The locker room was quiet.
Coach Navarro's post-match speech had been short.
"We're getting closer. Don't mistake that for good enough."
The room emptied fast after that. Soren stormed out first. Kenji followed, towel around his neck. Musa gave me a nod and a shoulder tap before heading toward the exit.
I stayed behind, still in my boots.
Still feeling that pass.
The one that changed everything — and still wasn't enough.
---
Outside, the moon was rising over the Academy towers. The pitch lights dimmed to a soft blue. I started walking back to the dorms… until I heard a voice behind me.
> "You dropped your water bottle."
Elira.
I hadn't dropped anything, but I didn't call her out on it.
She handed me the bottle with a smile like she'd planned this whole encounter.
---
We sat under the observation deck, back against the wall, watching the replay on her tablet. The footage was clean — academy tech.
She'd clipped my entire performance.
"You see this?" she said, pausing on the 64th minute. "You hesitated here. Just for a second. But your body moved before your brain caught up."
"Yeah."
> "You didn't decide the pass. You felt it."
I nodded. "System triggered. Said it needed instinct."
Elira blinked. "System?"
I shrugged quickly. "Coach's visualization drills. You know how he is."
She nodded slowly, her eyes still searching mine.
"I don't know what it wants next," I added before I could stop myself.
Elira raised a brow. "It?"
I coughed into my hand. "The training. The tempo. Whatever."
She looked at the screen again. "You know what stood out? Not just the vision. The tempo."
"Tempo?"
She zoomed in — different camera angle. Slowed it down.
"This whole match was fast and erratic. Everyone chasing the ball like it was on fire. Except you... right here."
She played a five-second clip. I had the ball. Three defenders swarming. I didn't panic. Didn't rush.
I slowed.
A shoulder drop. A subtle shift. The ball stayed glued to my foot.
And then I passed.
"You bought space with stillness," she said.
I blinked. "That's… poetic."
She smirked. "That's Berbatov."
---
> [SYSTEM ANALYSIS COMPLETE]
Player Trait Detected: Dimitar Berbatov – Effortless Control
New Challenge Available.
My vision blinked. A screen hovered quietly in the corner of my eye.
> ⚠️ GOAT Challenge: Still Waters
Maintain control under pressure for 30 seconds
Zone: 8x8 meters
Defenders: 3
Fouls = Restart
Style bonus: Calmness | Footwork | Minimalism
Success unlocks:
🔹 Trait: First Touch of Silk (Berbatov)
🔹 Skill: Pedri Pulse
> Greatness doesn't sprint. It breathes.
---
I accepted.
I slipped into the academy's 3D sim room — lights low, walls humming. The air shifted as the environment booted up.
Elira waited just outside, watching through the glass as I configured the settings manually… or at least made it look that way.
The system synced instantly, masking itself behind the academy's interface. No questions asked.
Three defenders spawned inside the zone — tight space, full pressure.
I cracked my neck and stepped in.
Whistle blew.
---
⚽️ Challenge Attempt 1
I panicked.
Tried to dribble. Got poked. Restart.
---
⚽️ Attempt 2
Tried a feint. Turned. Knocked too far.
Restart.
---
"Elira," I muttered, breathing heavy. "What do you do when the space feels too small?"
She didn't even pause. "You make it bigger with your body. Control the tempo. Make them react."
I nodded.
One more try.
---
⚽️ Attempt 3
I stood still when the whistle blew.
Let the defenders come.
One reached. I shifted my weight — slow. My left foot cushioned the ball like it weighed nothing. I rolled it behind me. Spun. Shielded.
Didn't rush.
Let them chase shadows.
I counted breaths. Listened to footsteps. Used my frame, my hips, my angle.
Time slowed.
> 12 seconds…
19 seconds…
25…
One more lunge. I slipped between them.
> 30 seconds. ✅
---
> 🟢 Challenge Complete.
Trait Unlocked: First Touch of Silk (Berbatov)
Skill Unlocked: Pedri Pulse
"You now control the rhythm."
I exhaled — not because it was over.
Because something had changed inside me.
---
Elira stood, brushing dust off her pants. "Whatever that was..."
"Just training."
She didn't press. But she smiled, soft and curious.
Then walked off — heels clicking gently on the pavement.
And I stayed there, alone, knowing this was just the beginning.