Chapter 3: Shadows Over Dortmund
The train rattled along the Rhine's edge, carried by the hum of diesel engines and the muted chatter of passengers. Through the window, twilight draped the German countryside in purples and deep blues. Joshua sat beside Isagi and Kaiser, their backpacks at their feet, breathing in the cool air as they neared Signal Iduna Park—home of Borussia Dortmund, their destination for Bastard München's away fixture.
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I. Pre-Match Rituals
Arriving at the stadium precinct, Joshua felt the cavernous stands press upon him even from the outside. Towering floodlights loomed like watchful guardians, and the scent of freshly laundered kits and turf drifted through the concourse. Inside the away locker room, the team's black-and-red jerseys hung neatly. Noel Noa moved among the players, offering words of encouragement in his quiet, authoritative tone.
"Komm schon, Junge," he said to Joshua in German, clapping him on the shoulder. "Zeig, was du kannst—show them what you've got."
Isagi, summoned into the tactical room alongside the coaching staff, watched the opponent's heat maps and passing lanes projected on the screen. He tapped rapid notes to his tablet: Dortmund's left-back favored high presses; their central midfielder drifted toward the wing space between old Noa's zone and Joshua's flanks. His insights, delivered in clipped English, drew nods from Coach Richter and the club's analytics director.
Meanwhile, Kaiser joined Joshua in the hallway. The two shared a respectful nod. "Let's make this count," Kaiser murmured. "For home, for family."
Joshua clenched his fists. "Together."
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II. The Battle Unfolds
The referee's whistle sliced through the roar of 60,000 roaring Dortmund fans. Bastard München, clad in their dark third kit, stepped onto the pitch under a canopy of yellow and black banners. The first whistle sent them surging into action.
From the outset, Dortmund pressed hard. Their winger, Fleet Müller, charged Joshua along the touchline, battering him with rapid jabs and cunning feints. Joshua grit his teeth, recalling Isagi's advice: "Force him onto your right—then cut inside." The moment arrived at ten minutes: Müller lunged to Joshua's left; Joshua faked then spun right, bursting past the marker. He drilled a low cross that clipped the shin of Dortmund's center-back and ricocheted into the net for an own goal. The away section erupted in delirium.
On the sidelines, Noel Noa cracked a rare smile. "Excellent," he muttered.
But Dortmund struck back swiftly. Their captain, Lukas Becker, unleashed a 25-meter rocket that arrowed into the top corner, past the outstretched fingers of Bastard's keeper. The scoreline leveled, tension rippling through the stadium like live wires.
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III. Tactical Shifts
At half-time, in the dim glow of the locker room, Richter barked instructions. "They're compact in midfield; we need width. Yoichi, use your speed to stretch them. Kaiser, track the runner behind the striker. And Isagi—your adjustments on pressing zones were spot on. We'll apply your 3–4–3 overload on the left."
Isagi stepped forward, heart pounding. "If we press Müller deeper, the left flank opens. Joshua can exploit the space behind their full-back. Then switch play back quickly to the right. The overlap from Prince in midfield will create the overload."
Richter nodded approvingly. "That's the plan."
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IV. Turning the Tide
Early in the second half, the team executed Isagi's tactic to perfection. Joshua darted into the vacated left channel, Prince shifted wide, and the ball whipped back across the box—landing at Noel Noa's feet. The Bastard captain took one touch, flicked it to Kaiser in support, and unleashed a thunderous drive that crashed off the underside of the crossbar and in.
1–2. Bastard München reclaimed the lead.
As the final quarter ticked down, Dortmund threw numbers forward. Joshua found himself one-on-one again with Müller. But this time, he feinted left, stepped right, and surged past his man before squaring for Kaiser, who slotted coolly home.
1–3. The away fans erupted.
In the dying minutes, Dortmund scored a consolation—another long-range missile. The match ended 2–3, a hard-fought victory that felt monumental.
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V. After the Final Whistle
Exhausted and elated, Joshua collapsed to one knee as the whistle sounded. Noel Noa embraced him, lifting him briefly off the turf. In the analysis box, Isagi pumped his fist, while Kaiser beamed. The tactical gambit had paid off; the brothers had proven themselves under the brightest German lights.
Later, in the locker room, Noel addressed the squad. "You showed heart tonight—strategy and spirit. Yoichi, Kaiser, Isagi—you've earned your places here. The road ahead is long, but remember this: giants are made by facing giants. Well done."
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VI. A New Chapter in Brotherhood
That night, back in their dorm rooms, Joshua, Isagi, and Kaiser gathered around a small table littered with notebooks and match reports. Over steaming mugs of hot chocolate, they recapped the thrills of the evening: Joshua's decisive runs, Kaiser's unyielding defense, Isagi's pinpoint tactical adjustments.
Joshua looked at his brother and friend. "Tonight wasn't just about goals—it was about us," he said. "Together, we can challenge any giant."
Isagi smiled, tapping his pen. "Next up: preparations for the Celtic match. I've drafted the heat maps already."
Kaiser laughed. "Never a dull moment, eh?"
They raised their mugs in silent salute, three souls bound by ambition and blood. Under the Munich skyline, they forged a new family—one that would soar on fields of grass and battle under stadium lights.
Their journey had only just begun.
End of Chapter 3