The Flight Boys jogged back onto the field for the second half, but something was different. While the rest of the team looked rejuvenated by Taylor's halftime speech, Tristain was completely silent. No words in the huddle, no encouragement to teammates, no pre-snap chatter. Just cold, focused eyes that seemed to see everything and nothing at once.
But behind those eyes was something darker—a cold fury that had been building since Warren Central's first touchdown celebration.
You want to embarrass us? You want to dance on our dreams? I'm about to show you what happens when you wake up a killer.
Marcus noticed it first. "T, you good?"
Tristain didn't respond. He simply lined up behind center, his body language radiating a dangerous calm that his teammates had never seen before.
Time to break their fucking hearts. Time to show them what real champions look like.
Third Quarter
1st and Goal from the 25
Tristain took the snap, light on his feet. Warren Central rolled into soft Cover 2.
Perfect. Let's test them underneath.
Marcus exploded off the line, cleats tearing chunks from the turf as he drove upfield. At 15 yards, he planted his right foot hard, feeling the spikes bite deep into the grass. But he caught the linebacker drifting underneath—so he snapped his route deeper to 18, his left cleat sliding as he made the sharp break.
Marcus's POV: Adjust. Dyce'll see it. Plant and go deeper.
His hands came up instinctively as he turned back toward the quarterback. Tristain's spiral was already cutting through the air—Marcus caught it with both hands at chest level, securing the ball against his body before tucking it away.
These motherfuckers think they've already won. About to ruin their whole season.
Marcus tucked it in, turning upfield before a defender applied a two-hand touch.
COMPLETION. 18 yards to the 43-yard line.
From the sideline, Deshawn whistled. "That's psychic shit, bro!"
First of many. These bitches are about to learn.
1st and Goal from the 43
Warren Central stayed in Cover 2. Tristain shifted his eyes, predatory and calculating.
Y'all forgot Deshawn exists? Cool. About to make that safety look stupid.
"Trips right. Deshawn, post."
Deshawn grinned. "Say less."
Deshawn burst off the line like a sprinter, his cleats digging deep grooves in the artificial turf. At 12 yards, he chopped his feet rapidly—left, right, left—then exploded inside on the post route. His right cleat found perfect traction as he cut, leaving the safety stumbling.
Deshawn's POV: Money. All day. This corner's about to get cooked. Just gotta run past this dude.
The ball arrived in perfect stride. Deshawn extended both arms, catching it with soft hands at the 20-yard line, immediately tucking it high and tight against his shoulder as he turned upfield.
Look at that safety's face. He knows he just got embarrassed on national television.
Deshawn turned upfield, tagged two-hand touch at the 15.
COMPLETION. 28 yards to the 15-yard line.
1st and Goal from the 15
Warren Central's coaches screamed adjustments. Tristain just stood there, staring through them.
Call all the timeouts you want. You're fucked. Can't scheme against perfect execution.
Elijah powered off the line, his 6'4" frame creating immediate leverage over the smaller cornerback. He drove straight upfield for 12 yards, then planted his left foot and broke hard toward the corner of the end zone. His cleats sprayed turf as he made the cut.
Elijah's POV: That's a baby next to me. Too easy. About to make this look effortless. Just gotta high-point this.
The ball came in high and outside. Elijah leaped off his right foot, extending both arms skyward at the peak of his jump. He secured the ball with both hands above the defender's reach, then dragged both feet inbounds as he came down.
Elijah just made that safety look like a fucking child. This is too easy.
Two-hand touch at the 3.
COMPLETION. 12 yards to the 3-yard line.
1st and Goal from the 3
Warren Central stacked everyone inside, expecting another pass.
Cool. Let's run it. Show them we can beat them any way we want.
Snap. Tristain faked the quick throw, then tucked and slipped left. Pure footwork. He planted, slashed across a defender's face, and crossed the line untouched.
TOUCHDOWN FLIGHT BOYS. 21-7.
First touchdown of many. About to turn this into a fucking massacre.
