The next few days were a blur of pain, sweat, and obsession.
Every waking moment I wasn't at school, I was at Court 7. The rundown arena became my sanctuary. My world shrank to the size of that dusty, zero-g cube. My only companions were the rattling training drone and the silent, judging system in my head.
I practiced the Power Shot until my muscles felt like frayed ropes and my stamina was a distant memory. Each shot was a battle, a struggle to sync my mind's perfect blueprint with my body's clumsy reality.
Slowly, the skill's proficiency began to climb.
[Power Shot (Basic) - LVL 1 (1% Proficiency)]
[Power Shot (Basic) - LVL 1 (5% Proficiency)]
[Power Shot (Basic) - LVL 1 (17% Proficiency)]
The shot became more consistent. The tiny ball of Aether I could summon grew slightly larger, slightly more potent. But it was still weak. A pop gun in a world of cannons. The problem remained my abysmal Aether Control stat. The system gave me the perfect recipe, but I was trying to cook a feast with a single, pathetic matchstick.
Still, it was something. It was mine.
The day of the official tryout registration, I had to return to the lion's den: the Westwood High arena.
Walking through the polished, chrome doors was like stepping into another dimension. The air was crisp and clean. The lights were bright, reflecting off the gleaming surfaces. A massive scoreboard hung from the ceiling, displaying pro-league highlights. This was a temple built to power and money. It made Court 7 feel like a forgotten tomb.
Other hopefuls were already on the court, warming up. I saw familiar faces from the scrimmage. And, of course, I saw Jax.
He was effortlessly blasting shots at the goal, each one hitting with a deafening CRACK that echoed through the arena. He was showing off, a peacock displaying his feathers. And everyone was watching, mesmerized.
I felt like a ghost again. I found a corner to stretch in, trying to stay invisible. But my presence didn't go unnoticed for long.
Coach Valerius walked onto the court, a datapad in his hand. His heavy footsteps seemed to make the floor plates vibrate. He had the air of a king surveying his domain.
"Alright, listen up!" he barked, and the chatter on the court immediately died. "Tomorrow is the official tryout. Some of you have potential. Most of you are wasting my time. I'm not looking for fancy footwork or trick shots. I'm looking for one thing and one thing only: power."
His eyes scanned the crowd. He looked at Jax and gave a slight, approving nod.
"I'm looking for players with high Aether output. Players with the raw physical stats to dominate. That's what wins games. That's what gets you a spot on this team. Don't show up tomorrow expecting a participation trophy. Show me power, or don't show up at all."
His gaze swept past me, not even registering I was there. It was the same cold dismissal as before.
A drill started. A simple line drill. Take a ball, shoot at the target on the far wall. One by one, the other players took their shots. Most were powerful but inaccurate. Jax, naturally, nearly blew a hole in the wall.
Then, it was my turn.
My heart was pounding. This was it. My one chance to show… something. I didn't know what. That I wasn't a complete zero, maybe.
I walked to the line, my old, scuffed Aether boots feeling out of place on the pristine floor. I could hear the snickers from Jax and his friends.
I ignored them. I took a deep breath and activated my internal practice module. The translucent blue ghost appeared in my vision, overlaying my body. I planted my feet, matching its perfect stance.
I raised my hand and gathered the Aether. The ball I formed was small, barely the size of a fist, but it was stable. It pulsed with a clean, blue light.
I twisted my core, swung my arm, and put everything I had learned into that single motion.
Hiss.
The sound was pathetic in the massive arena. A whisper compared to the thunder of Jax's shots.
The ball flew. It didn't wobble or waver. It traveled in a perfectly straight line, a testament to the flawless technique the system had taught me.
It hit the target dead center.
But the impact was a soft, dull thud. It barely made a sound. It was a perfect shot, with absolutely no power behind it.
A wave of laughter erupted from the other players. "Did you see that?" "My grandma could throw harder than that!" Jax just shook his head, a smug, pitying look on his face.
I stood there, my face burning with humiliation. But then I saw him. Coach Valerius was staring at me. For a split second, I saw a flicker of something in his eyes. Surprise? Confusion at the perfect form?
Then, it was gone, replaced by a deep, immovable scowl.
He walked over to me. His shadow fell over me like a shroud.
"What was that, kid?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
"A power shot, coach," I said, my own voice barely a whisper.
He let out a short, humorless laugh. "A power shot? Son, that was a firefly farting in the wind."
He leaned in closer. "I saw you at the scrimmage, always staring at your datapad. You're one of those theory kids, aren't you? You think you can analyze your way to the top. Let me tell you something about the real world."
He jabbed a thick finger into my chest. "Technique is useless without the engine to drive it. It's a beautiful car with no gas. And you, kid, you don't have the engine. Your Aether output is the lowest I've ever seen."
He straightened up, his eyes cold and final.
"I appreciate the dedication. But don't waste my time, or yours. Don't bother showing up tomorrow."
And with that, he turned and walked away.
The words hit me like a physical blow. He didn't just dismiss me. He cut me out completely. Told me not to even try.
I stood there, the laughter of the other players echoing around me. A year ago, this would have broken me. I would have walked out of that arena and never looked back.
But as I stood there, humiliated and rejected, I felt a cold, hard stone of defiance form in my gut.
He was wrong.
They were all wrong. They only saw the surface. They saw the weak shot, the low stats, the zero rank.
They didn't see the system. They didn't see the blueprint in my head, the Power Shot (Basic) skill in my menu. They saw a kid with no engine. They had no idea I was building a new one from scratch, in secret.
A fire I never knew I had ignited within me.
I looked up, my eyes finding Jax's across the court. He was still smirking.
I would be at the tryouts tomorrow. And I would do more than just show up.
I would make them see.