Wednesday, September 16, 2026
Blackwood City, Aurelia
Blackwood Football Academy
Evaluation Day 9 of 90
At 6:16 a.m., Luca Veyron woke before his alarm.
For a few seconds, he remained still beneath the thin blanket, listening to rainwater tapping against the window.
His left ankle felt normal.
That alone was enough to make him flex his foot twice before getting out of bed.
The scrape on his right palm had almost disappeared.
The skin was still pink where the concrete had taken it a week earlier, but the dressing was no longer necessary.
He pulled on his training clothes and checked the academy schedule.
8:30 a.m.
— Tactical Training
10:45 a.m.
— Position-Specific Training
2:00 p.m.
— Match Simulation
He stared at the last line.
Match simulation.
That was where positions stopped being theoretical.
If Adrian Vale wanted evidence, today was probably going to provide it.
Luca closed his phone.
He did not know that Adrian had already changed the plan.
The academy cafeteria was louder than usual.
Players from different age groups moved between tables, carrying trays while coaches passed through with clipboards and coffee.
A group of U17 players argued about yesterday’s reserve match near the windows.
Two academy defenders were watching footage on a phone between bites of breakfast.
Luca joined Elias Morrow at their usual table.
Elias looked at his face.
“You’ve been awake for a while.”
“Sixteen minutes.”
“That’s somehow worse.”
Luca smiled.
Marcus Renner arrived carrying two plates.
“Move.”
Elias looked at him.
“Good morning to you too.”
“I need the seat.”
“You have an entire cafeteria.”
“I need this one.”
Marcus dropped into the chair beside Luca.
Ryan Mercer arrived shortly afterward.
He looked rested, but his attention was somewhere else.
His phone remained in his hand even after he sat down.
Marcus noticed.
“Eastborough again?”
Ryan turned the phone face down.
“They asked for another training report.”
Elias whistled softly.
“That’s good.”
“It is.”
Ryan’s answer came too quickly.
Luca looked at him.
Ryan noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Then stop looking at me like that.”
Luca returned to his breakfast.
Ryan exhaled and leaned back.
“The problem isn’t that they’re interested.”
Marcus waited.
Ryan finally continued.
“The problem is that they’re interested in three right-sided players.”
The table became quieter.
Eastborough Athletic had requested additional footage of Marcus, Ryan, and Luca after Stefan Keller’s visits.
For Marcus, the attention was another opportunity to confirm the reputation he already carried.
For Ryan, it was different.
Right wing was his position.
He had spent the last two seasons establishing himself as one of Blackwood’s most reliable wide attackers.
He started there regularly, had stronger match numbers than Luca, understood the academy’s defensive requirements, and had earned the trust that came with being dependable.
He was not defending a theoretical title.
He was defending a starting position.
And now Luca, a player who had spent most of his development career being moved between striker and midfield, was suddenly being discussed as a possible winger.
Ryan looked directly at Luca.
“If you become good enough to take my place, then you take it.
That’s football.”
Luca nodded.
“But?”
Ryan rubbed his thumb across the edge of his phone.
“But I can’t afford to let you take it.”
There was no hatred in his voice.
That made it more serious.
Luca understood exactly what Ryan was saying.
Ryan’s place in the starting eleven affected his visibility to scouts, his training opportunities, his reputation inside the academy, and potentially his next contract.
Eastborough’s interest made every training session more important.
Luca wasn’t simply trying to discover his position anymore.
He was competing for space that someone else already occupied.
“I won’t expect you to give it to me,” Luca said.
Ryan nodded.
“Good.”
Marcus picked up his fork.
“Can we finish breakfast before you two turn this into a transfer negotiation?”
Elias laughed.
Ryan finally smiled.
The tension eased, but it did not disappear.
It didn’t need to.
At 8:24 a.m., the players gathered on Pitch Two.
Rain from the previous night had left the grass damp.
Water clung to the edges of the white lines, and every hard change of direction sent small pieces of wet turf into the air.
Victor Halden stood near the halfway line.
Adrian Vale stood beside him.
Sofia Arden was farther down the pitch with the medical staff.
Noah Kessler was already studying the formation board.
Luca expected to see his name somewhere on the right.
Instead, Victor called out the starting groups.
“Ryan, right.”
Ryan jogged into position.
“Luca, central.”
Luca stopped.
“Central?”
Victor looked at him.
“That’s what I said.”
“Understood.”
He moved toward the midfield group.
Adrian said nothing.
That was the first strange thing.
Usually, when Adrian disagreed with a positional assignment, Luca could see it in his expression.
Today, Adrian simply watched.
Training began with positional rondos.
Luca played as an attacking midfielder, receiving between the lines and looking for forward passes.
He performed well enough.
His first touch was clean.
His passing was quick.
He found Noah twice between the midfield and defensive lines.
But whenever the ball moved toward the right side, Luca found himself drifting with it.
Not consciously.
His body simply followed the space.
Victor noticed.
“Hold your position, Luca.”
Luca corrected himself.
Three minutes later, he did it again.
This time Adrian wrote something on his clipboard.
The session progressed into a possession exercise.
Luca was asked to receive under pressure with his back toward goal.
Marcus pressed him from behind.
Luca controlled the ball, used his body to shield it, and returned the pass.
Good enough.
Then the ball moved to the right.