Tristain flipped the ball to the ref and jogged away. Silent. Sideline going berserk.
Warren Central's Response - First Cracks
Torres jogged out, sweat darkening his shirt. The Flight Boys' sideline was a wall of taunts.
"WHAT HAPPENED TO ALL THAT CELEBRATING, HUH?" Deshawn yelled.
1st and Goal from the 25
Snap. Torres fired to Williams on a comeback. Jamal Williams jumped in, slapped the ball away.
Jamal's POV: Nah, bro. Not today. This ain't practice anymore.
INCOMPLETE PASS.
First crack in their perfect little system. Watch it all fall apart.
2nd and Goal from the 25
Torres pump-faked. Tried the slot on a seam. Xavier Banks read it perfectly, diving to tip it away.
From Xavier's POV:Read that shit like a book. These dudes are shook.
INCOMPLETE PASS.
Sideline howled. "NO FLY ZONE!"
Their timing's off now. Pressure's getting to them.
3rd and 10 from the 25
Torres scanned, jittery. Dumped it short. Malik Johnson swooped in, tagged two hands on the receiver after five yards.
From Malik's POV:Desperation throw. They're panicking.
4th and 5.
Warren Central punted for the second time.
Marcus shook his head, grinning. "The mighty Warriors… punting. That's cute."
Now they're punting. The mighty Warren Central, reduced to punting. This is just the start.
---
Tristain walked in at the 20. No words. Just death in his eyes.
1st and Goal from the 20
Warren Central rolled into man coverage. Tristain didn't blink.
Adjust all you want. I see everything you're doing three plays before you do it.
Terrell released from the backfield, his cleats finding grip as he accelerated through the gap between the linebacker and safety. At 8 yards, he planted his right foot and broke toward the sideline, creating immediate separation.
Terrell's POV: Easy money. Linebacker can't cover me. Just catch and run.
Tristain's pass arrived as Terrell reached the 12-yard line. He caught it with both hands at waist level, immediately tucking the ball against his left elbow as he turned upfield, showing the shiftiness that made him dangerous in space.
Terrell just embarrassed that linebacker. Made him look like he's never played football before.
18 yards later, Terrell finally got tagged at the 38.
COMPLETION. 18 yards to the 38-yard line.
1st and Goal from the 38
Warren Central crept up. Tristain licked his lips.
Perfect. Time to kill them over the top and break their fucking spirits.
Marcus exploded off the line again, this time selling the hitch route with Academy Award-level acting. He slammed on the brakes at 8 yards, turning back toward Tristain and even reaching his hands up slightly. The cornerback bit completely, lunging forward.
That's when Marcus planted his left cleat and took off downfield like he'd been shot from a cannon.
Marcus's POV: Dyce just gave me the dagger. This corner's about to get sent home. He's already three steps behind.
The deep ball came floating down like a prayer answered. Marcus caught it over his right shoulder in full stride, both hands securing the ball at the 20 before he even looked at the end zone. Pure route-running artistry.
That cornerback just got sent to the shadow realm. Marcus cooked his ass.
TOUCHDOWN FLIGHT BOYS. 21-14.
Marcus pointed at the DB. "SHIT IS SWEET."
Tristain just walked back to the sideline.
Two touchdowns in eight minutes. About to make it three.
---
Torres came out rattled. Sweat dripped down his neck.
1st and Goal from the 25
Snap. Torres checked Williams again. Devon Carter jammed him, knocked the timing off. Ball skipped incomplete.
Devon's POV: Not letting you get comfortable. Every route's going to be a battle.
Their timing's completely off now. We're in their heads.
2nd and Goal from the 25
Torres forced a deep ball. Xavier Banks read it like a picture book.
Xavier's POV: Thanks for the free possession, boss. That was gift-wrapped.
DIVING INTERCEPTION at the 30.
Another pick. These clowns are completely falling apart.
Only interception Warren Central would throw all day? Not even close. Sideline blew up.
