The corner kick was quickly taken by Connor Davis. He didn’t wait for the defenders to get set. The ball was whipped in toward the back post, curving away from the goalkeeper.

Marcus Price was already moving. He had used a clever pick-play, hiding behind a teammate to lose his marker, Will van Drunen.

[> "PRICE IS FREE!" <] Peter Walsh shouted.

The header was powerful, directed downward toward the bottom corner. It looked like a certain goal.

But Freddie Booth was already diving. His reflexes were at their peak, fueled by the "Focus" buff Eric had seen in the System interface. The keeper got his fingertips to it, a touch so slight it barely changed the ball’s trajectory.

The ball hit the post with a loud *clack* and bounced clear into the six-yard box.

[> "OFF THE POST!" <] Michael Harrison screamed. [> "How did that stay out? The luck is with Northcastle for once!" <]

The rebound fell to Sam Rodriguez. The Hastings left winger was only six yards out, the goal gaping wide. He swung his foot at it, a panicked effort to finish the job.

His follow-up shot was blocked by Jack Stones. The captain threw his body in the way, his chest taking the full force of the ball. He didn’t flinch. He just scrambled to his feet to hunt the loose ball.

[> "BLOCKED!" <] Peter Walsh yelled. [> "Stones with a crucial intervention! That is captain’s defending right there!" <]

The ball bounced loose in the penalty area. Players from both teams rushed toward it, a chaotic scramble of neon boots and white socks.

Alex Morgan got there first. The Hastings center-back, realizing the danger was still real, didn’t try to be clever. He cleared it long, a thunderous kick that sent the ball soaring toward the halfway line.

[> "Cleared!" <] Michael Harrison noted, his voice finally dropping an octave as the tension subsided. [> "Rising Stars survive. That was a two-minute onslaught that could have ended their night." <]

The away fans were on their feet. Their team had just escaped disaster, and they knew it. The small pocket of Northcastle supporters began to roar, their voices unified.

"Come on, Stars! Keep fighting!" they chanted.

On the touchline, Eric Maddox stood perfectly still. His eyes were narrowed, his mind processing the sequence. He saw the gaps in his defense, but he also saw the fatigue in the Hastings players. They had put everything into that attack and failed to score. Now, they would be vulnerable.

Luis Navarro collected the clearance near the halfway line. He used his body to shield the ball from Tom Bradley, holding his ground despite the pain in his ankle. The striker was already looking forward, his eyes scanning for his teammates.

[> "Navarro with the ball," <] Peter Walsh observed. [> "Rising Stars need to capitalize on any given opportunity. They won’t get many more like this." <]

Luis played it to Ishaan Bhatt. The number ten was taking up a higher position, just like Maddox had instructed during the half-time talk. He was no longer dropping deep to help the defense; he was staying in the pockets of space behind the Hastings midfield.

[> "Bhatt further forward," <] Michael Harrison noted. [> "That’s a tactical change from Rising Stars. Maddox is pushing his creative spark closer to the goal." <]

Ishaan turned and faced goal. Jake Thompson was already closing him down, but Ishaan’s first touch took the ball away from the defender’s reach. He looked like he had more time than anyone else on the pitch.

The pass came right to Ethan Suleiman. The winger had drifted inside, leaving the touchline to provide another option in the center.

[> "Suleiman cutting in," <] Peter Walsh said. [> "He’s dangerous from this position. He has that low center of gravity that makes him hard to tackle." <] 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

Suleiman took a touch and looked up. Ryan Clarke, the Hastings left-back, was backing off, afraid of being beaten for pace. This gave Suleiman the second he needed.

He cocked his leg and launched a thunder-strike from the edge of the eighteen-yard box. The shot came from nineteen yards out. It was low and hard, aimed with surgical precision at the near post.

Unfortunately, Ryan Clarke’s stray studs deflected it off course. The ball took a wicked hop, but it moved directly toward the keeper’s position. James Mitchell was down quickly, his hands sure as he smothered the ball.

[> "Mitchell gathers," <] Michael Harrison observed. [> "Routine save for the Hastings keeper in the end, and a timely block from Clarke. If that hadn’t been deflected, it might have been a different story." <]

Mitchell looked up and saw Marcus Price making a run, gesturing for a long ball. But the keeper saw the Northcastle defenders were already retreated. He chose the safer option, rolling it out to Tom Bradley instead.

[> "Hastings keeping it calm," <] Peter Walsh noted. [> "No rush to go forward. They are happy to let the clock run." <]

Bradley played it to Alex Morgan. The center-back had time and space. He looked comfortable, passing the ball back and forth with his defensive partner as they waited for an opening.

Morgan looked up and saw Connor Davis in space. The pass was long but accurate, a diagonal ball that cut through the humidity of the evening.

[> "Davis in space," <] Michael Harrison said. [> "Hastings looking to stretch the game again. They are playing with a lot of composure for such a young side." <]

Davis controlled it and immediately looked for Marcus Price. The striker was already moving, his hand raised to signal for the ball over the top.

The pass was weighted perfectly. It dropped over the heads of the Northcastle defenders just as Marcus sprinted past them. He had beaten the offside trap by a matter of inches.

[> "PRICE IS THROUGH!" <] Peter Walsh screamed.

The striker was one-on-one with Freddie Booth. The young keeper was already off his line, sprinting out to narrow the angle, his arms spread wide to make himself look like a giant.

[> "This could be game over!" <] Michael Harrison shouted. [> "Price has the chance to put his team two goals clear!" <]

Marcus steadied himself. He looked at the goal, then at the keeper. He had all the time in the world. He chose his spot, aiming for the top corner where Booth couldn’t reach.

But Will van Drunen was chasing back with a desperation that was terrifying to behold. The Dutch defender had ignored the burning in his muscles, putting every ounce of his will into his sprint. He was closing the angle, his presence a shadow in Price’s peripheral vision.

Marcus shot early, feeling the pressure. The ball left his boot and began to rise, heading toward the top corner.