Thud!
The sound of Rafael Montenegro's strike echoed across the stadium, a deep, resounding impact as his boot connected with the ball. It wasn't just a shot—it was a cannon blast, an exclamation of raw power and precision.
The ball rocketed off his foot, cutting through the air like a missile. The crowd collectively held its breath as it spun violently, carving a path toward its inevitable target.
Ryan Callum's instincts took over. He launched himself to his right, his fingers outstretched, eyes locked onto the ball's trajectory. But it was too fast. Too precise. The ball was already past him before he could fully extend his reach.
It slammed into the underside of the crossbar with a deafening clang, the metal frame rattling from the sheer force. For a fraction of a second, time seemed to freeze. The ball ricocheted downward, bounced off the ground, and then—
Rippp!
The net billowed violently as the ball buried itself in the back of the goal.
