The early morning air bit at my skin as I stepped onto the Blue Squad training pitch. Mist rolled low across the grass, curling around the floodlights like it had a life of its own. Everything about today felt heavy. The kind of heaviness that sits on your shoulders and whispers, this matters more than you know.
I tightened the laces of my boots, feeling the subtle tension in every tendon, every muscle. Blue Squad was no longer a place to blend in. It was a proving ground. A battlefield. And every eye—from teammates to rivals—was focused on me. The Arsenal scout's visit hung over us like a cloud I could almost taste.
Khalid was already there, stretching in quiet solitude. He glanced up, nodded, then returned to his exercises. I mirrored his calm, deep breaths. There was no room for anxiety. Not now. Not when the future of my dream loomed this close.
The System chimed softly:
[SYSTEM ALERT: ELITE OPPORTUNITY APPROACHING – PREPARE MENTAL & PHYSICAL STATISTICS.]
I exhaled. The digital hum of the System's interface felt familiar and grounding, a reminder that I wasn't entirely alone in this fight.
---
Coach Afolabi's voice sliced through the mist like a blade.
"Form up. Squad A, center field. Squad B, wings. Today's drill is scenario-based: simulate match pressure while integrating all tactical adjustments made over the last week."
I jogged into formation beside Ruben, Khalid, and Darius. The tension between me and Darius was a silent fire. We didn't speak, yet the air between us vibrated. Every glance, every subtle movement was loaded with meaning. Rivals, teammates, potential allies—everything blurred into one.
Coach Reinger stepped forward, clipboard in hand, his gaze icy.
"This drill is a mental crucible as much as a physical one. Observers are expected soon. If your decisions waver under pressure, if your passing hesitates, if your movements are predictable—your placement, ranking, and opportunities will adjust accordingly."
The words hit harder than any physical challenge. Predictable. Hesitate. Adjust. Each felt like a hammer against my chest. But I straightened. I would not hesitate. I would not falter.
The whistle blew.
---
PHYSICAL INTENSITY DRILL.
The drill started with a sprint circuit. Squads ran through zig-zag cones, performed sudden direction changes, explosive acceleration bursts, and immediate ball control exercises. Blue Squad was merciless. I felt like my legs were weighted with lead at first, lungs burning with each inhalation.
Khalid matched me stride for stride.
Ruben barked orders like a mini-general, positioning players with precision.
Darius… he glided with effortless speed, cutting inside the lanes, anticipating every pass as if he'd rehearsed it in his sleep.
The System pinged:
[PHYSICAL STRESS: 92% | ENDURANCE ALERT]
[TRAIT BOOST AVAILABLE: Competitive Instinct – ACTIVATED]
I could feel the boost immediately. Focus sharpened. My vision tunneled into the pitch. Every player's movement, every approaching opponent, every small gap was suddenly visible. I moved faster, thought faster, anticipated faster. Darius pressed me once; I slipped past, almost dancing with the ball. The System whispered stats updates in real time:
Acceleration: 88
Agility: 87
Ball Control: 89
Small increases, but in elite competition, every decimal mattered.
The sprints ended. We barely had time to breathe before the next stage: positional awareness under multi-layered pressure.
---
TACTICAL SIMULATION.
Coach Reinger had designed a chaos drill. Three players from Squad B would press two of us while the rest tried to maintain possession in a shrinking zone. The idea: force players to make instant decisions while under both physical and mental pressure.
I took the ball.
Immediately, Kelechi lunged.
I twisted, my feet barely skimming the turf. The System guided my reflexes. I spotted a tiny corridor between Ruben and Khalid and nudged the ball into it. A Blue Squad midfielder received it and passed back.
Darius closed in from the right. His face was unreadable, calculating, as if he had already predicted every move I could make in the next three seconds.
I smirked inwardly. Then let's play.
With a sharp, calculated flick, I bypassed him, dribbled between two more opponents, and found Ruben cutting to the left. The ball threaded perfectly. Ruben shot. GOAL simulation flashed in my mind as the System noted a successful pass under extreme pressure.
