Soccer System: All the Skills, One Player!

The second half began with intensity. It was a Youth UEFA League match. Nobody was willing to lose, especially Dortmund, as they had the upper hand and were the favorites. It wouldn't be a good way for them to start the competition.

Dortmund tried to impose their pace from the first few minutes, but Felix was everywhere. He intercepted passes, tackled with surgical precision and still found time to guide his teammates. Lucas, alongside him, complemented the pressure with an impeccable reading of the game, while Denis dictated the pace when possession was regained. Enjoy new tales from empire

In the 48th minute, Felix disarmed Dahoud once again, prompting the German midfielder to let out a frustrated cry. He quickly played the ball to Denis, who controlled the ball with an elegant touch and raised his head, looking for options.

Miguel broke clear on the right, and Raphael, although limping slightly, tried to create space on the left. Denis opted for a quick pass to Lucas, who, as he spun over his marker, impressed the small crowd in the area.

"That's it, Lucas! Go!" shouted Eddie from the technical area, gesturing for the team to move forward.

Lucas found Miguel free on the right. The winger dominated, cut inside and took a shot. The ball went narrowly wide of the post, prompting a collective gasp from the stadium. Even without the goal, Brighton dominated the action, suffocating Dortmund and controlling the midfield with mastery.

Soon, a rehearsed move almost paid off. From a corner taken by Lucas, Luiz Fernando rose higher than everyone and headed the ball firmly into the net. The ball seemed destined for the net, but Dortmund's goalkeeper made a miraculous save to keep it out. The Brighton players raised their arms in disbelief, but soon returned to their positions, determined to continue.

Then the moment that would change the tone of the game happened.

Denis received a pass from Felix in midfield. He had two opponents surrounding him, but he trusted in his ability. With a subtle touch, he tried to escape the pressure, but one of the Dortmund players expected his move. The two collided in a firm but clean tackle. Denis fell immediately, and the sound that came out of his mouth chilled the blood of everyone around him.

"AHHHHHH!"

Lucas turned on the spot. Denis' scream was unusual. It was visceral, full of pain and despair. He ran over to his teammate, followed by Felix and the other players.

Denis held his ankle with both hands, his face contorted in agony.

"Denis! Denis, look at me!" said Lucas, kneeling down next to him. "Breathe, man. It's going to be okay."

But Denis couldn't answer. He just screamed again, closing his eyes so tightly that he seemed to erase the pain through willpower.

The referee stopped the game immediately, calling the medics.

Eddie, in the technical area, put his hands on his head, his expression a mixture of concern and helplessness.

The doctors arrived quickly. One of them put a hand on Lucas's shoulder and said: "Stand back, kid. We'll take care of it."

Lucas begrudgingly stepped back, watching as the doctors assessed Denis. His ankle seemed unusually sprained, and they quickly signaled for the stretcher. Denis continued to moan, although the screams had subsided into sobs of pain.

"It's serious, isn't it?" Felix asked Lucas, his voice low.

Lucas nodded, his eyes still fixed on Denis. He had never seen a teammate suffer such an injury. The scene shook him more than he wanted to admit.

When Denis was carried off the pitch, even his opponents applauded him. The Brighton players were visibly affected, but Lucas knew he had to take charge of the situation.

"Listen up!" he said, calling out to his teammates. "Denis is going to be fine. But it's up to us now. We need to keep fighting for him. Let's stay focused and play with even more desire. Understood?"

The players nodded, although the dejection was clear on their faces.

Eddie quickly made a substitution, bringing on Javier in place of Denis. The Spanish midfielder came on with a determined expression, clearly aware of the responsibility he was taking on.

"Javier, stay organized. Support Lucas and Felix, but don't expose yourself too much," said Eddie from the sidelines.

As the game resumed, Brighton tried to find their rhythm again.

Javier, although talented, was still out of sync with the rest of the team, and Dortmund exploited this vulnerability.

Dahoud, who had been stifled by Felix and Lucas at the start of the second half, found more space to operate. He distributed passes, looking to speed up the game down the flanks.

