Slowly, one by one, starting with Conrad, then Duvant, then Thomas, they spoke up, encouraging Mathias.

  Then Reinhart’s voice cut through

  "Look. You’re not alone, Mathias. YOUR TEAMMATES ARE WITH YOU. Show them who you truly are—destroy those who tried to break you. Believe me… you’re a monster too."

  Finally, Mathias realized what he had to do.

  At Reinhart’s roar, Mathias—who had been about to sh out—stopped.

  The moment he had been waiting for had finally arrived.

  He spped his own face, then slowly raised his head.

  At that instant, the blurred faces around him began to fade. One by one, he recognized his teammates… and his enemies.

  He saw Duvant, waving at him.He saw Lucien, ser-focused on the game.He saw Harry, brimming with energy.He saw Eden, always smiling.He saw Ismael, as fierce as ever.He saw Mike, looking down on the opposition.He saw Conrad, commanding on the pitch.He saw Thomas, calm as usual.He saw Lukas, still hesitant.And he saw Ryan, full of confidence.

  His gaze shifted to the bench—he saw all the faces of the Bradford pyers. Then his eyes locked onto the man who had orchestrated this moment for him.

  Standing there in his signature coat, Reinhart watched him… and smiled.

  Mathias also saw the faces of the Barrow pyers—the ones who had judged him—along with the mocking expressions of their fans.

  Then his vision zeroed in on one spot in the stands.

  A woman he knew all too well was there.

  His eyes then snapped forward, locking onto the man who had tried to ruin his life.

  At that moment, an intimidating aura unlike anything before radiated from Mathias.

  For the first time, he saw the entire field clearly.

  This was the awakening of the monster who would shake League Two to its core.

  The hologram of Mathias glitched momentarily, recalcuting his stats.

  Reinhart, watching this, finally spoke:

  "Now… we’ve awakened the sleeping lion."

  The Game Reaches Its Peak IntensityThe field burned with the pyers’ fighting spirit.

  Mike, with his nimble footwork, stole the ball from Jude on Bradford’s right fnk. Without hesitation, he surged forward, tearing through the defensive line.

  A quick pass to Eden.

  A one-two so smooth it was almost like a dance—Eden returned the ball perfectly to Mike’s feet as he charged down the right wing.

  Harry, ever the tactician, drifted into the center, not just as a decoy but as a second shield, ready to support if needed.

  Everything moved so fast—like a dream sequence.

  And then Mike looked toward the penalty box.

  There, standing alone, was a figure who seemed to have been summoned by fate itself.

  Mike didn’t think.

  Whether driven by instinct or sheer will, he sent in a cross—a high, curling ball that cut through the tense night air.

  Barrow’s towering defenders leaped, their massive frames stretching to intercept—

  But the ball had a mind of its own.

  It sailed past their outstretched limbs, untouched.

  Then… time seemed to stop.

  From the shadows of doubt, one man rose.

  He jumped—higher than anyone else on the pitch.

  His body hung in the air like an eagle that had waited its whole life for this moment.

  CRACK!!

  The header wasn’t just a header.

  It was a bst of destiny.

  The ball rocketed into the net like a bullet carrying all of Mathias’ rage, pain, and resolve in one unstoppable trajectory.

  The goalkeeper could only turn his head—helpless as the net rippled violently, the sound echoing like thunder through the stadium.

  Silence.

  Thousands of jeering fans fell quiet. The lips that had once spewed insults were now sealed shut. Even the commentators who had mocked him were left speechless.

  They weren’t just witnessing a goal.

  They were witnessing a rebirth.

  And under the floodlights, amidst the stunned silence, Mathias stood.

  No celebration was needed.

  His gaze said everything as he stared straight at the stands.

  [Commentator 1]:"GOOOOOOAAAAALLLLL!!! SPECTACULAR! A THUNDEROUS, BRILLIANT HEADER, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"

  [Commentator 2]:"ABSOLUTE MADNESS! WHO KNEW HE COULD JUMP THAT HIGH?! Even Barrow’s tallest defenders couldn’t reach it!"

  The SO Legal Stadium erupted. Though Bradford’s fans were outnumbered, their cheers shook the night.

  On the TV screens, expressions of doubt turned to awe.

  The pyer who had been mocked, underestimated, and written off—had just spped away all that doubt with a single, prideful header.

  But that goal was only the beginning.

  The real hell was just getting started.

  Minute 14Duvant, Bradford’s wonderkid, tore through the left fnk. His movements were like a venomous snake—slippery and deadly.

  Barrow’s defenders stumbled, their feet left behind, their bodies fooled.

  Duvant cut into the penalty box—then unleashed a curling shot!

  The ball danced through the air before burying itself in the top-left corner.

  [Commentator 1]:"DUVANT! OH MY WORD! THAT BOY JUST HUMILIATED BARROW!"

  Minute 20Eden and Harry linked up on the left. Their one-twos were lightning-fast, surgical in precision.

  The ball flowed outward—Eden whipped in a cross…

  Mathias! Again!

  His header was like a sledgehammer smming into the earth.

  The net bulged. Unstoppable.

  [Commentator 2]:"OH NO… MATHIAS IS BACK! THIS IS A NIGHTMARE FOR BARROW!"

  Minute 25A triangur py between Duvant, Lucien, and Mathias.

  The ball moved like magic, making Barrow’s defense look like amateurs in a training drill.

  Lucien broke free—one-on-one.

  With the calm of a maestro, he executed a chip shot.

  The ball floated gracefully over the keeper, dropping softly into the net—a cruel, beautiful finish.

  [Commentator 1]:"THIS… IS A SLAUGHTER! BARROW IS IN SHAMBLES!"

  Minute 40Mathias was too dangerous.

  Three Barrow pyers now marked him. Marco even abandoned his position just to shadow him.

  But the monster was still standing.

  Still hungry.

  Still thirsty.

  Duvant had the ball now, stuck on the right fnk with no clear options. Lucien was tightly marked.

  Then suddenly—

  Lucien shouted:

  "DUVANT! FIVE METERS TO MY RIGHT! CROSS IT!"

  The command was like lightning.

  Duvant didn’t hesitate—he swung his foot.

  The ball soared high… toward an empty space where no Barrow pyer stood.

  And from the chaos of defenders… Mathias emerged.

  Like a monster unleashed, he bulldozed through, breaking free with terrifying strength and speed.

  Then—

  He jumped.

  Back to goal.

  The air itself seemed to freeze.

  A BICYCLE KICK!

  An acrobatic strike from 14 yards out!

  The move he had dreamed of ever since Barrow betrayed him.

  All his power focused into one point—the moment his foot connected.

  The ball didn’t just fly—it obliterated time itself.

  No one could even track its trajectory.

  BOOM!

  The net ripped apart from the impact.

  The goalkeeper didn’t even move.

  The stadium fell silent.

  Then—

  Mathias sprinted toward the Barrow fans, sliding on his knees, roaring at the woman in the stands who had once betrayed him.

  The Barrow supporters, enraged, hurled drinks, trash, anything they could—just like the iconic Adebayor celebration against Arsenal.

  This was his moment.

  His revenge.

  His redemption.

  And as his teammates rushed to celebrate with him, one thing was clear:

  The monster had awakened.

  And Barrow would never forget this night.