Check out advanced chapters on P@treon: [email protected]/CosmicKaminari
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"A Crazy Goal Fest! Belgium 4-3 France! Lance Scores Four Plus a Stoppage-Time Winner!"
"France Defeated but Honorable! Deschamps: A Team with Lance is Invincible"
"11 Goals in 6 Games! A European Cup Record!"
"4-3! The Most Exciting Match in European Cup History! An Absolute Offensive Show!"
L'Équipe, The Times, La Gazzetta dello Sport, Kicker, The Sun, Marca — almost every football outlet was out in force, sharing this explosive news the moment the final whistle blew.
The hosts scored three goals and still couldn't take the match. Belgium started low and finished high, going from a rocky group stage to delivering one god-tier performance after another in the knockout rounds. This 4-3 ultimate offensive showdown could be picked apart from any angle, and editors worldwide were struggling to find a place to start.
The internet wasn't waiting for them.
"Lance is invincible!"
"A poker in the European Cup — have you ever seen that? It's my first time."
"As a Frenchman and a France fan, I am completely convinced."
"Marseille local passing through — this is definitely the most exciting match I've ever seen in my life."
"Too crazy! Too crazy!"
The Chinese-speaking internet was not to be outdone.
"God Lance is awesome!!"
"Holy crap, they could still win that? I turned off the TV when France was 3-2 up."
"Then you missed out on everything, brother."
"Four goals in the Champions League Final, four goals in the Euro semi-final — God Lance is truly a god!"
#LanceEuropeanCupPoker
#LanceTheComebackKing
#GodLanceIsGod
Topics related to Lance dominated trending lists well into the next day. At one point, a rock singer surnamed Wang was practically in tears.
"I was just about to release my new album today."
"And the trending searches are stolen by you again?"
The most popular Weibo post was, of course, Lance's own. With nearly 50 million followers, even a casual update about his daily life could crack the trending lists. After a night like this, it set the entire internet on fire.
[A heart-pounding duel. It's a pity, Griezmann — you did your best. @Griezmann]
At Lance's urging, Griezmann had registered a personal Weibo account, giving him a window into the side of the internet he'd never seen. He gained nearly a million followers almost immediately and couldn't stop grinning.
Then Lance went and did this.
Even after winning, he didn't miss the opportunity to call Griezmann out publicly. The comments section descended into gleeful mockery.
"God Lance, you're so bad, I love it."
"Hahaha, this is just his style."
"You're really twisting the knife."
"Griezmann is going to cry himself to sleep in the bathroom."
"Can they still be good teammates next season?"
By the time Lance took a selfie and posted it, Griezmann and the French players had already left the field. The sixteen-year-old Mbappé stood wide-eyed and dazed on the turf, not yet fully processing what had happened. Veterans like Cabaye and Blaise Matuidi were in tears. Even Olivier Giroud, who wasn't the type to break down, collapsed to the ground and wept like a child.
They had so many chances to reach the final. And still, they fell short.
The spotlight, as always, surrounded the winners.
No matter how raw those moments of regret were, the losers could only return to the locker room and grieve in silence.
Lance, the man who scored four goals, found himself surrounded by reporters at center stage.
"Lance, facing Cristiano Ronaldo in a final again — will you defeat him this time too?"
"What kind of question is that? Of course I'm going to beat him!"
"Lance! How does it feel to break Platini's all-time European Cup goal record?"
Four goals in one match had first tied, then broken, the record outright.
"I don't really feel anything," Lance said with a calm expression, letting the implication hang in the air. "Maybe it's because I've broken too many records."
The reporters practically erupted.
"Lance, why did you choose to represent Belgium rather than return to your national team?"
He had been asked this before, back when he first joined Belgium. At the time, he stayed quiet — the topic was sensitive, and a poor answer could affect more than just himself.
But his standing in the game now meant he didn't need to hold anything back.
"Because this might be the only way to actually save our football."
"What? Could you explain further?"
"Why couldn't you save it from within the national team?"
"What are the reasons behind this? Can you reveal your plans?"
The questions kept coming, and Lance had to call for backup.
"Sorry — my team won't let me say more. I'll leave it to you, Hanna."
He patted Ms Hanna Müller on the shoulder and walked away, leaving her to manage the fallout.
"This kid, really..."
She grumbled internally, but she was happy. As Lance's profile grew, she had sometimes worried she might no longer be needed — that the operation would eventually outgrow a PR manager of her standing. But he always came back to her. Ms Hanna Müller allowed herself a small, quiet moment of satisfaction.
"Fck! Fck! F*ck!!!"
In the Portugal locker room, Cristiano Ronaldo smashed his water bottle against the wall.
He had genuinely wanted France to win. Against France, Portugal would have had a real shot at the title. He was confident he could have taken down the hosts.
But Belgium's performance had been simply uncanny. Their defense was a disaster — France scored three goals with what looked like ease. Any other team would have been eliminated. Any other team would have folded.
Belgium, however, had the biggest anomaly in the history of European football sitting up front.
Even Real Madrid couldn't win after going 4-0 up.
Who was there even to argue with?
After the Champions League Final defeat, Cristiano had practically locked himself away for nearly half a month, barely making it to the Portugal camp on time. If not for Georgina's encouragement, and his own consuming obsession with winning, he might not have made it at all.
Even now, any content with keywords like "Champions League Final recap," "Atlético Madrid," or "Lance" got closed immediately. He still hadn't fully moved on.
That slump had bled into the tournament. Portugal's group stage was a mess — without the 2016 expansion to twenty-four teams giving third-place sides a path to the knockouts, they would have gone home early. But they survived, they advanced, and Cristiano had slowly, match by match, rebuilt himself.
Now he was confident. He had rediscovered the Cristiano Ronaldo who absorbed defeat after defeat and kept pushing forward. Messi had suppressed him for years, and he'd found his way back. He would find his way back from this too.
"Come on. Since you've made it to the final, that's perfect."
"The final will be my day of revenge."