American Football: Domination

Berry hadn't watched a Chiefs game in a long time.

Not because he didn't care—quite the opposite. He cared too much. He wanted to follow every move, every play, every struggle.

When the team was stuck in that brutal losing streak…

When the media was tearing Lance apart…

When the locker room was rumored to be divided…

Every single time, Berry had wished he could be there.

Not because he thought he could single-handedly fix everything—he wasn't that arrogant—but because he wanted to stand with his teammates, fight with them.

That was his team. He was one of them. He wanted to win and lose together.

But that kind of mindset was dangerous.

It could break his mental balance, make him impatient, make him desperate to return too soon—ruining his rehab.

So he had forced himself to step back.

To focus on himself.

To block out the noise.

To not watch the games.

But today, that wall shattered.

Completely.

"…That message appears to be for Chiefs defensive captain Eric Berry."

"This season, Berry's Achilles injury left Kansas City's secondary under immense pressure. Yet, the Chiefs have found a way to move forward, still marching ahead—waiting for their leader's return."

"This is a Christmas gift."

"Wow… just, wow…"

"Folks, with that 12-yard rushing touchdown, Lance has just made NFL history on Christmas Day 2017."

"1,810 rushing yards. 20 rushing touchdowns. He officially surpasses Eric Dickerson's 30-year-old rookie rushing record, setting a new standard for running backs in the Super Bowl era."

"Lance—a rookie. A fighter who transitioned from MMA to the NFL in just two years. An Asian-American athlete—the first-ever first-round Asian player in league history. Facing doubt and controversy every step of the way… and yet, he's done this."

"And that's not all!"

"Lance hasn't just broken the rookie rushing record—he's also positioned himself to lead all running backs this season in major statistical categories."

"Currently, Lance sits at the top of both the rushing yards and rushing touchdowns leaderboards. Behind him? Rams' Todd Gurley, a close contender—but the gap is significant."

"Heading into this week, Gurley had 1,190 rushing yards and 11 rushing touchdowns. Unless he delivers an unbelievable two-game explosion, there's simply no way to close the gap."

"In other words, with one full game still left to play, Lance has essentially locked in both the rushing title and the rushing touchdown title."

"Of course, Gurley isn't without his strengths—his dual-threat ability has been outstanding. With 677 receiving yards and 6 receiving touchdowns, the Rams' star remains a top contender for Offensive Player of the Year."

"But…"

"Lance is making history. As a rookie, he's lighting up the league."

"There's no question—he's the clear frontrunner for Offensive Rookie of the Year. And honestly? He deserves a seat at the table for the MVP conversation as well."

"And now? Lance dedicates this touchdown to Eric Berry—'We're coming.' I don't know if there's a deeper story here… Maybe it means, 'Playoffs, here we come?' Either way, this is an incredible moment. Look at that—the entire Chiefs roster is gathering around him…"

Berry knew exactly what it meant.

It was a bet.

A promise between him and Lance.

Playoffs?

No.

Super Bowl. They were coming.

Through all the struggles, setbacks, and storms…

They had found their way back.

Unstoppable.

Unexpectedly, Berry felt a warmth crash into his chest.

His vision blurred.

He tried to compose himself.

Then—

One by one, his teammates started lifting their jerseys.

Underneath, every single one of them had on the same white undershirt.

The same message.

We're coming.

Not just Lance.

The whole team.

It had been planned. Whoever scored the first touchdown was supposed to reveal the message.

This wasn't just from Lance.

It was from all of them.

Their captain wasn't forgotten.

He was part of this fight.

Berry lost it.

All the frustration, the isolation, the self-doubt, the long nights wondering if he'd ever be the same again—

None of it mattered anymore.

Even Alex Smith—Alex Smith!—had joined in.

Berry knew Smith well. He was quiet, disciplined, rarely joked around—a textbook team-first guy.

And yet?

Even Smith had lifted his jersey, standing with the team.

Clearly, he had intended to slip away unnoticed. But now? His teammates had surrounded him, cheering, teasing, laughing.

Smith's entire soul looked like it had left his body.

Berry couldn't hold it in—he burst out laughing.

And then—

Arrowhead Stadium erupted.

"Berry!"

"Berry!"

The chant roared through the air.

It crashed through the TV screen.

It shook the hospital walls.

It rushed into every heart in the room.

The people in the hospital lobby turned to each other.

Hospitals weren't places for loud noise—patients needed rest, doctors and nurses needed focus. Even the TVs were usually kept at low volume.

Chanting was absolutely not allowed.

But—

They saw each other's smiles.

And then, quietly…

They joined in.

No sound. No noise.

Just silent lips moving in unison.

"Berry."

"Berry."

There were no voices, but there was energy. There was connection.

And for one magical moment—

It was as if hope itself filled the room.

It was as if, for just a little while, they could forget their pain.

Forget their struggles.

Forget their battles.

For one fleeting instant—

They believed in miracles.

Berry stood there, hands clenched into fists, chest burning with emotion.

He wasn't done.

He wasn't giving up.

He was going to fight.

Because that's what life was.

Not just football.

Life.

A battle. A challenge. A test.

You fight.

You struggle.

You push forward no matter what.

And you live with no regrets.

Berry took a deep breath.

Tears still shone in his eyes. But he didn't wipe them away.

He let them stay.

Then—

He turned to White, eyes burning with something fierce.

"Let's go, James. We've got work to do tomorrow."

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Powerstones?

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