Night always hits differently in the academy.
During the day, the field is loud—full of shouting, whistles, boots hitting grass, the thud of passes, the fire of competition. But at night, when the lights dim and the other boys retreat to their dorms, everything slows down.
Everything becomes quiet enough to hear your own heartbeat.
And tonight…
my heartbeat felt heavier than usual.
I lay flat on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, muscles still aching from Tactical Evaluation Day. My mind kept replaying every drill, every whistle, every mistake. Especially the mistake where the coach had shouted at me.
"Oyas! Focus! You're drifting!"
No matter how hard I tried to shake it, the voice remained lodged somewhere behind my ribs.
The others snored around me, slipping into dreams with ease. I envied them.
Why couldn't I just switch off?
I turned over, forcing my eyes shut, trying to breathe slowly—but the System pulsed softly in the dark like a heartbeat against my vision.
A faint glow.
A soft chime.
> SYSTEM:
New Quest Available.
"A Step Beyond Limits"
Difficulty: High
Time Limit: 72 hours
My eyes snapped open.
A quest?
I hadn't received one since the early stages—small tasks like "Complete 30 passes" or "Improve stamina by 1 point." But this one felt… different. The border around the interface was gold instead of the usual silver.
My pulse quickened as I tapped it.
The full quest unfolded before me like a contract with destiny.
---
→ QUEST: A Step Beyond Limits
Objective:
Push your development outside the academy's structured training.
Show initiative. Show discipline. Show hunger.
Requirements (Complete All):
1. Solo Night Training: minimum 90 minutes.
2. Perform 300 successful ball touches without breaking control.
3. Run one full lap around the academy perimeter in under 9 minutes.
4. Complete a mental resilience challenge (System-guided).
Rewards:
+1 Overall Rating
+15 Speed XP
+15 Dribbling XP
New System Feature Unlock: "Dynamic Progress Tracker"
Penalty for Failure:
-2% Training Efficiency for 7 days
Quest cooldown: 30 days
---
I sat up immediately.
This wasn't a normal quest.
This was a breakthrough quest.
The kind that only appears when the System believes you're ready for the next level.
The kind that could accelerate my entire journey.
And the penalty for failure…
It wasn't small.
Losing efficiency for a whole week could ruin my momentum in the academy.
The risk was real.
But so was the opportunity.
I swallowed hard.
"You want to take the next step, Joseph?" I whispered to myself.
"Then prove it."
My feet hit the cold floor quietly.
I grabbed my boots, slung a hoodie over my head, and slipped out of the dorm.
The night air welcomed me like a challenge.
---
THE EMPTY FIELD
The academy's training pitch looked completely different at night.
No players.
No coaches.
Just the moonlight casting long shadows across the grass.
The quiet was almost intimidating.
Like the field itself was watching me.
I placed my ball down gently.
The sound echoed more than I expected.
90 minutes of solo work.
300 ball touches.
Perimeter lap under 9 minutes.
And a mental challenge rung from the System itself.
I exhaled sharply.
"Alright," I whispered. "Let's start."
---
The first requirement sounded easy.
It wasn't.
I started with basic toe taps, then rollovers, then small nudges, then alternating touches.
The goal wasn't just to touch the ball—it was to keep it tight, controlled, precise.
One mistake?
One mis-touch?
The count resets.
I was at 74 touches when the ball skipped slightly.
Reflexively, I stuck out my foot to keep it close—but the System flashed red.
> ❌ Control broken. Restart count.
I gritted my teeth.
Again.
The second run ended at 131 touches when sweat made the ball speed up on a rollover.
> ❌ Control broken.
I hissed under my breath.
"Relax, Joseph… feel the ball. Don't force it."
The third run reached 204 touches.
The fourth… 279.
My calves burned, my toes throbbed, and the night air felt thicker.
But I wasn't stopping here.
"Come on… just 21 more…"
The final stretch felt like holding my breath underwater.
Every touch was a heartbeat.
Every tap was a countdown.
"298… 299… 300."
I stopped the ball gently under my sole.
> ✔️ Requirement Completed.
+3 Dribbling XP
My hands trembled—not from fear, but from adrenaline.