[TRAIT UPDATE: Pressure Shield Lv.1 | Effectiveness: 87%]
[TRAIT BOOST: Competitive Instinct | Duration: 3 min]
My heartbeat slowed slightly. Not because the drill ended, but because the System reminded me that the gap between potential and performance was narrowing—and the Arsenal scout could arrive at any moment.
---
The mist shifted. A black SUV rolled up near the main entrance. The gates opened.
And then I saw him.
A tall man in a crisp dark suit, holding a tablet, with an entourage of two assistants. Every step he took commanded attention. My chest tightened.
The rumor was real.
Arsenal was here.
Squad B froze for a split second. Squad A did the same. But I… I felt something different. Calm. Focused. Prepared.
Coach Reinger gestured toward us.
"Gentlemen, your observers have arrived. Make every second count."
I swallowed hard. Every training sprint, every tactical adjustment, every ounce of energy was about to be scrutinized. Not just by the academy, but by one of Europe's top clubs.
I focused on my breathing. Step by step. Play by play.
---
Darius came up beside me.
"You ready?" he asked softly.
No tone of challenge. No smirk. Just calm. Focused.
"Yes," I replied.
He nodded. And for a moment, just for a moment, we weren't rivals. We were two competitors, both understanding that the pressure was higher than any rivalry could be.
But then, instinct kicked in.
He made a feint. I responded. The drill intensified.
We collided—not physically, but strategically. Every movement countered the other. Every pass intercepted, every angle blocked.
Rivals or not, the System noted synergy:
[Team Awareness Boost Detected: +5]
[Rivalry Mode: Elevated | Focus & Reaction +4]
It was dangerous. It was exhilarating.
And I knew that the Arsenal scout would notice this too.
---
During a particularly complex 3v3 drill, I felt a subtle hum behind my eyes. The System pulsed, highlighting a new option:
[System Prompt: Activate Tactical Prediction Overlay? Y/N]
I hesitated. Using advanced prediction risked over-reliance, but… the Arsenal scout's presence was already a high-pressure trigger.
"Yes," I whispered.
Immediately, faint visual overlays appeared on the pitch—movement lines of all players, possible passing lanes, zones of pressure, defensive weaknesses. My brain reacted in tandem with my feet.
I slipped a pass to Ruben before the opposition could react. He advanced, crossed to Khalid, who flicked it back to me. I faked left, drove right, and threaded a perfect diagonal ball into open space where Darius cut inside.
It was seamless. Smooth. Flawless.
Even Coach Reinger's eyes widened slightly.
The System pinged a stats boost:
Passing: 83 → 86
Vision: 83 → 87
Composure: 79 → 82
And most importantly, the System noted a new potential:
[Potential Pathway Detected: International Scout Attention – HIGH]
---
The drills ended. Squad members collapsed onto the grass, breathing heavily, muscles trembling. Sweat dripped from my brow. Legs burned. Lungs screamed. But I stood tall.
Coach Afolabi walked toward me.
"Joseph, a solid session," he said. "But this is only the beginning. Today, you proved adaptability, focus, and resilience under extreme pressure. Remember this feeling—it's what separates those who climb from those who stagnate."
Ruben clapped my shoulder, an almost-respectful gesture.
Darius nodded once, tight-lipped, but there was… acknowledgment there.
Khalid smirked.
"You survived the fire," he whispered. "Now brace for the storm."
The Arsenal scout had observed every play. Every interaction. Every instinctive decision. And as I jogged off the pitch, drenched, exhausted, yet electrified, I knew that the storm Khalid mentioned wasn't just about drills.
It was about opportunity. About choice. About destiny.
The System pinged one final note:
[SYSTEM ALERT: PRIMARY DESTINY ARC – ACCELERATING]
[Trajectory Status: International Exposure Imminent]
[Recommended Action: Maintain Emotional Composure | Maximize Tactical Exploitation]
I closed my eyes for a brief second, feeling the weight of the day and the gravity of what was to come.
Benin City seemed so far away.
The dusty fields, barefoot kicks, local tournaments… all of it a distant memory now.
Now, everything was bigger. Faster. Sharper. Higher stakes.
And Joseph Oya?
He was ready to step into the fire.