In the 65th minute, Dortmund almost scored. Bruun Larsen received a deep pass and crossed low into the middle of the box. The opposing striker shot first time, but Anton once again shone. With a point-blank save, he kept Brighton in the match.

Daniel ran up to Anton and tapped him on the shoulder. "You're unbelievable, man! Let's turn this around!"

Anton smiled slightly, but his eyes showed absolute concentration.

The match remained even, with chances for both sides. Brighton, although shaken by the loss of Denis, showed resilience.

Lucas increasingly took on the responsibility of leading the team, distributing passes, guiding his teammates and fighting for every ball as if it were his last.

In the 75th minute, a promising move emerged. Felix intercepted a pass in midfield and quickly played it to Lucas. He advanced, dribbling past two defenders before opening up for Raphael on the left. The winger crossed into the area where Arthur could head in. The ball looked destined for goal, but again the Dortmund goalkeeper made an impressive save.

Denis' injury had shaken Brighton deeply, not just because of the technical loss, but because of the emotional blow it had dealt to each of the players. Lucas knew this. He could see it in the faces of his teammates, in the quick glances, the restless hands and the hesitation in every movement.

Felix, always a pillar of security, looked tense, as if the weight of the midfield was now entirely on his shoulders. Raphael limped slightly, but tried hard to keep contributing, even with the tiredness on his face. Arthur, the center forward, gestured with frustration, complaining about balls that didn't arrive with the precision. And Javier, Denis' replacement, seemed to carry the weight of the world on his back, as if he felt he had to prove his worth with every touch of the ball.

Lucas observed all this when the ball went out from the back, giving him a moment's pause. He took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts. He knew the team was crumbling emotionally and, as captain, he felt a responsibility to prevent this from happening.

'They're nervous,' he thought. 'Each in their own way, but they're all feeling the pressure. This can't go on. If we lose control, Dortmund will crush us.'

He looked around. Eddie, in the technical area, was shouting instructions, but Lucas knew that, right now, the coach's words weren't enough. It was on the pitch between them that something needed to change.

With his gaze fixed on his teammates, Lucas decided it was time to act.

The ball was thrown towards him. He took it calmly, using his chest to cushion the impact before letting it slide smoothly onto the pitch. The muffled sound of leather against his boot echoed in his ears, and at that moment, time seemed to slow down.

Lucas raised his head. In front of him, the Dortmund players were positioning themselves, ready to press him. But he was in no hurry. He felt the weight of the ball under his feet and let the world around him return to normal speed. The team needed stability, and he would be the anchor.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Calm down..." he muttered to himself, as if his words could reverberate with the others. "We need calm."

He turned his body slowly away from the nearest marker and made a safe sideways pass to Felix. The midfielder received the ball, but hesitated for a second, clearly torn between going forward and protecting. Lucas saw the doubt in his teammate's eyes and stepped forward.

"Felix!" he called, firmly. The midfielder looked at him. "Trust the game. We're in this together."

Felix nodded slightly, and Lucas received the ball again, this time already looking for a new solution. He looked at the other players. Raphael was open on the left, but looked unsure. Miguel on the right was surrounded, and Arthur was between two defenders, almost isolated.

"Think." said Lucas to himself. "They need something simple, something that reminds them of what we can do."

He gave a short touch to Javier, who immediately returned the ball, as if to get rid of it. Lucas stopped and looked at him. The young Spaniard avoided his gaze, but Lucas knew he had to give him confidence.

"Javier, don't be afraid. Play simple. I'm here with you."

The young man nodded, although he seemed suspicious of himself. Lucas smiled slightly and made a long pass, reversing the play to Miguel on the right. The ball traveled the length of the pitch with precision, and the winger controlled it well. It was exactly what Lucas wanted: a moment of clarity, a break from the tension.

Miguel advanced down the flank, tried to cross, but a defender deflected the ball for a corner. As they walked into the area, Lucas said to his team.

"Listen to me. We need to pull ourselves together. Play calmly. If you can't go forward, go back. Let's keep the ball, breathe and do what we know. They're waiting for us to lose control. We will not give them that."