Floor 68.

X. - War of Shades.

The half-time break was almost over. The Alpha Wolves got out of their locker room as the crowd started cheering and whistling for them. Red Sharks were already in the field, looking confident and proud.

Jeffrey's jaw clenched at the sight of them, his nostrils trembling. One of the other players was looking at him, with a grin. "We're having you on diner, tonight", the opponent player ironically laughed at Jeffrey, crossing his arms around his chest, proud. Jeffrey's blood was boiling; taking a step forward, he was ready to unleash himself upon him and make that stupid proud smile disappear but Chace's hand stopped him.

"Relax man", he advised with a strange calm voice. "He's doing this to disturb you", the captain continued looking at the player, whose name was O'Connell. Chace grinned at him, raising his hand to greet him. O'Connell looked away, confused of this friendly behavior.

"They didn't stop picking up on us!", Jeffrey shouted while his face turned red, highly annoyed. "I'll break his fucking neck if he says another thing".

"If you need any help, I'll be delighted", Duke vehemently smiled at Jeffrey, causing Chace to sigh, frustrated.

"Calm down, Jeffrey. They're doing it on purpose, can't you tell?", he asked tapping his friend's back. "And Duke, shut up man! We're here for one thing, and one thing only; win", Chace talked it out with his teammates, making sure he calmed down before returning to his friends, for last minute advices.

Next minute, the referee's whistle announced the start of the second half time and the teams were back on. Knowing that the score was on their favor, the Red Sharks were more aggressive, they were deliberately hurting the Alphas. Chace was worried that one of his teammates, Duke for example, will get into a fight with the Sharks. May The Lord prevent that, he prayed.

Sky Chambers stood on the tip of her toes, for a better look at the field. There was almost no time left and the referee had about three minutes before declaring the game's end. The score was still on the Red Sharks' favor, with a 15 to 14. This needed to change and quickly.

The air was thick with emotions; expectancy, fear, optimism and faith. Faith that the team is able to turn the balances into his favor and win this. Sky's eyes landed on Chace, just as a opponent knocked him down. DuCarter was a pretentious prick and a total douchebag, but Sky had to confess; the man had talent and the Red Sharks were always on him, trying to badly injure him to get him off the field, because he was a threat. They knew he was skilled and talented and they have been trying since the first whistle. Jeffrey Otton wasn't getting away, neither was Duke Hart. Both of them had light injuries and were smudged with dirt. Looking down at her phone, Sky prayed deep down that someone scores, even if it was Chace, it didn't matter anymore. What mattered now was winning.

She sighed, annoyed when she realized that it was rare, - if not impossible - for a quarterback to score without getting tackled or without passing the ball.

Time was fleeting, and they had to win, they just needed it. Chace's thoughts were racing, he wasn't just a wolf now; he was an eagle, whose eyes were scanning the whole field for an opportunity for scoring.

"I am the wolf!", he kept telling himself again and again. He was on a hunting-spree; the Sharks were probably the kings of the ocean, but here, they were on the Land of the Brave, where the danger roams.

There was no time left, his muscles were hurting and his head was aching. He took too many sacks and the Red Sharks didn't stop hounding him. But all this pain and aching didn't matter, he wanted to win. With one direct look at Duke, he passed his message. This was their opportunity. Instead of spiking the ball, Chace took it over the top of his offensive line for a risky shot. This was it; either this will work, or they will lose. Black or white, no shades, no gray.