The small chemo room was filled with noise and excitement.

Couches lined the walls in a neat row, leaving the center of the room wide open.

Each couch had a kid on it, an IV drip hanging by the armrest. Some had parents sitting beside them, but most didn't—chemo was long, boring, and today was a Monday. Not everyone could skip work.

Still, every kid's eyes were locked on the doorway, buzzing with excitement and anticipation. No one dared move from their spot though. The IV lines tied them down, and if they all got up at once, it'd turn into bumper cars. So, they stayed put—barely.

Felix was still the only one standing in the center, his IV to his right.

Lance smiled. "Hey, Felix."

All eyes snapped toward Felix, waves of envy, admiration, and joy crashing around him.

But Felix froze, eyes wide. Even though he knew Lance would keep his word, actually seeing him in person—so close—made happiness explode inside his chest.

Lance stepped into the room, took a few steps forward, and looked around.

"Hey, good morning. I'm Lance, running back for the Kansas City Chiefs. I came to visit my friend Felix—and I brought two of my friends along, who also happen to play for the Chiefs: quarterback Patrick Mahomes and tight end Travis Kelce."

Buzz. Buzz buzz.

No one spoke, but you could feel the air vibrating with joy. Kids sat on their couches, hearts pounding like drums, eyes darting eagerly between the three players.

"Of course, Felix's friends are my friends. And that means they're Patrick and Travis's friends too. So—who here's a Chiefs fan?"

Shoop shoop shoop!

Hands shot up. Kids lifted their butts just slightly off the couch, stretching their arms as high as they could—like the higher they reached, the more loyal they were.

But Lance noticed a couple of kids hesitating, glancing at others before raising their hands too.

Lance looked at them and said gently, "It's totally okay if you're not. Not everyone has to like football. You can like baseball, or hockey… or even not like sports at all. I'm not sad. Not even a little. I just need… a moment to recover."

He tilted his head back dramatically and let out a deep, exaggerated breath—

Laughter exploded.

Then Lance looked back down with a huge grin. "So—who here owns a Chiefs jersey?"

Shoop shoop shoop!

Several kids quickly raised their hands again.

Lance raised both his own hands and crossed his fingers. "Please say no. Please, please say no."

"Because today, I brought gifts—Chiefs jerseys."

He looked at the kids with raised hands. "Sorry, looks like you guys already have one… so today might be—"

Their faces dropped instantly, full of sorrow and confusion.

But Lance grinned. "—unless you'd be okay with another one. Same jersey, but this one's signed by all three of us. I know it's not worth millions, but I really hope you'll like it."

One second. Two.

AAAAHHHH!!!

The room erupted. Chemo room or not, it felt like a stadium.

Felix stood stunned, watching it all unfold in disbelief.

Chemo wasn't just boring—it was painful, nauseating, dizzying. A nightmare.

Sometimes, his veins would feel like ice, like his life was slowly being drained out. He'd just sit there, numb and helpless.

That powerlessness—it was soul-crushing.

Every day of chemo was a struggle. From the moment he woke up, his whole body rebelled.

Until the Chiefs' games came on the radio. Hearing those battles on the field gave him energy.

It made the suffering a little more bearable.

At least… he could laugh in the middle of it.

But now, seeing the room full of cheers and laughter—

Felix didn't know what was real anymore.

A smile slowly crept up his face.

But for some reason, his eyes burned with warmth.

"Hey, Felix."

Lance's face appeared in front of him.

Startled, Felix wiped his eyes quickly with his sleeve and flashed a huge, panicked smile.

"Hey, Lance. I didn't think… Thank you for… I mean—thanks."

Words scrambled. Emotions jammed.

But Lance understood.

"Thanks for inviting me, Felix."

Felix froze.

Lance crouched down and looked him in the eyes, nothing but sincerity in his voice.

"I mean it. This city has welcomed me in its own way. You all made me feel like part of your lives, and I'm grateful. So, thank you—for introducing your friends to me."

Felix felt something warm swell in his chest. His heart ballooned with joy, about to burst.

He shook his head. "No. I should thank you. You made me believe… that dreams still exist. And that they can still come true."

Lance lifted his chin slightly. "Then tell me, Felix—what's your dream?"

"To run," Felix answered immediately. "To run like you. To tear through a packed defense like a rogue cutting through traffic."

But as soon as he said it, Felix gave a bitter smile. "That's… a stupid dream, isn't it?"

Bone cancer had taken one of his legs.

Sure, the prosthetic helped him stand and walk. On the surface, he looked fine.

But he knew better.

He couldn't just take off running. He couldn't move like he used to.

That was part of why he admired Lance so much.

He loved watching him sprint across the field, fierce and free.

"Haha, I was just kidding," Felix quickly added, trying to change the subject. "My real dream is music. I want to start a band. Perform at prom. And maybe—someday—play a concert at Arrowhead Stadium. What do you think of that?"

Lance smiled. "I think… it's perfect."

"Running across the field, or standing on stage at Arrowhead—either way, they're amazing dreams."

"Felix, we should all dare to dream. Because what if… they actually come true?"

Felix stared at Lance's smile—

And slowly, his own began to bloom.

There was hesitation. Fear. Doubt.

But…

It bloomed anyway.

And he nodded.

"Yeah," Felix said.

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Powerstones?

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