taller defender, his body twisting mid-air. His Aerial Body Control kicked in, adjusting his position perfectly as the ball dropped right into his outstretched hand. No only one hand.
Announcer 1 "HE WENT UP WITH ONE HAND HE'S GOT IT! HE'S GOT IT!"*
Announcer 2 "He caught that like it was nothing. And WAIT! HE'S LANDING ON HIS FEET?!"
The safety crashed to the ground. But Elijah? He twisted his hips mid-air, feet barely brushing the turf before he exploded forward.
One cut. Two. Gone.
Announcer 1 "HE'S STILL GOING! NO ONE CAN CATCH HIM TOUCHDOWN!!!"
The crowd erupted. Kyren Locke stood at midfield, watching his receiver streak into the end zone, a smirk forming on his lips. He didn't even need to celebrate.
Because he already knew how this play would end.
And so did Elijah Vance.
[Three Years Ago]
In the world of sports, American football is often dismissed as a mere imitation of soccer. But how can it be a rip-off when it produces legends? Gods among men? Look at Austin Johnson, for example. The first high school student to play for a professional club at just 18 years old. Since his debut, he's scored 49 touchdowns an unheard-of feat. And then there's JJ Jones the strongest football player. King Sage the best football and then Zard Goldberg Teddy, hailed as 1 of the world's greatest football player in history right after Zidane Kingsley.
[ T.B.C SCHOOL BOARDROOM]
A heavy silence hung in the air as the school's board members gathered around a long, polished table. The tension was thick, the air filled with a mix of frustration and anticipation.
"This meeting was called to discuss how we plan to move forward with the football program," said the Chairman of the Board, his voice firm.
Finally, the President of the Parent Teacher Association (PTA) spoke up, slamming his hand against the table.
"It doesn't make any sense! Why do we even have a football program when we aren't producing first-class players? This country isn't developing stars just dropouts! The IFAF doesn't even take us seriously."
A few murmurs of agreement spread across the room, but a calm, confident voice cut through the noise.
"I disagree," said Zalika Williams, Head Chancellor of the Head of Council from T.B.C. Private High. "This school is for sports and the arts. Yes, we excel in academics, but athletes from all over the country dream of coming here to compete at the highest level. Just because one program is struggling doesn't mean we should abandon it."
She crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. "Besides, my younger brother will be enrolling in a few months. He's a damn good quarterback. You'll see."
A teacher shook his head dismissively. "Even if we keep the program, one good player won't change anything."
"Then how about we change everything?" said the Principal, her voice carrying authority.
The room fell silent.
"What?" The same teacher scoffed. "The coach quit. What else can we do, Madam Principal? Just leave it be."
The Principal leaned forward, her hands clasped together. "The students aren't the problem. The coaches are. All of them are useless."
The Vice Principal raised an eyebrow. "Watch your tone. You've only been principal for six months."
The Chairman cleared his throat. "So, you're saying the lack of talent isn't the students' fault, but the coaching staff's?"
"Yes, sir," the Principal affirmed without hesitation.
The Chairman's expression darkened. "Are you implying that the top schools that dominate the National Football Series (NFS)and even the national team are also failing because of their coaches?"
"Exactly," the Principal said. "I believe the students of this school, with the right coach, will win the NFSand go on to win the Super Nova."
A brief pause. Then, laughter erupted.
Everyone in the room laughed, except Zalika.
Because she knew.
The Super Nova was a worldwide tournament, where only the best of the best competed. If this country's national team couldn't even make it past the trial rounds, how could this school possibly win?
Suddenly, the door swung open.
A man stepped inside, walking with a cane.
The room fell silent as all eyes turned toward him.
His black hair was slicked back, his presence commanding.
A legend had just entered the room.
Zidane Kingsley.
A world-class player. A man who had won the Super Nova four years in a row. A man whose career ended due to a devastating leg injury.
The teacher who had scoffed earlier now looked like he had swallowed a lemon.
"Why are you here?" he asked, his voice shaky.
Zidane smirked. "My good friend Natalya wanted a coach for the football team," he said. "And I'm here to apply."
The Principal Natalya smiled, her confidence radiating.
"With Zidane," she said, standing up, "we're going to win the NFS. And then, we're going to overthrow the national team and win the Super Nova."
Zidane placed a hand on his cane and gave a slow nod.
"Right."
[LATER EMPTY BOARDROOM]
The meeting had ended, leaving only Zidane and Natalya in the room.
Natalya sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Thanks for this," she said softly.
Zidane chuckled. "No problem, old friend. I'm retired now, and life's been boring as hell. Besides, I have some ideas." His eyes gleamed with ambition. "So, really, thank you for bringing me in."
"You're welcome," she replied.
Zidane stood up, adjusting his cane. "First thing we need to do? Develop this football program. From the ground up."
Natalya nodded. "The system we have is state-of-the-art . I made sure of that before I called you. It's not finished yet, but it will be by September."
"Good," Zidane said. Then, he looked her dead in the eye.
"But there's one more favor I want to ask."
Natalya raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"There's this kid who's blowing up the country right now," Zidane said. "I want him. He's going to be one of my revolutionaries."
His voice dropped to a near whisper.
"His name is Kyren Locke."
Before Natalya could respond, a voice came from the doorway.
"Oh, you mean my little brother?"
Zalika stepped into the room, arms crossed, smirking.
"You don't have to worry," she said. "He's already coming here."
[Game Time – 4th Quarter, 10 Seconds Left]
Commentator 1 "Ladies and gentlemen, it's all come down to this! 10 seconds left on the clock, and the Ravens are trailing by four. They need a touchdown to win it all!"
Commentator 2 "And standing at the helm is none other than Kyren Locke, the young quarterback with ice in his veins. He's been electric all game, but can he deliver in the clutch?"
The stadium is roaring, the tension thick in the air. Kyren stands in the shotgun formation, eyes locked downfield. His linemen are breathing heavily, exhausted but determined. The defense is set, ready to pounce.
Commentator 1 "The defense is bringing pressure this is it!"
The ball is snapped. The pocket collapses instantly. Kyren steps up, dodging a lunging defensive end, then spins away from a linebacker. His vision sharpens. His instincts take over.
Commentator 2: "Kyren escapes! He's rolling out to his right clock winding down this is the last play!"
Receivers streak downfield, but the coverage is tight. Then he sees it. A small window, a flicker of hope. His top receiver, Jace Carter, breaks free on a post route.
Kyren plants his foot and launches a rocket. The ball spirals through the air like a missile.
Commentator 1 "IT'S UP CARTER IS THERE"
The defender leaps, fingertips grazing the ball, but it's just out of reach. Jace Carter extends
Commentator 2 "HE CAUGHT IT! TOUCHDOWN! THE RAVENS WIN!"
The stadium erupts. Kyren rips off his helmet, arms raised in triumph. His teammates swarm him, chanting his name.
Commentator 1 "Unbelievable! Kyren Locke just proved why he's the future of football! Ice in his veins, precision in his armwhat a finish!"
Kyren grins, looking up at the scoreboard. The clock reads 00:00. By The game is over. Victory is theirs. 35:21