The whistle wasn't a whistle. It was a low, resonant gong that made the entire liquid surface shiver.
The ball slid across the final meter and slipped into the goal—a circular vortex that swallowed the starlight with a soft, satisfied glub . Super Liquid Soccer
The gong sounded again. The liquid field rippled, reset, and waited for the next dreamer brave enough to dive in. The whistle wasn't a whistle