But in the corner of the screen, for just a second, two tiny numbers flickered—7 and 9—before vanishing forever.
And in the center of the pitch, wearing the same stunned expression, was Marcus.
The rules appeared in the air like burning text: Play forever. Lose once, and your flicker feeds the wall.
Leo tried to step back. His feet were glued to the grass. Marcus tried the same. Neither could move.
The results were zero.
The ball appeared at Leo’s feet. It was not leather. It was a heart. Still beating. He could feel its pulse through the laces.
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