Monday morning began with silence.
No shouting, no whistles. Just the sound of fear breathing through the dorm.
Everyone knew what day it was.
Evaluation Day.
By evening, the coaches would post the first cut list — names of players who wouldn't continue at the academy. One week of training, one sheet of paper, and everything could disappear.
I lay on my bunk staring at the ceiling. The fan spun lazily above, but it did nothing to cool the anxiety sitting heavy in my chest. Every muscle in my body remembered last week's exhaustion. Every thought replayed my mistakes — that missed shot, the lost ball, the stumble during warm-ups.
Kunle sat across from me, lacing his boots quietly. He didn't look nervous. He looked… still. Like someone who'd already accepted whatever came next.
"You ready?" he asked.
"Does anyone ever get ready for this?" I replied, forcing a weak smile.
He smirked. "Fair point. Just play like your life depends on it. Because here, it does."
> "Mindset registered," the System murmured softly. "Quest: Survive the Cut."
"Objective: Earn your place."
I exhaled slowly. "Earn my place," I repeated under my breath.
---
Coach Ibrahim's voice cracked across the pitch as the sun rose.
"Today, we separate the dreamers from the workers. No mistakes. No excuses."
The drills started hard and only got harder. One-touch passing at lightning speed, full-field sprints, defensive positioning, and reaction drills. Every cone felt like a test. Every look from a coach felt like judgment.
When it came to the scrimmage, I could feel the tension buzzing in the air. Everyone was fighting for survival — tackles sharper, voices louder, hearts faster.
"Joseph! Ball!"
The shout came from our right-winger. I turned just in time to collect his pass. Two defenders closed in. My legs screamed, but I remembered what the System had said — Don't stop until your spirit stops.
I shifted right, feinted left, then slipped the ball through the narrow gap. A clean through pass.
Goal.
The team roared. Coach nodded slightly, jotting something in his notebook.
> "Pass Accuracy +1. Awareness +1."
"Nice one, Benin!" Kunle shouted from midfield. For the first time, it didn't sound mocking.
---
LUNCHTIME NERVES
By noon, the sun was merciless. We ate quietly in the cafeteria — rice, beans, and nervous energy. Conversations were short, glances heavy.
Someone whispered, "They said only twenty-four stay. Out of forty."
Another replied, "Last year, they cut seventeen the first week."
I tried to block them out, but their words crawled under my skin.
> "Worry drains focus," the System reminded me gently. "You've done your work. Let your effort speak."
I closed my eyes, breathing deeply. "Let my effort speak," I whispered.
Kunle nudged me. "You okay?"
"Trying to be."
He nodded. "Same. I still remember my first cut week. I couldn't eat for two days. You'll be fine, bro."
It was strange — how rivalry had turned into something like brotherhood. Maybe pressure did that. Maybe the fire that burned us also welded us together.
---
Evening came too fast.
The players gathered near the notice board as the coaches pinned a white paper to it. The silence was suffocating. Even the birds seemed to stop singing.
Coach Ibrahim stepped forward. "This list contains the names of players who will remain in the academy. If your name is not there, thank you for your time. Keep training, keep growing."
Then he walked away.
We all surged forward. My heart slammed against my ribs. I tried to scan the names, but my eyes blurred.
"Kunle Adewale…"
"Michael Okoro…"
"Chidi…"
Names rolled on. Then —
"Joseph Oyas."
There it was. My name. Small, black ink, but it glowed like gold to me.
I felt my knees almost give way. I'd made it.
Kunle slapped my shoulder. "Told you. You're in."
I laughed, breath shaky. "I can't believe it."
> "Quest Complete: Survive the Cut."
Reward: +2 Mental Strength. +1 Composure. Hidden Trait Unlocked — 'Resilience'."
"Hidden trait?" I whispered.
> "You don't quit when it hurts. That's resilience."
I grinned faintly. "Guess I earned that one."