One part done.
Two to go.
---
The academy perimeter was long—longer than it looked in the daytime. Trees lined the back side, blocking the moonlight and making sections nearly pitch black.
I stretched, breathing deeply.
"Under nine minutes… okay."
My legs still felt heavy from the drills earlier, but the thought of failing this quest made my muscles stiffen with urgency.
I crouched down.
Hands on thighs.
Breath steady.
The System issued a countdown.
> 3… 2… 1… START.
I launched forward.
The first minute was smooth, my strides long and controlled. My breathing fell into rhythm—
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
By the second minute, the cold night air clawed into my lungs.
By the third, my thighs started tightening, the burn rising.
I kept pushing.
"This isn't just running," I muttered between breaths.
"This is proof. Proof you belong here."
At minute four, I hit the shadowed woodland side of the academy, where the path dipped into darkness.
Every sound felt amplified—the crunch of gravel, the thud of my footsteps, the pounding of my heartbeat.
Fear almost crept in.
But I forced myself forward.
When I hit minute six, my vision blurred slightly. I bent forward for a moment—just a moment—before straightening again.
"No stopping."
The last two minutes were agony. Pure fire.
My legs felt like they would explode.
But I saw the academy lights come back into view.
I saw the corner of the main building getting closer.
And I sprinted.
Not gracefully.
Not beautifully.
But desperately.
I crossed the invisible finish line at the gate, panting so hard I nearly collapsed.
The System beeped softly.
> ✔️ Perimeter Lap Completed — 8:41
+4 Speed XP
I doubled over, hands on my knees, laughing breathlessly.
"I did it… I actually did it."
Two steps down.
One remaining.
And the hardest one wasn't physical.
---
I sat down in the center of the empty field, legs crossed, breathing slowing.
The System dimmed the area around me, almost like adjusting my senses.
> SYSTEM:
Begin mental resilience challenge?
This test cannot be paused or repeated.
I hesitated.
This was the part I couldn't brute-force.
I couldn't sprint through it or power past it.
This was a battle inside my own head.
"Start the test," I whispered.
The world went silent.
---
The Field Fades
Suddenly the moonlit pitch dissolved, replaced by shifting shadows and faint echoes of voices I knew too well.
Coach Daniels' angry bark:
"Focus, Oyas! You're drifting!"
A teammate's scoff:
"He's not academy level…"
The laughter of older boys who mocked me back in Benin City:
"Joseph dreams of Arsenal? He can't even make our school team."
My father's disappointed sigh.
My own doubts.
My fears.
My failures.
All swirling around me like a storm.
I clenched my fists.
"No," I whispered.
"Not tonight."
The System displayed prompts:
> CHALLENGE:
Identify your fear.
Answer honestly.
A lump formed in my throat.
My fear?
It wasn't failure.
It was something far worse.
"…I'm afraid of being forgotten," I admitted softly.
"I'm afraid of working so hard… and still not being enough."
The shadows trembled.
The voices shifted.
> CHALLENGE:
What will you do if you fail?
"I'll stand up," I said firmly.
"And try again."
> CHALLENGE:
What do you want? The truth—not the dream.
I closed my eyes.
The truth wasn't fame.
It wasn't trophies.
It wasn't the spotlight.
It was something simpler.
"I want to become someone the boy I used to be would be proud of."
Silence.
Then—
The storm faded.
The shadows dissolved.
The field returned.
I blinked as the System illuminated brightly.
> ✔️ Mental Resilience Test Completed
Fear Resistance +1
Focus +1
+5 Tactical Mastery XP
And then—
> QUEST COMPLETE
✔️ A Step Beyond Limits
Rewards Granted.
Overall Rating +1
Speed XP +15
Dribbling XP +15
New Feature Unlocked:
Dynamic Progress Tracker
A warm feeling spread through my chest.
I had done it.
In the dead of night.
Alone.
Quietly.
But victories didn't need an audience to matter.
This one felt like the start of something bigger.
Something massive.
Maybe… something legendary.
I picked up my ball, slung it under my arm, and looked at the silent academy.
"Tomorrow," I whispered, "I'll be better than today."
And I believed it.