"Dad!"
"Mom!"
Lance sprinted forward, his calves trembling, his knees weak and shaky. As he lunged forward, just when he was about to regain his balance, he saw Alan open his arms.
In a flash, Lance didn't resist—he simply stepped into it.
A hug.
Honestly, Lance wasn't used to hugs, especially not with the parents of this tiline.
But at this mont, a hug felt like the right, the best way to celebrate.
Alan was a little stiff, too—Lance could feel the muscles tense awkwardly.
Yet after a mont's hesitation, Alan, like a rusty machine, patted Lance's back lightly, and all his overwhelming emotions ca rushing in at once.
"Good job," Alan said.
Thousands of words condensed into just those two simple words.
As soon as he finished speaking, Alan grew flustered, quickly pulling away, avoiding eye contact to hide the surge of emotions.
Lance hardly noticed—because Sue was already stepping up, grabbing Lance's chin and inspecting him carefully.
Startled, Lance yelped, "Mom!"
Sue didn't pay him any mind.
A beat later, Lance realized she was studying the scar on his forehead.
"Mom, I'm fine. I actually forgot it was even there."
It was true.
Focused entirely on the ga, tension wound tight until the final second, adrenaline pumping nonstop—he had completely forgotten the injury.
But Sue wasn't convinced.
"Does it hurt?"
Her tone, her gaze—like she was speaking to a seven-year-old. Lance sighed inwardly, a little helpless.
"No, really. It doesn't hurt at all."
Still, Sue's brows knitted tightly.
"Be careful. Don't let it scar."
Lance joked, "No worries. A scar might make look cooler—maybe I'll get even more love confessions."
Sue shot him a fierce glare but couldn't stay stern for long. She gazed at him again, and finally, a smile blossod at the corners of her mouth.
"It was a magnificent ga," she said.
Just a few words—but they carried so much emotion, so much weight, that Lance felt his chest tighten.
"The results are in!"
"The MVP of Super Bowl LII is... Lance!"
"WOW!"
"The Kansas City Chiefs' No. 23, running back Lance, is nad MVP of the ga! No surprise at all! He wins with overwhelming support, writing yet another chapter in history!"
"This rookie running back proved his regular-season brilliance was no fluke—and with an astonishing performance, he single-handedly influenced the outco of the championship battle, showing a king's composure."
"Rushing 107 yards, receiving 101 yards, and scoring three touchdowns—Lance becos the first player in Super Bowl history to break 100 yards both rushing and receiving."
"And not just that—he also completed a 30-yard touchdown pass, a perfect ga-sealing play as spectacular as any Hail Mary."
"Comprehensive. Dominant. Calm. Focused. Brave."
"Despite being just a rookie, despite switching from MMA to football only two years ago, Lance has already shown off his talent and skills, and ti and ti again, he's proven his champion ntality in crucial monts."
"Tonight was no exception."
"With a near-perfect performance, Lance tead up with Eagles quarterback Foles to deliver the most thrilling, historic Super Bowl ever—and led the Chiefs to their first title in half a century."
"After narrowly missing the regular season MVP, Lance finally receives his well-deserved MVP honor at the Super Bowl."
"There's no doubt—this MVP award is absolutely deserved."
"And now... we can't wait to see what Lance will do next season."
"Maybe, just maybe, a new era has begun."
Brady: "Shut up!"
(You don't have to say anything if you can't be respectful.)
Click.
The TV shut off abruptly.
Brady jumped to his feet, fury and fighting spirit roaring to life.
Good. Very good.
They had successfully awakened a sleeping dragon—now they could deal with the consequences.
Yes, the Patriots had been beaten by the young Chiefs this postseason.
Yes, New England was on the verge of massive changes—defensive coordinator Matt Patricia was headed to the Lions as head coach, offensive coordinator Josh McDaniels was in talks with several teams.
Key players' contracts were expiring, and a full rebuild lood.
But!
The New England Patriots were champions to their core.
Even if they had to start from scratch—even if the team was rebuilt from the ground up—they would rise again.
As long as Belichick and Brady were there, the dynasty's soul would remain unbroken.
No one was getting a vacation this offseason.
Sowhere, Gronkowski shivered inexplicably: "What the hell?"
"Tom?"
Gisele Bündchen called out, seeing her husband fully geared up, heading for the door.
Without even looking back, Brady said, "I'm going to the gym."
Slam!
The door slamd behind him.
Gisele stared, stunned for a mont, then shook her head and smiled helplessly.
She picked up the remote and turned the TV back on.
The Super Bowl trophy ceremony had begun.
The Vince Lombardi Trophy was being carried onto the field.
Nad after the legendary coach who led the Packers to victories in Super Bowls I and II, the trophy embodied ultimate football glory.
On the field, the Chiefs players, staff, families, and a sea of dia crowded around the trophy, reaching out eagerly to touch it, even if just lightly—to feel the weight, the warmth, the reality of the championship.
"Lance..."
Through the deafening roar, a hand patted Lance's shoulder.
He turned away from goofing around with Mahos, abandoning his chance to touch the trophy, and looked over.
It was a familiar face—Eric Berry.
Leaning on crutches, Berry was clearly struggling to stand, but his face was alight with excitent.
Lance's smile widened.
"Captain! Want to co forward? Take my spot, I'll make way for you!"
Berry laughed and waved him off.
"No need. No rush. I'll have plenty of chances in the future."
The team would keep the trophy—it would always be in their honor room.
Berry would have many chances to touch it.
Berry opened his mouth to say sothing—
But a fresh wave of screaming drowned him out.
Still, he didn't give up.
He had wanted to say it at the mont of victory. Lance had been too busy, and Berry hadn't wanted to interrupt.
But he didn't want to wait until tomorrow.
Looking straight at Lance, Berry shouted with all his strength:
"Thank you."
Lance froze.
Berry continued:
"Thank you for keeping your promise."
No matter what, Berry had wanted to say it personally.
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Powerstones?
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