Darkness.
It stretched on forever.
McCall felt as though he were floating in an endless ocean where neither time nor space existed.
His body was weightless, yet every beat of his heart echoed like a drum through the void.
Then…
A voice.
“…Wake up.”
It was calm.
Ancient.
Powerful.
“…Wake up, McCall Johnson.”
His eyes snapped open.
He gasped for air.
The golden stadium returned, brighter than before.
It was unlike any football arena he had ever imagined.
Millions of seats circled the enormous field, yet not a single spectator occupied them.
Every blade of grass shimmered like polished emerald.
Above, seven golden moons hung in the sky despite it being daytime.
“This…”
McCall whispered.
“Where am I?”
“You stand inside the Arena Beyond Time.”
The voice came from behind him.
McCall turned.
The crowned man stood only a few feet away.
Up close, he looked even more extraordinary.
He appeared to be in his early thirties, tall and broad-shouldered.
His black hair reached his neck, while faint golden streaks shimmered through it like threads of sunlight.
His armor resembled a football uniform forged from gold and silver, engraved with symbols that shifted every few seconds.
Across his back rested no sword.
Instead…
A football.
Old.
Worn.
Yet radiating unimaginable power.
The man’s golden eyes met McCall’s.
“You never answered my question.”
McCall swallowed.
“You asked…”
“…how badly I wanted to become the greatest football player.”
The man nodded.
“So?”
McCall lowered his head.
“I’ve dreamed about football ever since I was a kid.”
Images flashed through his mind.
Watching games through the fence.
Getting picked last.
Missing catches.
Watching others celebrate victories.
Sitting alone on the bench.
“I’ve failed more times than I can count.”
His fists tightened.
“I’ve embarrassed myself.”
“I’ve disappointed people.”
“I’ve disappointed myself.”
He looked back at the mysterious man.
“But…”
“I’ve never stopped loving the game.”
His voice became stronger.
“I don’t want fame.”
“I don’t want money.”
“I just want one chance.”
“One real chance to prove I belong.”
Silence filled the stadium.
Then…
The crowned man smiled.
Not because McCall had spoken perfectly.
But because he had spoken honestly.
“Excellent.”
McCall blinked.
“…That’s it?”
The man laughed.
A deep laugh that echoed across the empty stadium.
“Do you know how many have stood where you stand?”
McCall shook his head.
“No.”
“Millions.”
McCall froze.
“Millions?”
“They all desired greatness.”
“They all wanted victory.”
“They all wanted to become legends.”
The man’s expression hardened.
“But very few loved football itself.”
“You…”
He pointed directly at McCall.
“…love the game even after it rejected you.”
A chill ran through McCall’s body.
“That is why you were chosen.”
Before McCall could respond…
The ground shook.
BOOM!
Golden cracks spread across the stadium floor.
The peaceful atmosphere vanished.
Dark clouds swallowed the seven moons.
The wind roared.
The crowned man’s smile disappeared instantly.
“They’ve found us.”
“They?”
From the far end of the stadium…
Black mist poured onto the field.
It gathered into human shapes.
One.
Five.
Twenty.
Hundreds.
Each figure wore broken football uniforms covered in shadows.
Their glowing crimson eyes stared only at McCall.
One stepped forward.
Its face was hidden beneath a cracked helmet.
Its voice sounded like broken glass scraping together.
“So…”
“The King’s successor…”
“…has finally appeared.”
McCall instinctively stepped backward.
“What are those things?”
The crowned man’s answer was immediate.
“They are the Fallen Players.”
“They were once champions.”
“They abandoned the spirit of football.”
“They chose greed.”
“They chose power.”
“They chose victory at any cost.”
“And they lost themselves.”
Another shadow stepped forward.
Its smile stretched unnaturally wide.
“We have waited centuries…”
“…for the next vessel.”
Without warning…
It charged.
Its speed was terrifying.
McCall barely saw it move.
“Look out!”
The crowned man caught the creature’s wrist with one hand.
BOOM!
The impact shattered the ground beneath them.
The entire stadium trembled.
McCall stared in disbelief.
The crowned man hadn’t moved an inch.
The shadow creature snarled before dissolving into smoke.
The remaining hundreds hesitated.
The King’s voice thundered across the stadium.
“You dare approach my successor?”
Golden light exploded from his body.
The air itself vibrated.
Every shadow staggered backward.
Some collapsed instantly.
Others screamed in agony.
McCall’s eyes widened.
“So…”
“This is real.”
The crowned man glanced over his shoulder.
“I do not have much time.”
“What do you mean?”
“My spirit has existed for thousands of years.”
“It is fading.”
“The chest you opened was never meant to grant power.”
“It was meant…”
“…to find someone worthy.”
“Worthy of what?”
The man slowly removed the ancient football from his back.
The moment he held it…
The stadium itself bowed.
The grass bent.
The wind stopped.
Even the shadows trembled.
“This…”
“…is the Heart of Football.”
“It contains the legacy of every true champion who ever lived.”
McCall reached toward it instinctively.
The ball pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
Then it floated from the King’s hands.
Straight toward McCall.
“No way…”
“It chose.”
The King smiled proudly.
“I knew it would.”
The glowing football stopped inches before McCall’s chest.
“Take it.”
“I…”
“I’m scared.”
“So was I.”
The King chuckled.
“The day I became the First King…”
“…I was nothing more than a poor village boy.”
McCall stared.
“The First King?”
The man nodded.
“My name has long been forgotten.”
“History remembers only my title.”
“I was…”
“…the very first Football King.”
Those words echoed endlessly.
The First Football King.
The founder of everything.
McCall slowly placed both hands around the glowing football.
The instant he touched it…
The world erupted into blinding gold.
Pain shot through every nerve in his body.
He screamed.
Images flooded his mind.
Ancient stadiums.
Forgotten civilizations.
Champions whose names had vanished from history.
Countless matches.
Victories.
Defeats.
Dreams.
Tears.
Every memory rushed into him like a river bursting through a broken dam.
His heartbeat accelerated.
His muscles tightened.
His vision blurred.
A strange warmth spread through his chest.
Then…
A glowing symbol appeared over his heart.
The shape of a crown…
Wrapped around a football.
The First King watched in silence.
“…At last.”
“The Legacy has accepted him.”
Behind them, the shadows began screaming louder than ever.
“He has inherited it!”
“Destroy him!”
“Hunt him!”
“Do not allow another King to rise!”
The First King stepped between McCall and the advancing darkness.
Golden lightning surrounded him.
He smiled one final time.
“Listen carefully, McCall Johnson.”
“This is only the beginning.”
“The moment you leave this place…”
“…the world will begin hunting you.”
“And not everyone chasing you will be your enemy.”
The shadows surged forward like a tidal wave.
The First King raised one hand.
“Run.”
A pillar of golden light engulfed McCall.
His vision faded.
The last thing he saw…
Was the First Football King charging alone into an army of darkness—
Smiling like a champion who had already accepted victory…
or death.