"CHA-CHING!" screamed Deshawn.
Flight Boys' Third Drive - Taking Control
Tristain lined up at the 30. Silent as ever.
1st and Goal from the 30
Time to step on their throats. No mercy.
Deshawn released from his position and immediately started his double move. He drove hard inside for 6 yards, then planted his right cleat so violently that turf exploded around his foot. The cornerback flew past him as Deshawn broke back outside to the comeback route.
Deshawn's POV:These DBs are lost. Don't even know where I'm going. That boy just got his ankles broke.
The ball arrived as Deshawn turned back. He caught it with both hands at shoulder height, immediately pulling it into his chest as he absorbed contact from the recovering safety.
Deshawn just made that cornerback look lost. They're playing scared now.
22 yards later, two-hand touch at the 8.
COMPLETION. 22 yards to the 8-yard line.
1st and Goal from the 8
Timeout Warren Central. Tristain just stared at the grass.
Take all the timeouts you want. You're about to get embarrassed on national television.
Elijah attacked the line of scrimmage, using his length to get an immediate release past the linebacker's jam attempt. He drove straight up the seam, his cleats churning turf as he accelerated past the 15-yard line.
Elijahs POV:Linebacker trying to cover me? That's disrespectful. About to make this boy look silly.
The ball came in perfectly placed between the linebacker and safety. Elijah leaped off his left foot, extending both arms high above his head. He caught the ball at the peak of his jump with both hands, then brought it down to his chest as he landed in the end zone.
TOUCHDOWN. FLIGHT BOYS TIE IT. 21-21.
Tied game. About to take the lead and never look back.
Sideline ERUPTED.
Fourth Quarter
As the fourth quarter began, Tristain was operating in a zone that transcended normal football. Every throw was surgical, every decision was perfect.
Warren Central's Third Drive - Panic Mode
Torres tried to rally, but his confidence was shattered.
1st and Goal from the 25
Snap. Quick out. Jamal Williams dove and tipped it incomplete.
Jamal's POV:They're throwing scared now. Forcing everything.
Their quarterback's shook. This is what pressure does to pretenders.
2nd and Goal from the 25
Torres scrambled. Malik Johnson tagged him for a loss.
Malik's POV:Running for his life. We broke their offense.
3rd and 18 from the 33
Torres dumped it short. Flight Boys rallied to tag.
PUNT.
Taylor howled: "WE'RE IN YOUR HEAD!"
Look at their offensive falling apart. Can't protect their golden boy anymore.
---
Tristain jogged on at the 25. Still silent, still perfect.
1st and Goal from the 25
Time to take the lead and crush their dreams for good.
Marcus burst off the line on the vertical route, his cleats finding perfect traction as he accelerated past the 10-yard line. The safety was backing up, but Marcus had already built too much separation. At 25 yards, he turned his head back.
Marcus's POV:Perfect ball. That safety's got no chance. Just gotta track this beauty down.
The ball was already in the air, floating high and soft. Marcus adjusted his route slightly left, caught the ball over his outside shoulder with both hands, then immediately secured it against his chest as the safety arrived for the touch.
COMPLETION. 35 yards to the 40-yard line.
Marcus just ended that safety's career. Poor kid doesn't even know where he is.
1st and Goal from the 40
Jaylen exploded out of his slot position, his cleats gripping the turf as he angled across the formation on the drag route. He wove between two defenders, his compact frame allowing him to slip through traffic like water.
Jaylen's POV:Ball's coming hot through three defenders. Trust those hands. Been catching bullets all season.
The pass screamed toward him through a narrow window. Jaylen caught it with both hands at his chest, absorbing the impact from the closing linebacker as he twisted his body to maintain control of the ball.
Jaylen just made that linebacker look like he's running in quicksand.
COMPLETION. 25 yards to the 15-yard line.
1st and Goal from the 15
Red zone. Time to put this game away.
Terrell released from the backfield, initially heading toward the flat before planting his right cleat hard and breaking upfield on the wheel route. His sudden change of direction left the linebacker grasping at air.
