The halftime locker room vibrated with energy, the good kind, almost. Sweat misted the air, boots thudded against the floor, and heartbeats echoed in sync with the rising hum of the stadium outside.
Eternal Era led 1–0. The victory scent was faint but real.
Jason stood before them, hands on his knees, studying the holographic display of the Solar Blades' formation. His brows furrowed.
"They're adjusting," he said quietly. "They've switched to a diamond midfield, compressing the center. They're planning to suffocate Anastasia's space."
Lionel leaned forward, towel around his neck. "They'll try to draw us into the middle. If we bite, we lose the flanks."
"Exactly." Jason nodded. "So, we'll bite differently."
He turned toward Blaze, then Diego, who had been sitting silently, arms folded.
"I'm changing the shape. 4-4-2. Two strikers up front."
Scarlet's head snapped up. "Wait—both of them?"
Jason's eyes flicked toward Diego. "Yes. Blaze and Diego."