But my joy dimmed a little when I turned around and saw the faces of those who hadn't made it — boys packing their bags, eyes red, shoulders slumped. Some cursed under their breath. Others just stood there in silence.
One of them, a small striker named Bode, looked at me. "Congrats, bro," he said, forcing a smile.
"Thanks," I said quietly. "You'll be back. I know it."
He nodded once, then walked away.
That moment stayed with me long after the crowd dispersed.
> "Survival feels lighter when others fall," the System said softly. "But remember — empathy keeps you human."
"I know," I whispered. "And I won't forget."
---
That night, the dorm was quieter than usual. Empty bunks lined one side of the room. Their owners gone, just like that.
Kunle sat at the window, staring into the dark. "Every cut reminds us — football doesn't wait."
"Yeah," I said, lying back on my bed. "It's cruel."
He shrugged. "Maybe. But it's real. That's why we fight harder."
I turned my head toward him. "You ever thought about quitting?"
He chuckled softly. "Every other day. But then I remember why I started."
"Which is?"
He smiled faintly. "To change my story. To make people know my name for something good."
His words hit deep. Because that was my reason too.
> "Purpose sustains progress," the System murmured.
I sat up, looking at the ceiling. "Then I'll hold onto mine. No matter how hard it gets."
---
THE REWARD OF STAYING
The next morning, the remaining twenty-four players assembled again. The coaches announced that the next phase would determine who got selected for national scouting trials.
My heart leapt. That was it — the door to everything I'd ever dreamed of. Arsenal felt one step closer.
Coach Ibrahim called out, "Those who survived — congratulations. You've earned another chance. But remember, survival is not success. Not yet."
His eyes met mine briefly. "Especially you, Joseph. I see something there. Don't waste it."
My chest tightened. "Yes, sir."
As the others dispersed, I stood still for a moment, watching the sun rise over the pitch. The dew shimmered like tiny stars.
> "Next Quest Unlocked: Path to the Trials (0/3)."
"Objective: Secure a spot in the national scouting team."
I smiled. "So it begins again."
> "It never ends," the System replied gently. "It only evolves."
---
Later that night, I called Mum again. She picked up almost instantly.
"Joseph! I saw your message! You made it?"
"Yes, ma."
"Ah, thank God! I knew my son can't fall down easy."
I laughed softly. "I almost did, though."
"That's okay," she said. "Even when you fall, make sure you fall forward."
Her words hit something inside me — something unshakable.
"Thanks, ma. I'll make you proud."
"You already have," she said.
When I hung up, I lay there in the dark, staring at the faint outline of the ceiling.
The System's voice returned, softer than ever.
> "You've survived your first storm. But greatness demands many more."
I smiled. "Then let it rain."
Outside, thunder rolled in the distance — the sound of a storm building somewhere beyond the academy walls. I closed my eyes, ready.
Because this wasn't just survival anymore.
This was transformation.
________________________________________________________________________________
⚙️ [SYSTEM UPDATE – PLAYER PROFILE]
Name: Joseph Oyas
Age: 15
Nationality: 🇳🇬 Nigeria
Position: Attacking Midfielder (CAM)
Current Team: Lagos National Youth Academy
Title: The Hidden Talent
Status: Active Player
---
Speed: 68 (+5)
Stamina: 72 (+7)
Dribbling: 70 (+2)
Passing Accuracy: 74 (+5)
Shooting: 66 (+2)
Vision: 73 (+4)
Composure: 71 (+8)
Defensive Awareness: 58 (+4)
Mental Strength: 75 (+8)
---
🧩 New Trait Unlocked:
Resilience – Even when fatigue or pressure rises, overall performance drops slower. The true strength of the underdog begins to show.
---
🎯 Quest Progress
✅ "Survive the Cut" – Completed
🔓 Next Quest: "Path to the Trials (0/3)"
(1) Impress in an academy match
(2) Earn direct praise from a national scout
(3) Lead team performance for one match week