Titans carried the narrow lead, but nobody inside the arena looked comfortable. Not the crowd. Not the players. Not even the coaches pacing along their technical boxes like caged animals waiting for someone to leave a gap.
Jason glanced up at the scoreboard for the hundredth time.
TITANS 1 – 0 RIFT STRIKER
45:00
A slim advantage against a team like Rift Striker never felt safe. They were built for chaos. Built for comebacks. Built to run until your lungs burned and your legs begged to stop. And they were very much alive.
Their captain felt the weight of it on his chest, but his face didn't show it. His teammates looked at him during the warmup jog. When they were tired, they checked him. When the match demanded calm, they followed his breathing. When nerves crawled into their bloodstream, they waited for his shoulders to stay relaxed.
If the captain was steady, they could be steady.
