The weeks that followed changed everything.
After Mateo Serrano's breakthrough against Numancia B, the seventeen-year-old academy midfielder became a regular part of Malik's plans. He was still raw, still learning, but he possessed something Malik valued more than experience: courage.
And the team around him was beginning to believe.
Miraflores went on a remarkable run.
Miraflores 2–0 Talavera.
Cultural Leonesa B 1–2 Miraflores.
Miraflores 3–3 Compostela.
Zamora 0–2 Miraflores.
Miraflores 1–0 Ponferradina B.
Five matches.
Four wins.
One draw.
The club that had once looked destined for relegation was climbing the table.
Adrian Vega became one of the league's most dangerous young wingers. Mateo began earning starts. Raúl became the defensive leader Malik relied on more than anyone.
And slowly, the players stopped playing like individuals following a manager.
They started playing like a team.
The Night They Knew
With five matches remaining, Miraflores sat comfortably outside the relegation places.
Seven points clear.
The pressure had changed.
They weren't fighting simply to survive anymore.
They were fighting to prove that everything they had built was real.
After a hard-fought 2–1 victory away from home, the dressing room erupted.
Players screamed.
Music blasted.
Mateo was thrown into the air.
Raúl shouted:
"WE'RE STAYING UP!"
Malik entered and watched them celebrate.
Then he noticed Raúl sitting alone, exhausted.
"You okay?"
Raúl smiled.
"Just tired."
Malik sat beside him.
"When I came here, I thought I'd have to convince everyone to believe in me."
Raúl laughed.
"You did."
Malik looked around the room.
"But they believed before I did."
Raúl became quiet.
Then he placed a hand on Malik's shoulder.
"You gave them something to believe in."
For a moment, Malik couldn't answer.
He simply looked at his players.
These weren't the same players he'd met months earlier.
And he wasn't the same manager.