My alarm didn't wake me up. The dull, throbbing ache in my everything did.
I peeled myself off my thin mattress. Every muscle was a protest. For a second, I thought I was still on the grimy floor of Court 7. But no, this was my room. The morning light was filtering through the window.
The first thing I saw was the blue box. My constant companion.
STATUS
Name: Kai
MP: 25/100
The number was small. But it was everything. It was my ammo.
I looked at the time on my datapad. 8:15 AM IST. Saturday, August 2nd. Tryout Day.
I walked to the window and looked out. The morning air was already thick. Heavy with the August humidity of Ahmedabad. Down below, the street was already alive with auto-rickshaws and noisy crowds. A normal Saturday. Not for me. For me, it was the end of the world. Or the beginning.
I wasn't hungry. My stomach was a tight knot of fear and something else. Something hot and angry. I just drank some water, pulled on my gear, and walked out the door.
The Westwood arena was buzzing. It was way more crowded than the day before. Dozens of kids. All of them looked bigger, faster, stronger than me. They were all chatting, laughing nervously, stretching. A sea of hopefuls, all desperate for a handful of spots on the team.
I saw Jax right away. Of course I did. He was the center of attention, like always. He was telling some loud story, and a group of other jocks were hanging on his every word. He looked confident. Powerful. Like he was born in an Aetherball arena.
I was a ghost again. I found an empty piece of wall and leaned against it. I closed my eyes.
The plan, I told myself. Stick to the plan.
My goal today isn't to look good. It's not to impress anyone. My goal is to play my game. The system's game.
Earn MP. Survive.
At exactly 10:00 AM, Coach Valerius walked out. He blew a whistle so sharp it cut through the nervous energy and silenced everyone instantly.
"Welcome to the tryouts," he said. His voice was flat, bored. Like he'd already decided who he was picking. "This isn't complicated. We have three stages. Stage one, physical assessment. Stage two, one-on-one drills. Stage three, a final scrimmage."
He started pacing in front of us. "If you don't have the stats, you won't make it past stage one. If you don't have the skill, you won't make it past stage two. And if you don't have the guts, you won't survive the scrimmage. I'll be making cuts after each stage. Your name isn't called, you go home. Any questions?"
No one dared to speak.
"Good," he grunted. "Let's not waste time. Assessment starts now. First up: the sprint gauntlet."
It was a disaster.
The first test was a 100-meter zero-g dash. My Stamina was a 12. I ran my heart out, but my lungs felt like they were on fire. I finished in the bottom 10 percent. Jax finished first, looking like he hadn't even broken a sweat.
The laughter was quiet, but I heard it.
[No MP Gained]
The second test was the power-shot machine. A sensor measured the force of your impact. It was my public humiliation from yesterday, but official now. I went through the motions. I used the perfect form the system taught me. My Power Shot (Basic) flew straight and true.
Thud.
The score that flashed on the board next to my name was pathetic. The lowest of the day. Jax's score, which he got right after me, nearly broke the machine.
More laughter. This time louder. I kept my face a blank mask. I didn't look at the coach.
[No MP Gained]
Then came the final assessment. The reflex turret.
It was a machine that fired low-energy plasma bolts from multiple barrels in random patterns. The goal was to stay inside a small circle for sixty seconds without getting hit. It was a test of reflexes and agility.
My reflexes were my highest stat. A 14. Still nothing special. But this… this was different. This was my game.
I stepped into the circle. The turret whirred to life. "Ready?" a robotic voice asked. I took a deep breath. "Ready."
The first shot fired. A bright orange bolt. It was fast. My mind screamed at me to leap out of the way. But I didn't. I remembered my training. I remembered the core principle.
Efficiency.
I didn't leap. I shifted my weight, tilting my body just so. The bolt hissed past my shoulder, missing by an inch.
Ping. The beautiful sound echoed in my mind.
[Perfect Dodge Executed. Chain: 1. +1 MP]
Another bolt fired from a different barrel. I saw its path. I ducked. Not a full crouch. Just enough.
Ping.[Perfect Dodge Executed. Chain: 2. +2 MP]
My MP count climbed to 28. A new energy flowed through me. The fear was gone. Replaced by pure, absolute focus.
The turret started firing faster. Two bolts at once. One high, one low. I twisted my body, a corkscrew motion. Both bolts missed.
Ping.[Perfect Weave Executed. Chain: 3. +3 MP]
I was in the zone. I wasn't thinking anymore. I was just moving. The world outside the circle faded away. It was just me, the turret, and the system.
The other kids waiting for their turn were watching. At first, they were getting ready to laugh again. But the laughter died. They just saw a kid who wasn't moving much, but somehow, wasn't getting hit. It looked like he was insanely lucky. The bolts were just barely missing him every single time.
But Coach Valerius saw something else. I knew he did. I could feel his eyes on me. He wasn't watching me. He was watching my feet. He saw I never took a single step outside of a tiny square. He saw I never moved more than I had to.
Ping.[Chain: 4. +4 MP]
Ping.[Chain: 5. +5 MP]
My MP count was soaring. 31. 36. 41. 50.
The sixty seconds felt like an eternity and an instant. The final buzzer sounded. I was still in the circle. Untouched.
I walked out, my heart hammering, my body buzzing. I didn't look at anyone. I just looked at my system.
MP: 65/100
The first cut was brutal. Coach Valerius read a list of over twenty names. Half the hopefuls. Their faces fell. They trudged out of the arena, their dreams for the year already over.
Everyone was waiting for my name. Jax was staring at me, a confused, angry look on his face. He couldn't understand it. How did the zero, the kid with the worst sprint and the weakest shot, survive the physical assessment?
Valerius finished the list. My name was never called.
I was still in.
A quiet murmur went through the remaining players. I risked a glance at the coach. He was looking at his datapad, but then his eyes lifted and met mine. There was no praise. No approval. Just that same, intense, questioning look from the day before. The look that said, What are you?
He cleared his throat. "Alright, you survived. Barely. Now for stage two. One-on-one drills. We'll see who can actually play the game."
He looked around, his eyes landing on his star player. "Jax. You're up first."
Jax grinned, puffing out his chest. He looked around for who his victim would be.
Then, Valerius turned his head. His gaze moved past three other players and landed squarely on me.
The whole arena went dead silent.
"Your opponent," the coach said, his voice echoing in the quiet. He pointed a finger at me.
"The zero."