The whistle echoed through the tunnel as Yahya Jabrane laced up his boots, eyes focused, jaw clenched. Another big night. Another battle to win.

The locker room buzzed with energy, but Yahya sat quietly in the corner, taping his wrists. Calm before the storm.

"You're too quiet, man," said Amine, tossing him a bottle of water. "You nervous?"

Yahya caught it mid-air. "No. I’m thinking."

"About what?"

He stood, tightening his armband. “How we’re going to break them in the first fifteen minutes.”

Amine chuckled. "You're always thinking like a coach."

Yahya’s eyes flashed with a smirk. “Someone has to. Let’s make them chase shadows tonight.”

Coach called for attention. The room fell silent.

As the team huddled up, Yahya was the last to speak.

“Play with heart. Play for each other. And when it gets tough…” He paused, looking every teammate in the eye. “…we fight harder.”

They walked out to the roar of the stadium. And Yahya led the charge.