Limitless Pitch
Chapter 52 – Chain Reaction

Chapter 52: Chapter 52 – Chain Reaction

The floodlights above Allianz Parque still burned, throwing long shadows over the pitch as Thiago walked back toward the bench—not with swagger, not with exhaustion, but something else. Something quiet. Like the eye of a storm that had already passed, and the heat still rising from the earth.

He didn’t celebrate much. The team had already swarmed him after the third goal. Even Nando, stiff and silent all season, had patted his shoulder, offering no words but a nod that said what pride never could.

But now the adrenaline drained from his legs, and the weight settled back onto his frame. Not burden, but truth. The game had asked everything of him—and he had answered.

When he sat down, he barely noticed Eneas’ look from the touchline. The coach didn’t speak. Just a slow inhale, the briefest of gestures—thumb brushing his chin, eyes steady. Measured approval.

The match ended 3–2.

Palmeiras victorious.

But long after the whistle, long after the cameras stopped chasing the miracle comeback, Thiago stayed seated in the changing room, boots unlaced but not removed. The echo of the crowd still thundered in his chest.

He checked the System—not out of curiosity, but because he already knew it would be there.

It came like ink across glass:

SYSTEM QUEST COMPLETED

You’ve made your mark. Now forge it into legacy.

Reward:

+1 Acceleration

+1 Decision-Making

+1 Vision

+1 Ball Control

New Quest Unlocked: "Chain Reaction"

Contribute to 6 more goals before the end of the Campeonato Paulista season.

He blinked the display away, heart still slow, but firm.

In the shower, steam rose and softened the world. Around him, players joked, laughed, cursed in relief. Nando kept his distance. Rafael gave him a quiet fist bump on the way out. Eneas gave a short speech to the room—praising the fight, warning against complacency.

Not once did he mention Thiago by name.

And yet every eye had followed the performance.

Later that night, Camila called. Not just a message. A real call.

"I saw it."

He was lying on his bed, lights dimmed, boots by the door like offerings to a saint.

Her voice crackled with restrained excitement.

"That third goal, Tico... that wasn’t just talent. That was something else."

"I was just—"

"—present," she finished. "You were there. Every moment."

He let silence fill the gap. Not the awkward kind. The kind that meant something was being felt on both ends.

"I couldn’t hear the noise," he said quietly. "Not during."

"Because it wasn’t noise anymore," Camila whispered. "It was rhythm."

He smiled. A small one. The kind that doesn’t need to be seen to be real.

They spoke for twenty minutes more. About the game. About Clara, who apparently screamed so loud during the third goal that their neighbor banged on the wall. About the banner still taped to the inside of their apartment window.

Camila promised to visit again soon. This time, she said, not just for an afternoon. A weekend, maybe. Something more real. The idea of her in São Paulo again—outside the stadium, not just in voice—lit a small lantern inside him.

By midweek, training resumed. The victory didn’t slow Palmeiras down. If anything, it tightened things. The coaches had tasted the full reach of the squad, and Eneas began tweaking lineups, rotating players in drills with more precision.

Thiago noticed something else too.

Space.

Not on the field—but around him. The way people stood when he walked into the locker room. The way defenders reacted when he received the ball in tight drills—more urgent, more alert. And the way some of the other subs, the fringe players, watched him now—not with disdain, but with unspoken questions.

He was no longer "the kid with potential."

He was the player who just pulled Palmeiras from a pit with three goals in thirty minutes.

But the strangest reaction came from Nando.

During a half-pitch training match, Thiago received a pass and turned sharply, gliding past his marker. The ball was poked away just before his shot. He turned to reset—and there was Nando beside him.

"You always shoot low?" Nando asked, breath even.

Thiago blinked. "Sometimes. Depends where the keeper leans."

Nando gave a tight nod. "Second goal—clean. I’d have gone near post."

"You would’ve missed," Thiago replied before he could stop himself.

Nando smiled. A real one.

"No. But maybe next time, I’ll pass to you instead."

Thiago didn’t answer. The game moved on. But something shifted.

Not friendship.

But recognition.

That evening, João messaged him. Voice note.

"Bro. THREE GOALS? You’re nuts. I screamed in the bus. Coach thought I pulled a hamstring. You better bring some of that heat when you visit."

Thiago replied with a short clip of his goal replay, edited to show João’s old celebration dance after the third one.

João: "No way. You remember that?"

Thiago: "Never forgot it."

João: "That’s why you’re still rising. All of us believed it. But you—man, you live it."

Another piece of the weight inside Thiago lifted.

He called his mom next.

She didn’t say "I’m proud." She didn’t need to.

She just said: "Clara made you a drawing. It’s you, scoring three goals. You have no mouth in it. But she said you don’t need one—you let your feet talk."

Thiago laughed. "Put it on the fridge."

"It’s already there."

That night, the city hummed with distant car horns and the low rumble of a world spinning too fast. But in his room, Thiago sat with his knees drawn up, watching the stars vanish behind clouds.

He pulled the System back up—not to check his stats. But to remind himself of the quest.

CHAIN REACTION

Contribute to 6 more goals before the end of the Campeonato Paulista.

Reward:

+1 Vision

+1 Ball Control

Perk: Anchored Presence

Improves physical resistance and balance in duels, especially when shielding or jostling for space.

He read it once.

Then twice.

He didn’t smile this time either.

Not because he wasn’t happy.

But because he knew it was just the beginning.

At training the next morning, Eneas gave him no special attention. No extra praise. But he put Thiago in the main group. Not just as a winger—but rotating him centrally, switching sides, testing combinations.

The message was clear.

Earn it again.

The fire hadn’t gone out.

It had just begun to spread.