An Answer Written in Red
"OHOHOH!"
Howie Roseman, General Manager of the NFL's Philadelphia Eagles, burst out in open admiration as he watched Elijah cross into the end zone.
He was a well-known figure with a reputation for aggressively hunting down college talent. Lately, in particular, he'd judged that the Eagles' style of play paired beautifully with Zero's two-way game, which was exactly why he'd made the trip in person.
"Zero really is something else."
"He cut back at a timing nobody could have predicted. You can see Alabama's players are badly rattled."
The staff members beside him nodded along, each marveling at Elijah's play in their own way.
"He seems to be in top form today. For all that both teams are undefeated, I can't see Alabama beating LSU."
That was Sean Payton, head coach of the NFL's Denver Broncos. Even in the middle of his season, he'd somehow scraped together the time to come watch in person. A Louisianan himself, the same home state as Elijah, Payton had always kept a close eye on the young star.
"Hard to say just yet. If they don't get crushed by the momentum, today's game might come down to the wire."
At that, Ben Irvin of the Dallas Cowboys shook his head, pushing back against Payton's remark.
Payton flashed a knowing smile and asked, "Is that faith in the Red Line talking?"
"You could say that."
"Then today he'll run face-first into his limits. With Zero playing both ways, a one-on-one showdown looks likely, don't you think?"
Payton had already placed Elijah a full step ahead, and Ben fell silent.
Truthfully, there was no reason to let Payton get under his skin, but somewhere along the way, Ben's heart had drifted toward Jaehyuk.
More precisely, ever since he'd scouted the game against the Texas Longhorns in person, Ben had dug into everything about the kid — the life he'd lived, how he'd first come to football, every game record he'd ever put up.
But regretfully, all of Ben Irvin's effort meant nothing to one man.
Arthur Sterling, owner and general manager of the Dallas Cowboys, had little interest in Jaehyuk.
We're America's Team!
In a single sentence: a Korean like Jaehyuk simply wasn't the kind of talent who belonged with the Cowboys.
When Ben, the VP of Player Personnel, heard that, he'd nearly choked on his own frustration.
Even now, if Arthur ever found out he'd come all this way to watch Alabama versus LSU, the owner's reaction was predictable. You went to go see that Korean again?
Thud!
The thought had barely formed when LSU's extra point split the uprights.
Score: 7–0.
Now it was Alabama's turn on offense.
"Show them, Tide!"
"Roll Tide! Roll Tide!"
"Ryan!! Let's pull off a big catch of our own!"
"We believe in you, Ty Simpson!"
"RED LIIIIINE!!"
The stands roared with heat. As the players finally took the field, Roseman rubbed his palms together.
"Now then, shall we enjoy Zero's defensive highlight reel?"
Watching him brim with anticipation, Ben found himself hoping the man's face would crumble.
A few of the people gathered here held out hope for the Red Line too — but every loud voice in the room was cheering for Zero.
Red Line! Please, punch through them!!
Praying with everything he had, Ben turned his eyes to the start of the Alabama Crimson Tide's drive.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Out on the field, Ty Simpson came face to face with the Tigers' burning glare — eyes that looked ready to devour him whole.
But Ty, a senior starting quarterback thick with experience, did not waver.
"Whew."
Just play the way I always play.
The LSU Tigers? No question, they were strong.
But we're a powerhouse too, riding an eight-game undefeated march.
Check the formation...
He scanned the opposing defensive lineup once, and then the offensive coordinator's voice crackled through, delivering a rapid-fire play call.
"..."
For a moment, the noise around him dissolved into white static. But a body drilled through hundreds, thousands of repetitions moved on its own, following the play without needing his mind.
"Black! Falcon!!"
His mouth carried out the call on schedule, relaying it down the line. And yet, somehow, Ty's head felt foggy.
Focus!
He steadied himself, but today, of all days, something was off.
And then, finally...
"Readyyy-! Set! Hut!"
Thud!
The snap slipped through his hands.
A mistake so unlike him that everyone shot to their feet at once.
"Fumble!"
"!!"
"F*ck!"
From the bench to the bleachers, the stadium erupted. The real problem, though, was that the Alabama players on the field with him had been looking forward the whole time and had no idea what had happened behind them.
Which left Ty desperately scrambling for the ball, while the Tigers, eyes locked on the loose ball, charged in more ferociously than ever before.
"GRAAAH!!"
"MOVE!!"
The line collapsed in an instant, utterly overwhelmed. Worse, the Tiger defenders weren't attacking at angles designed to kill the quarterback — they were diving straight for the ball on the ground, which made them far harder to block.
No!
Its odd shape made a football harder to hold than anyone expected — and doubly so when it hit the ground unexpectedly.
Come on! Please!
The more frantically he grabbed at it, the more the ball seemed to slip away, growing only farther from his fingers.
Had he simply been running on empty all this time?
In truth, Alabama had never rotated in a backup quarterback — Ty Simpson had carried every snap alone. It seemed only natural, the obvious call. But under the weight of that punishing campaign and the burden of victory upon victory, perhaps he'd been quietly crumbling without realizing it.
But not now!!
Not here!
This game was, for all intents and purposes, a conference championship. In career terms, it mattered even more than the rivalry game against Auburn.
"Hah!"
The ragged breath of a defender was suddenly upon him. He didn't need to look to know the man was right on top of him.
The ball...
I have to get it!
I can't let them take it!
They'd already swallowed a touchdown on the opening drive. If Alabama gave up possession here too, the game was beyond saving.
"Please...!!"
