The stadium is still vibrating. The air is electric.
Robin pulls his spare shirt back on. The yellow card is waved in his face. He doesn't care. He laughs at the referee. He winks at the crowd.
4-3. Minute 90+2.
The fourth official holds up the board. 5 Minutes Added Time.
North Wall just needs to survive.
Kick-off.
West Hall Town doesn't look like a team trying to equalize. They don't look like a team playing football anymore. They look like a gang looking for a fight.
Prince picks himself up off the turf. He brushes the grass from his knees. He doesn't look at his teammates. He doesn't look at the ball.
He looks at Robin.
His eyes are dead. Cold. There is no anger there anymore. Just intent.
"Be careful!" Martin screams from the sideline. "Move the ball! Don't hold it!"
Robin hears him, but the adrenaline is a drug. He feels invincible. He is the King. He just scored a hat-trick. He just destroyed the Butcher. What can they do to him?
Minute 90+4.
The ball is cleared to the sideline. Robin chases it down. He should kick it into the stands. He should shield it in the corner.
But he's Robin Silver.
He controls it with his chest. He turns. He wants to beat Prince one more time. He wants to end the game with the ball at his feet.
He sees Prince coming. A steam engine gathering speed.
Too slow, Robin thinks. I'll just touch it past him.
He waits. He baits the tackle. He pushes the ball forward.
Robin plants his right leg to push off. To sprint.
Prince doesn't slide. He doesn't tackle.
He launches.
Two feet off the ground. A scissors motion. Full body weight.
He isn't aiming for the ball. He isn't aiming for the ankle. He is aiming for the shin.
Time slows down.
Robin sees it coming. He tries to lift his leg. He tries to jump.
But his studs are caught in the turf. His foot is planted. Anchored.
CRACK.
The sound is louder than the crowd. It sounds like a dry branch snapping in a quiet forest. A sickening, wet pop.
Robin hits the ground. Hard.
For a second, there is no pain. Just shock. He tries to scramble up. He tries to stand.
Get up. Play on.
He puts weight on his right leg.
It collapses. It bends where there is no joint.
And then... the scream.
It rips out of his throat, primal and terrifying. It's not a scream of anger. It's a scream of pure, white-hot agony.
"Oh no! Oh no! Look away! Do not look at that replay!" The commentator's voice cracks, panic seeping in. "That is horrific! That is a assault! Prince has gone right through him!"
The stadium goes silent. Instantly. Five thousand people, silenced by the sound of a bone snapping.
Doyle is the first one there. He sees Robin's leg. He sees the angle.
Doyle turns pale. He vomits on the pitch.
Then, Doyle snaps. He throws himself at Prince. He punches the big defender in the face. A brawl erupts. Louis Mendez is shoving West Hall players. Martin is sprinting onto the pitch, ignoring the technical area, ignoring the rules.
Prince stands there. He takes the punch. He doesn't fight back. He just looks down at Robin, writhing in the grass.
The referee is waving the red card. It doesn't matter. It's a piece of plastic. It doesn't fix the bone.
Medics are sprinting. The stretcher is out.
Robin is on his back. The pain is a living thing, eating him alive from the knee down. The sky is spinning. The floodlights are blurring into streaks of white fire.
"Robin! Robin, look at me!"
It's Martin. The coach is kneeling beside him, holding his head. Martin's face is pale, his eyes wide with fear. "Don't look at the leg. Look at me. Breathe."
"My leg..." Robin gasps, tears streaming down his face, mixing with the sweat and dirt. "My leg... I heard it..."
"It's okay. It's okay," Martin lies. His voice is shaking.
They strap him to the board. They lift him up.
The crowd begins to clap. A slow, respectful, terrified applause. Even the West Hall fans are clapping.
Robin can't hear them. The world is fading into a tunnel of gray static.
He looks at his leg, strapped down, immobile.
He knows.
He doesn't need a doctor. He doesn't need an X-ray.
The season is over.
The hat-trick. The glory. The noise.
Gone.
As they carry him into the tunnel, into the dark, Robin closes his eyes.
Snap