Terrell's POV:Linebacker trying to cover me in space? That's a mismatch. He's already lost.
The ball came floating over his shoulder as he ran stride for stride with the goal line. Terrell caught it with both hands without breaking stride, his momentum carrying him across the line as he cradled the ball against his chest.
TOUCHDOWN. FLIGHT BOYS LEAD. 28-21.
Terrell just embarrassed that linebacker. Made him look like he belongs in JV.
Tristain turned away as teammates mobbed Terrell.
---
Torres tried once more, showing some life.
1st and Goal from the 25
Snap. Quick slant. Complete for 7.
From Williams's POV: Finally got one. Need to build on this.
2nd and 3 from the 18
Snap. Seam route. Complete for 8. First down.
1st and Goal from the 10
Snap. Fade route. Williams hauled it in just inside the line.
From Williams's POV:Had to fight for that one. We're still alive.
TOUCHDOWN WARREN CENTRAL. 28-28.
Sideline buzzed: "We got a game."
Cute. Let them have hope. About to crush it completely.
---
2:47 left. Tristain lined up. Silent. Unblinking.
1st and Goal from the 25
Time to end this. Time to crush their dreams completely.
Marcus powered off the line, selling the inside route with a hard step left that made his cleats scrape against the turf. The cornerback bit on the fake, sliding inside. That's when Marcus planted his right foot and broke back outside, creating instant separation.
From Marcus's POV:Corner bit on the fake. This is over. Boy's three steps behind already.
The ball arrived perfectly placed to the outside. Marcus caught it with both hands away from his body, immediately tucking it high and tight as he turned toward the end zone.
COMPLETION. 20 yards to the 5-yard line.
Marcus just made that cornerback his bitch. Again.
1st and Goal from the 5
One play away from ending their season.
Jaylen lined up in the slot and immediately attacked inside, his cleats digging into the turf as he sold the slant route. The linebacker took a step toward him. That's when Jaylen planted his left foot hard and pivoted back outside, his sudden change of direction creating a window.
From Jaylen's POV:Perfect ball. Right in the breadbasket. These hands don't drop nothing.
The ball came drilling toward him, low and hard. Jaylen caught it with both hands at his waist, pulling it into his chest and crossing the goal line before the defender could react. Pure slot receiver perfection.
TOUCHDOWN. FLIGHT BOYS TAKE THE LEAD. 35-28.
Jaylen just scored like it was practice. Because for us, this is practice.
Jaylen spiked the ball, roaring: "WAKE THE FUCK UP, MIDWEST!"
---
Torres scrambled for gains. Completed two short outs, getting to the 15-yard line.
From Torres's POV:Still got time. One play to tie it.
Clock bled out. Last play, fade to Williams… tipped away by Xavier Banks.
From Xavier's POV:Game over. Dreams crushed.
BALLGAME.
The Perfect Execution
FINAL: FLIGHT BOYS 35 — WARREN CENTRAL 28
Tristain finally exhaled. Voice low, cold as ice.
"That's what happens… its either you or us."
The statistics were staggering:
Tristain's Second Half: 15/15, 378 yards, 4 TDs, 0 INTs
Perfect execution when it mattered most. Not a single incomplete pass.
Marcus had been equally dominant: 8 catches, 156 yards, 2 TDs in the second half.
Scouts were already dialing phones.
"Kid went perfect in the second half," whispered a Big Ten scout. "That's not human. That's the truth."
Marcus draped an arm over Tristain.
"Don't ever scare me like that again, bro."
Tristain smirked. First time he'd smiled all half.
Game. Set. Match. Dreams crushed. Season ended.
The Flight Boys had completed one of the greatest comebacks in tournament history, and Tristain had done it with surgical precision and cold-blooded execution. Warren Central's perfect season was over.
This wasn't just a comeback—it was a statement. The Flight Boys weren't just talented; they were ruthless when they needed to be.