Ty threw his body at the ball, trying to secure it. His diving frame did cover it — but the shape of the landing sent it glancing off him and bouncing loose again.
NO!!!
A scream built inside his chest — and in that very moment, something flashed into the vision of Ty, face-down on the turf.
Fwoosh!!
A long, rippling crimson line.
No — it was a crimson foot.
And only one player in the entire world moved fast enough to leave a afterimage like that.
Chomp!
Scarlet gloves swallowed the ball.
Then, sliding across the turf, he planted one hand on the ground and — spun!
"Wooagh!"
"Wha—?!"
The charging Tiger defenders, completely fooled by the spin, toppled over one another where they stood.
Flat on the ground, Ty could only stare, dazed, at the dazzling scarlet performance. Seeing the Red Line this close up was a first even for him.
In the blurred reflection inside his visor, Jaehyuk's face was smiling — chillingly, beautifully — as if he were savoring every second of this.
"...!!"
A shiver ran down Ty's entire body. And a heartbeat later, he watched the Red Line tear loose in front of him.
BAM!
The formation had shattered. In the time it took to chase down the loose ball, Tiger defenders were converging from every direction.
But the Red Line planted himself squarely on the nearest defender and drove him into the ground.
The flattened defender flailed, arm outstretched — and caught nothing but air. Using the very force of that shove, the Red Line fell back a step, then took a back pedal to carve out space.
"Ah!"
Ty couldn't just sit and watch. Pushing himself up off the turf, he roared:
"MAKE ROOM!!!"
As if his voice had finally reached them, the linemen who'd been staggering around in the wreckage of the formation snapped back into their blocks.
"RED LINE'S RUNNING!!!! CLEAR HIM A PATH!!!"
Behind Ty, offensive lineman Jayden Roberts bellowed even louder.
The field churned like the middle of a battlefield, players tangled together in total chaos. And at the very center of it all, the Red Line finally found his opening — and took off along the line.
VROOOM—!!
Like a sprinter out of the blocks, he exploded forward, rocketing past player after player in the blink of an eye.
"STOP HIM!!"
"You son of a b*tch! Get BACK here!!"
The Tigers were desperate too, shedding Crimson Tide blockers with everything they had. But the blocking held, and with every step, the red line grew sharper and brighter — like the redline on a car's tachometer, screaming at max RPM.
And he ran toward the end of it.
BAM-BAM!
Too late, the cornerbacks — the third line of defense — came sprinting in to cut him off.
And among them was Zero.
"Hah! Hah!"
Elijah, who'd been chasing a receiver downfield, wheeled back and was showing off his top speed.
Speed against speed. Red Line and Zero collided head-on.
You are NOT getting past me!
As a receiver. As a cornerback. Elijah Larson, whose talent bordered on the absurd, poured every fiber of his focus into Jaehyuk's incoming red trajectory — his breathing, his arm carriage, the movement of his legs, even the angle of his shoulders and hips.
Snap.
Two yards between them.
Jaehyuk's movement shifted, ever so slightly.
"!!"
Nothing escaped Elijah — not even the tiniest detail. He caught the change on pure instinct.
He's planting! It's a cutback!
Reading the opponent through sheer instinct, Elijah matched him, changing his own speed in an instant.
Screech! Screech!
Both men slammed to a stop at the same moment. The sight — like a play rehearsed together — drew a collective gasp from the stands.
Now what'll you do, Red Line?
Anyone else, and that move alone would've beaten them. Not me!
— And the instant he thought it:
Jaehyuk turned his deceleration into a spin, riding the stopping force into rotation.
Elijah read that too. He was faintly impressed, but didn't take the bait. It was a move that would have floored him if this man weren't his enemy.
A spin straight out of a dead stop?! But I won't fall for it.
What mattered was the moment right after the spin.
Another juke move? Or driving forward off the spin?
That motion... it's a drive.
"Not a chance."
Like a starved beast, Elijah lunged — straight at Jaehyuk, who was bursting through the spin without losing an ounce of speed.
But he didn't know.
He didn't know that Jaehyuk had the Gift.
And he didn't know that the path the Gift revealed was never a simple straight line.
TAK!
A sharp, violent sound of a foot slamming into the turf.
For an instant, Elijah thought his ears had deceived him. Then Jaehyuk simply vanished from his field of view, and disbelief bled across Zero's face.
...He jumped?
A hurdle, to be exact.
But he was mid-spin. He was literally mid-spin?
The image assembled itself in Elijah's mind unbidden.
Ballet? No — figure skating?
What was this, the ice rink? A jump, while spinning?! And somehow the hurdle still cleared his tackle by a mile — granted, his own stance had dropped low for the tackle, but still...
CRASH!
Elijah, dumped onto the turf mid-tackle, whipped his head around desperately to look behind him.
And there it was.
A red afterimage, stretched long and burning bright.
"..."
Alabama's safeties still remained in the picture. It didn't matter.
He'd broken through.
For this one moment, every eye in the stadium bent along the curve of his trajectory.
Tap-tap-tap!
And the instant he crossed into the end zone stamped with the Alabama logo, the whistle blew — as if time had finally started flowing again.
TWEEEET!!
"TOUCHDOOOOOWN!!!!!!!"
"THAT'S RIGHT, BABY!!"
"RED LIIIIINE!!"
"WOOOOOAH!!"
"ROLL RED LINE! ROLL RED LINE! ROLL RED LINE!"
"Our savior! Master of a new dynasty! The Red Line!!"
Red Line Kim Jaehyuk.
Once again, a moment where he proved himself to the world — all on his own.