American Football: Domination

Arrowhead Stadium: …Huh?

A touchdown pass from Mariota to Mariota—what just happened?

Even Revis, a ten-year veteran in the league, was completely dumbfounded. It all happened in the blink of an eye, too fast to react—

From offense to defense, the Kansas City Chiefs were caught between frustration and disbelief, struggling to find the right words to describe what had just transpired.

Lance was no exception.

At a glance, Lance immediately noticed Henry's awakening—the intensity in his eyes, the burning determination. Though he, too, was caught off guard by Mariota's absurd play, he quickly recognized the danger:

A turning point.

Just like their home game against the Oakland Raiders, a single touchdown, a breakthrough, or even a lucky play could shift momentum. Now, the Titans had the chance to flip the script, and the Chiefs needed to stay alert and composed.

Without hesitation, Lance approached the defensive unit, exchanging high-fives and offering words of encouragement.

Especially to Revis.

Lance didn't say much. He simply gave Revis a reassuring hug and patted his back. That small gesture, however, made Revis pause.

After the defense, he moved on to the offense, chatting and laughing with Kelce, subtly easing the tension that had settled over the team, trying to refocus their minds.

They needed to concentrate on themselves.

But that was easier said than done—

First, Kansas City's repeated playoff failures, particularly their five consecutive home losses, had embedded a deep-seated doubt within the team. The moment adversity struck, ghosts of past collapses resurfaced.

Even in the Reid era, the Chiefs had yet to escape this nightmare.

Second, this Chiefs team lacked a true killer instinct.

From Smith at quarterback to the team's overall playing style, there was a lingering hesitancy, a lack of ruthlessness. The younger players, including Lance, lacked experience, and motivational speeches alone wouldn't be enough to turn the tide.

And let's not forget—

Offensive coordinator Nagy was calling the plays. He was still green, lacking the experience and adaptability needed to make the right adjustments under pressure.

So, despite Lance and Kelce recognizing the game's pivotal moment, their efforts weren't enough to completely steady the team—

Kansas City's focus wavered. There were no major mistakes, and the offense continued to move the ball, but their execution wasn't as crisp as it had been in the first half. The fluidity was gone.

Momentum was shifting.

Then—

"Henry!"

"Derrick Henry! Wow, Henry's power is on full display, bulldozing through two defenders for a massive gain."

"Incredible!"

"Henry is still going! Tackled! Kansas City's secondary isn't letting up, but—oh my! Henry breaks free! He barrels through the Chiefs' red zone defense like a wrecking ball, leaving chaos in his wake!"

"Touchdown!"

"Henry with a sensational 35-yard touchdown run!"

"What a display of classic, smashmouth football—tough, relentless, no-nonsense power running! Henry is proving that Tennessee's ground game is in safe hands even without Murray."

"With sheer determination, Henry turns a second-and-five into a touchdown! The Titans are closing the gap!"

…

"Oh, ohhh!"

"Decker!"

"Titans receiver Eric Decker comes up clutch with a huge catch, showing flashes of his prime days with Manning in Denver. After being nearly invisible all game, this one moment might just be the key to Tennessee's comeback."

"22-yard touchdown pass!"

"Mariota finally connects with a receiver—one that isn't himself!"

"This game… wow."

"Kansas City's red zone defense remains stout, forcing Mariota into uncomfortable situations. But Mularkey is adapting, choosing to attack from beyond the red zone, striking from 20, even 30 yards out."

"And now, it's paying off!"

"The Titans take the lead."

The stadium fell into stunned silence.

Since Mariota's self-passed touchdown, Tennessee had outscored Kansas City 19-0 in the second half, completely flipping the game on its head.

22-21.

The Titans were in front.

And those numbers—what's going on?

Mularkey had gone all-in, opting for two-point conversions after both of Tennessee's recent touchdowns. However, as the commentators noted, the Chiefs' red zone defense was airtight. With Mariota's erratic passing, neither attempt had any real chance of success.

As a result, Tennessee only gained six points from each touchdown.

Mularkey had gone rogue, fully embracing the role of a desperate gambler, playing with reckless abandon.

Before the game, rumors swirled that the Titans' front office had already decided to fire Mularkey, regardless of the outcome.

That meant his only shot at keeping his job was winning. If the Titans kept advancing in the playoffs, he could buy himself more time—maybe even change ownership's mind.

So, when an unexpected opportunity presented itself, Mularkey seized it.

Tennessee had flipped the game. They had Kansas City on the ropes.

Arrowhead Stadium collectively held its breath, hearts pounding in unison, teetering on the edge of panic. Nightmarish memories flooded back, and the roaring passion of moments ago was suddenly swallowed by an eerie, suffocating silence—

Was history repeating itself?

At Old Oak Tavern, nobody spoke.

Anxious, bewildered faces stared at the TV screen.

No one even had the energy to be angry anymore—

Provois' words echoed in their ears.

And when Kansas City's offense went three-and-out yet again, surrendering possession back to Tennessee, despair struck like a thunderclap.

Bart: Oh yeah! I told you. I told you all along!

A single rookie running back wasn't enough to change the playoffs.

This is football—not basketball, not soccer.

Bart stared at the broadcast, eyes locked onto Lance, and finally, he felt vindicated—

His prediction had been right. His analysis, his expertise—it was finally proven correct!

At this moment, Bart actually felt a twinge of sympathy for Lance.

In his first professional season, experiencing such extreme highs and lows, only for it all to end in such a brutal fashion—this was a ruthless welcome to the league.

It was harsh. Too harsh.

But—

This was the NFL.

There was no mercy here.

Welcome to the league, rookie.

A smirk crept onto Bart's face.

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Powerstones?

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