Chapter 79 – Crowning Glory
The floodlights blazed above the pitch like captured stars, their white-hot glow cutting through the São Paulo night. Confetti rained down in torrents of green and white, swirling in the air like a hurricane of celebration, each piece catching the light before settling on the grass. Smoke cannons erupted near the stands, great plumes of emerald and ivory billowing into the sky, while the stadium speakers thundered with a triumphant samba rhythm—though no one could hear it over the deafening roar of the Palmeiras faithful. Their voices shook the very foundations of the Neo Química Arena, a sound so immense it seemed to press against Thiago’s chest as he stood there, breathing it all in.
On the hastily erected stage at midfield, the team gathered in a tight, sweaty circle. Coaches, staff, players—everyone who had bled for this moment. Eneas stood with a rare smile tugging at his usually stern features, his arm slung around Rafael’s shoulder. He wasn’t a man prone to joy, but tonight, the pride in his eyes was unmistakable. He looked every bit the victorious general surveying a hard-won battlefield.
Thiago stood at the heart of it all, his skin still slick with sweat, his muscles singing with exhaustion. His hair clung to his forehead in damp strands, his legs heavy as lead, his lungs still burning from the relentless second-half surge. But his heart?
It was full.
Nando approached, his eyes glassy, the tension between them long since burned away in the fire of their comeback. He bumped Thiago’s shoulder, then held it there for a second longer than usual, his grip firm.
"You saved us," he muttered, voice rough.
Thiago shook his head. "We saved each other."
Rafael, the captain, stepped forward to receive the gleaming Campeonato Paulista trophy from the Federação Paulista official. The silver cup caught the floodlights, its surface so polished it seemed to glow. The weight of history hung in the air—decades of rivalry, of pain, of glory, all distilled into this moment.
Rafael turned, his face alight with something fierce, and raised the trophy high—
BOOM.
The explosion of noise that followed nearly swallowed the world. Fireworks burst overhead, painting the sky in emerald streaks. The stands trembled under the force of forty thousand voices screaming as one.