Nightmare.
LSU quarterback Brandon Harris's nightmare had returned.
After a rocky start in the first four weeks of the season that left the offense under immense pressure, LSU had briefly found their footing with a coaching change, finally catching their breath—only to be dealt another crushing blow today. The hard-won confidence they had painstakingly built was now unraveling in the wind, teetering on the edge of collapse.
His trembling knees betrayed him.
"Brandon..."
"Brandon!"
A voice snapped Harris back to reality. He turned to see Leonard Fournette's sweat-covered face, eyes filled with determination. In the chaos, Fournette's presence grounded him.
"We can do this."
Harris's eyes still wavered. Just moments ago, Fournette had hit a wall. He understood Fournette's fighting spirit, but today was different—very different. The Crimson Tide's defense had been ruthless, unrelenting with their suffocating pressure, allowing no room to breathe.
Fournette noticed Harris's doubt. Having just been tackled by Allen, feeling the humiliation of hitting a wall, his determination burned even hotter. His voice was firm as he repeated himself.
"Trust me, we can do this!"
With a heavy pat on Harris's shoulder, Fournette turned to prepare for the next play.
Failure wasn't an option.
Fournette had never considered Lance a real threat. In his mind, he was the top running back in the NCAA—neither McCaffrey nor anyone else was worth mentioning.
To Fournette, Lance's outstanding performances were just the result of novelty. Since Lance had burst onto the scene this season, NCAA teams didn't know how to defend against him. Once they figured him out, Lance's mystique would vanish, and he wouldn't be a threat anymore.
The LSU defense had proven that in the first half.
But then!
Lance had silenced Tiger Stadium with a brilliant display, and Fournette felt an unprecedented sense of urgency weighing heavily on his chest. His entire demeanor shifted. He had to prove himself.
If Lance could do it, then so could he. No matter the tight coverage or the thorns along the way, he could also use his legs to carve out his own path, just like Lance.
There was no room for hesitation, no place to retreat. He had to put on an even better performance. He had to beat that kid head-on.
For himself, and for the Tigers.
It was that simple.
Fournette took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. He was ready.
But then—
Blitz.
The Crimson Tide chose to blitz.
Clearly, Saban sensed the change in atmosphere. He immediately seized control of the game's momentum. Instead of waiting passively, the defense took the rare initiative, catching the Tigers' offense off guard.
Rip!
The pocket collapsed.
Crimson Tide defensive captain Allen led the charge, streaking toward Harris like a bullet.
Panic set in for Harris. Damn! Damn, damn, damn! Save me! Come on, legs, move faster! Faster! Please save my life!
Harris sincerely believed that if he were sacked now, it would be catastrophic.
But clearly, Harris should've asked for Allen's opinion on the matter.
Allen disagreed.
With a single step, Allen lunged forward like a bear, arms wide, ready to engulf Harris.
"Ahhh!"
Harris, in a full-blown panic, screamed. Desperately, he looked around, spotting a purple jersey. Without thinking, he hurled the ball.
Bang!
The ball had barely left his hand when a crushing force slammed into his chest. He didn't even have time to call for help before his world went dark.
And the ball?
It landed in Fournette's hands.
Fournette stayed calm. Although he hadn't expected the blitz, the adrenaline of the moment fueled him. If he could push through for a first down—or even score a touchdown—he'd save the Tigers like a superhero, emerging as the hero of the day.
The more dangerous, the more desperate the situation, the more precious success would be. The applause and cheers would be all the louder.
Fournette wasn't known for his speed. His strength lay in his powerful, ground-pounding runs. He craved physical contact, thrived on power clashes.
In the first half, both Lance and Fournette had been stifled, unable to break free and find their rhythm.
Now, if Fournette wanted to prove himself, this was the perfect opportunity.
He was more focused than ever before. Strength surged through him, burning brightly as he bulldozed his way forward, plowing through like a battering ram.
One—Bang!
Two—Bang!
Fournette was in the zone. Lance's performance had spurred him into an unstoppable state. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he tore through the Crimson Tide defense, smashing through every obstacle, step by step, layer by layer, with a roar from deep within his chest—
Break! Break! Break!
He was unstoppable, charging ahead relentlessly.
Fournette was fully locked in now, left shoulder leading the way as he barreled forward. He dug in, pushing, exploding, carrying the momentum of a juggernaut that would destroy anything in his path.
Tiger Stadium went wild.
Five yards!
Ten yards!
The home crowd could no longer contain themselves, chanting in unison, "Hold that Tiger!" It was a boastful display of confidence.
"Hold that Tiger!"
"Hold that Tiger!"
The cheers fueled Fournette even more, pushing him into a frenzy. His entire body radiated heat like a war god, breaking through the Crimson Tide defense on pure personal power.
Fifteen yards!
Behind him lay a trail of destruction, as the Crimson Tide's blitz had backfired. They had missed the chance to sack Harris, and now they were scrambling. The defenders in the short pass zones had already stepped up to cover the offensive line, and Saban hadn't forgotten about pass defense, leaving space for Fournette to run.
And so, Fournette kept running, showcasing the full force of his bulldozer-style play, quickly securing a first down—and still going.
At that moment, the defenders from the Crimson Tide's middle and deep coverage zones finally arrived, surrounding the streak of purple like a swarm of white.
A perfect ambush.
But who could stop this Hulk-like force of nature?
Anyone who dared move recklessly could end up like Loki—tossed aside like a ragdoll, with no hope of stopping him.
In that fleeting moment of hesitation, Foster, another Crimson Tide defensive captain, stepped up.
But instead of rushing head-on into a collision, Foster darted out, gaining half a step, then cutting around in a semi-circle to approach from the side.
Dropping his knees and lowering his center of gravity, he aimed to tackle Fournette's waist and legs, using his body weight to throw him off balance and complete the tackle.
Boom!
The collision of power exploded on impact.
At the same time, Foster's right hand targeted the ball in Fournette's grasp, delivering a sharp jab upward.
In the midst of the chaos and clashing forces, with balance and control lost, the entire world seemed to shatter as the brown ball popped loose.
Tiger Stadium, which had been roaring with cheers, instantly fell into stunned silence. Time seemed to freeze.
A fumble.
Fournette had fumbled.
In the next moment, a white jersey streaked in, sweeping up the loose ball like fallen leaves in the wind.
The crowd's fever pitch immediately dropped to freezing cold silence. The entire stadium was left speechless.
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Powerstones?
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