American Football: Domination

Something felt off—just slightly, but unmistakably off.

Both the Kansas City Chiefs and the Oakland Raiders had entered this game with identical records of 6-6, vying for a shot at the playoffs. They were long-standing divisional rivals locked in a bitter, no-holds-barred feud. On paper, it promised to be a closely fought, electrifying contest.

Even more, their shared history this season—marked by dramatic twists of fate—had added an extra layer of intrigue.

Analysts from Inside the League had largely leaned toward the Raiders, with seven votes to three predicting Oakland would push Kansas City further into their downward spiral.

But then, reality hit.

The Chiefs, teetering on the edge of disaster after a six-game losing streak, had come alive. They weren't just winning; they were dominating. They'd smothered the Raiders with relentless force, leaving their opponents floundering and stunned.

Even Lawson couldn't help but glance skeptically at Bart: Could… divine intervention be at play?

Bart, his veins bulging with frustration, shot Lawson a glare that could cut steel.

The Raiders' offense, once electric, had turned inexplicably lethargic. Derek Carr and Amari Cooper, who had shredded the Chiefs' defense in their previous matchup, were utterly lost against Kansas City's stifling coverage. Pass after pass veered somewhere between laughable and absurd.

The one silver lining? At least there hadn't been an interception—yet.

Meanwhile, Marshawn Lynch, typically a wrecking ball of raw power, seemed directionless. Over and over, he barreled headfirst into a wall. The Chiefs' defensive line locked him down, leaving Lynch looking more frustrated and withdrawn with every failed run.

Kansas City's defense wasn't content to let their offense steal all the glory. Determined to outshine their teammates, they rose to the occasion, taking turns shutting down Oakland's stars.

In their first four drives, the Raiders managed just one first down. That's it. Carr had barely spent five minutes on the field, ushered off almost as quickly as he'd stepped on.

It was a disaster.

Cooper stood fuming on the sidelines, his chest tight with rage. He wanted to explode, but he had nowhere to channel his anger.

Suddenly, chaos erupted near him.

Lance and cornerback Kerry had tumbled out of bounds, still grappling as they skidded across the turf.

Their momentum nearly carried them straight into Cooper.

And that was the spark.

Eyes blazing, Cooper's frustration boiled over. Acting on instinct, he shoved Lance, puffing his chest in challenge.

Lance's reaction was instantaneous.

He clenched his fist, raised it high, and swung forward in a blur.

The surrounding crowd gasped audibly, the collective intake of breath sharp and urgent.

Cooper froze, stunned by the rookie's speed and ferocity. His knees buckled, and his hands instinctively shot up to shield his face.

But the blow never came.

At the last possible moment, Lance's fist veered off course, brushing past Cooper's ear harmlessly. The look on Cooper's face—terrified and trembling—was unintentionally comedic.

With a calm, almost mischievous grin, Lance stepped back.

"Hey," he quipped, his voice steady. "Instead of sulking like a little girl, why don't you try rubbing your two remaining brain cells together and figuring out how to spark some life into your offense?"

Without waiting for a response, Lance lowered his fist and began retreating toward his teammates, who were already gathering around to shield him from potential retaliation.

Cooper stood frozen, paralyzed by shame, fury, and humiliation. What could he do? Any reaction would only make him look even more pathetic.

Only then did it hit him: Lance had a background in mixed martial arts. What if the rookie hadn't pulled his punch?

The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Maybe, just maybe, he should count himself lucky.

"That's a flag! That has to be a flag!" Bart's voice broke the silence, erupting in indignant protest.

All around him, people turned to stare, their expressions dripping with contempt. Even Crosby, the host, couldn't hold back.

"Seriously, Bart? That wasn't even close to a foul. If we flagged that, we might as well be playing soccer."

Bart: …

Though there hadn't been a penalty, the Raiders' defense was livid. Watching Cooper's ineffectual display only fueled their frustration.

For now, it seemed Oakland couldn't rely on their offense to mount a comeback. But their defense? That was a different story.

Despite giving up two early touchdowns, Khalil Mack and his unit had finally shown signs of life. They'd managed to force Kansas City into settling for a field goal on their previous drive, conceding points but stopping the game from spiraling completely out of control.

"0-17."

Now, Mack was determined to do it again. No matter how dysfunctional Oakland's offense had become, he couldn't let the Chiefs run away with the game.

If they could just force a three-and-out, it might be enough to flip the momentum.

Sometimes, all it took was one play to change everything.

Mack's eyes zeroed in on Lance.

Pride comes before the fall.

As Mack watched Lance's swaggering demeanor, he vowed to teach the rookie a lesson he wouldn't forget.

And, for a moment, it looked like Mack might succeed.

The Raiders' defense tightened, building on their earlier success. Although the Chiefs pushed into Raiders territory, their progress was anything but smooth. Three first downs came only after grueling battles, with two of those coming on third-down conversions.

Mack, meanwhile, was relentless.

Finally, his efforts paid off.

Rushing off the edge, Mack blitzed into the backfield like a wrecking ball, smashing through the Chiefs' offensive line.

He laid a heavy hit on Alex Smith, disrupting the quarterback's throw. The pass sailed high, narrowly avoiding being intercepted by Bowman.

Kansas City faced 2nd and 10.

Mack ignored the fallen Smith. As he turned to walk back to the line, his gaze locked on Lance, who was helping his quarterback to his feet.

Through his helmet, Mack's glare seemed to burn with unspoken words:

This is the price of taunting the Raiders.

Lance met his glare evenly, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a subtle smirk.

Fine, Lance thought. Let the Raiders bring the heat. Anything less would be boring.

Kansas City had tried to surprise Oakland with a pass on 1st down, only to see the play blow up in their faces. Now, on 2nd and 10, they needed to decide whether to stick with the passing game or shift to a run.

Smith scanned the defense, while Lance studied the alignment.

Mack and the linebackers were telegraphing their intentions clearly. They were ready to blitz.

The air grew taut with tension.

"Attack!"

Smith's command rang out.

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Powerstones?

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