The locker room air was thick with sweat and silence. Leon sat with clenched fists on the bench, jaw locked. Across the room, Kael leaned against a metal locker, arms folded, eyes burning holes through Leon's back. The match had ended in disaster—Kael had sabotaged him again. And this time, it had cost them the game.
All it had taken was one reckless play. Leon had created a golden opening late in the match—an inside cut, followed by a perfectly-timed Agile Step feint and a line-breaking pass through two defenders. But Kael had ignored it. Instead, he'd darted forward, snatched the ball from Leon mid-play, and went solo—only to be tackled brutally just outside the box. The counterattack that followed left their goal exposed. The loss stung, but it was the betrayal that burned deeper.
Leon stood up slowly, his knuckles white. "You want to lose this team just to stroke your ego?"
Kael pushed off the locker with a scoff. "What I want is to stop pretending like you're some savior. You think just because Coach gives you more minutes, you're above the rest of us?"
"Minutes?" Leon snapped, stepping forward. "You ignore passes, hog the ball, and screw up the match, and I'm the problem?"
Kael's lip curled. "At least I don't play like a ghost wearing someone else's boots."
The words hit too close.
ZANE-003 SYNC DRIFT: 9%
Leon's vision flickered momentarily. The system's quiet intrusion had become more frequent—he didn't even activate PlaySight during the match. Yet still, the drift grew. Every flick, every feint, every instinct… more and more, he was moving like Zane.
Before he could say another word, Kael shoved him hard in the chest.
Leon stumbled back—but not far. The moment his balance returned, he lunged.
Fists flew. The scuffle was raw—clumsy, fast, furious. Kael's knuckles grazed Leon's cheek. Leon retaliated with a wild punch to Kael's side. They crashed into a bench, knocking over water bottles and bags. Aria's voice called out sharply, "Stop it!" but neither listened.
"Hey—HEY!" Teammates rushed in. Zubair and Noah tried to wedge themselves between the two. Boots scraped the tiled floor. Leon broke free for a moment and landed another hit before Kael grabbed his collar and dragged him down.
It was chaos.
Until the voice of thunder broke through.
"ENOUGH!"
Coach Davor's shout froze the room.
Both boys panted, bruised and tangled, still glaring.
Coach didn't yell again. He just pointed.
"To the tactics room. Now."
"But—"
"NOW. You two want to tear each other apart? Fine. Do it without an audience."
The team parted silently as the two stormed past.
Inside the room, Coach shut the door, twisted the lock—and left.
They were alone.
Silence. Heavy, suffocating silence.
Kael leaned back against the wall, breathing hard. Leon wiped blood from his lip, pacing like a caged animal.
The tension was unbearable.
"Why do you hate me so much?" Leon finally asked. His voice was tired, less angry now. "You don't even know me."
Kael laughed bitterly. "I don't need to. I know your type. Star boy with a fast rise. Gets eyes on him, gets the coach's favor… Meanwhile, the rest of us grind in the shadows, overlooked."
Leon frowned. "You think this was handed to me?"
"I know it was," Kael shot back. "No one improves that fast. One week you're tripping on your own laces, the next you're outpacing half the squad with perfect timing and dribbles that don't even make sense."
Leon's heart thudded. So Kael had noticed.
"You're not just good," Kael continued, his voice low. "You're... unnatural."
Leon didn't respond. He couldn't. Not without revealing the truth. Not without explaining PlaySight.
Kael sat down on the floor, resting his back against the wall. For a while, he said nothing.
Then, to Leon's surprise, he spoke—quietly this time.
"You want to know something? I used to be like you."
Leon paused. "What?"
Kael stared at the ceiling. "Two years ago, I was the top pick in my age group back home. Fast, technical, confident. Everyone said I was going to be the next breakout midfielder. My dad called me Kael the Catalyst."
He laughed dryly.
"Then I tore my ACL. Out for nine months. When I came back, I wasn't the same. I hesitated more. My movement slowed. I lost my starting spot. My father stopped coming to matches."
Leon's anger began to dull. "I didn't know…"
Kael shook his head. "Of course not. No one does. Because I don't share my sob story with everyone. I just kept working. Grinding. Hoping I'd claw back some respect. And then you show up—out of nowhere—playing like a savant."
Leon sat across from him now, back against the opposite wall. "It wasn't easy for me either. I wasn't handed this. I had to break through a lot just to stop being invisible."
They sat in silence again, the air between them less poisonous now, just… wounded.
"I didn't mean to sabotage the game," Kael said after a pause. "Not exactly. I just… I wanted to prove I could still win a match on my own."
Leon looked down at his bruised knuckles. "You can't win alone. Neither can I."
Kael glanced at him. "We still hate each other, though."
Leon smirked faintly. "Yeah. Pretty much."
Kael let out a low chuckle. "Fair enough."
From outside, the hallway echoed faint voices—teammates talking nervously, footsteps trailing away. But inside, things were still.
No apologies.
Just a fragile understanding.
For now.
ZANE-003 SYNC DRIFT: 10%
Leon's head pulsed slightly. He winced.
Kael didn't notice. His eyes were closed now, resting for the first time in days.
But Leon could feel it—that creeping presence. The way he'd reacted in the fight, the way his footwork matched Zane's echo... He'd turned off the overlay days ago, and still, the instincts followed him. The system wasn't just helping anymore. It was shaping him.
What happens when I reach 100%? Leon wondered grimly.
The system's silence offered no answers.
But Aria's warning played again in his mind:
"You're not just unlocking your potential… You're tracing someone else's path."