The stadium shakes under a storm of cheers—tens of thousands packed into the stands, voices crashing like waves. It’s Blue Lock vs. Japan’s U-20. Pride, future, and ego all on the line. The lights burn bright, the air is thick with pressure, and every breath feels like it could snap.

And in the middle of it all—

Isagi Yoichi controls the ball.

The field opens in front of him—defenders closing in fast, cleats pounding, breath sharp in the air. But he’s already moving. One quick cut to the left, then a burst of speed through the center.

Grass tears beneath him.

The first defender lunges—misses.

The second tries to close the angle. Isagi pivots, letting the ball roll with him, gliding just out of reach. Every step is calculated. Every movement pulled from instinct and vision, not hesitation.

The game narrows into silence.

“This is my chance. My goal. My world.”

His pulse is a roar in his ears.

He breaks through the last line—one defender trailing behind, another collapsing in.

But Isagi doesn’t slow.

The goal comes into view, waiting. The keeper braces. A moment hangs in the air—electric, deadly, alive.

Then his eyes shift.

He sees it.