De la Fuente nodded to himself, pleased with the way the message was landing.
"These next few days, I don't want you to think about the pressure. I don't want you to think about the expectations. I just want you to remember one thing."
He looked around the room, making sure every single player met his gaze.
"We deserve to be here."
A beat passed.
"Now let's make it count."
No cheers erupted. No dramatic responses. Just a deep, collective understanding.
This was their moment.
And they weren't going to waste it.
...
As the meeting ended and the players rose from their seats, Izan remained still, his hands resting on his knees.
A strange weight settled in his chest—not nerves, not pressure, but something deeper. A presence.
Then, it happened.
A pulse, like a silent tremor through his body, neither painful nor overwhelming, but undeniable.
The edges of his vision flickered, and for a brief moment, the world felt sharper—clearer.
[System Notice: Title Unlocked]