Ryan received it near the touchline.
A defender closed him down.
Ryan’s first touch was excellent.
He pushed the ball beyond the defender, accelerated, and delivered a low cross toward Marcus.
Marcus reached it first.
His shot struck the outside of the post.
“Again!” Victor shouted.
Ryan jogged back.
Luca watched the sequence.
Ryan had done exactly what a developed winger was supposed to do.
There was no mystery about his movement.
He knew when to stay wide, when to attack the defender, and when to release the ball.
Luca still had a lot to learn.
That fact did not discourage him.
It made the test more meaningful.
At 10:47 a.m., the main tactical session ended.
Most of the players began moving toward the changing rooms.
Luca was about to follow when Adrian called him.
“Veyron.”
Luca turned.
“Yes, Coach?”
“Stay.”
Ryan, who was walking past, glanced over.
Luca noticed.
So did Adrian.
“Everyone else can go,” Adrian said.
Ryan hesitated for half a second before continuing toward the building.
Luca remained on the pitch.
Adrian waited until the others were out of earshot.
Then he pointed toward the right touchline.
“Go there.”
Luca frowned.
“Right wing?”
“Just play.”
Luca moved into position.
Adrian placed three mannequins around the edge of the penalty area and called over Noah.
“You’re the midfielder.”
Noah looked at Luca.
Luca looked back.
“What are we doing?”
Adrian ignored the question.
“Imagine Ryan is unavailable.”
Noah understood immediately.
He positioned himself centrally.
Adrian rolled the ball toward Luca.
“Receive wide.
Defender closes.
Noah occupies the half-space.
Marcus is your striker.”
Marcus had stayed behind too.
Luca glanced toward the building.
“You kept him too?”
“I asked him to stay.”
Marcus shrugged.
“I wanted to know what was happening.”
Adrian looked at Luca.
“Start.”
The ball came toward him.
Luca controlled it with his left foot.
The nearest mannequin represented the fullback.
He approached slowly. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
Noah moved inside.
Luca waited.
The angle opened.
He accelerated.
One touch took him beyond the imaginary defender.
Then another.
Marcus moved toward the near-post channel.
Luca could have crossed.
Instead, he cut inside.
Adrian blew the whistle.
“Stop.”
Luca froze.
Adrian walked toward him.
“Why did you cut inside?”
“Marcus moved.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Luca looked toward the penalty area.
“The defender’s body was facing me.
If I went outside, I had less room.”
Adrian nodded.
“Good.
But you made the decision too early.”
Luca frowned.
“The defender hadn’t recovered.”
“Exactly.”
Adrian pointed toward the space behind the mannequin.
“You already knew where you wanted to go.
That’s dangerous.”
Luca understood.
He had been so focused on proving that he could attack from the right that he had begun making the decision before the situation required it.
Adrian stepped back.
“Again.”
The second repetition was better.
The third was worse.
On the fourth, Luca delayed his movement long enough for Noah to draw the imaginary midfielder inward.
Marcus then pulled his marker toward the center.
The gap opened.
Luca attacked it.
This time, his cross reached Marcus.
Marcus finished into the small goal.
“That’s it,” Adrian said.
Luca breathed heavily.
The sequence had lasted less than ten seconds.
But it felt different from the drills he had done as a striker.
As a striker, he had always been thinking about where the final ball would come from.
Here, he could influence where the final ball came from.
Adrian saw the realization on his face.
“Don’t romanticize it.”
Luca smiled faintly.
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
Marcus laughed.
Noah quietly added, “You were.”
Luca looked at both of them.
“Fine.”
Adrian picked up a ball.
“Again.”
The test lasted forty-two minutes.
It was not announced to the academy.
No score was displayed.
There was no System notification.
No one told Luca that his career had changed.
Adrian simply constructed situations.
One against one.
Receive and attack.
Receive and combine.
Cross after acceleration.
Cut inside after the striker’s movement.
Recover after losing possession.
Defend the fullback.
Repeat the action after fatigue began affecting his decisions.
That last part exposed Luca’s weaknesses.
After several repetitions, his first acceleration remained sharp, but his recovery became slower.
On one sequence, he lost possession and watched the ball roll toward the sideline.
Adrian immediately pointed.
“Recover.”
Luca sprinted.
He reached the ball before it went out but took an awkward touch under pressure.
Noah intercepted.
“Again.”
Luca grimaced.
His lungs were working harder now.
Sofia, watching from a distance, noticed him touching his left ankle after the next repetition.
She walked over.
“Pain?”
“No.”
“Stiffness?”
“A little.”
She crouched beside him.
“How much?”
“Two.”
“Out of ten?”
“Yes.”
Sofia looked at him for another second.
“Then you’re done with the high-intensity part.”
Luca immediately shook his head.
“I’m fine.”
“I didn’t ask whether you were fine.”
Adrian glanced over.
Sofia continued.
“You’ve been doing repeated acceleration work for almost forty-five minutes.
Your ankle isn’t injured, but your mechanics are beginning to change.”
Luca looked down.
She was right.
His left foot had started landing slightly differently.
Adrian nodded.
“Cool down.”
Luca wanted to argue.
Instead, he stepped away.
It was frustrating.
But this time he did not interpret stopping as failure.
Sofia handed him a bottle of water.
“Development doesn’t mean ignoring your body.”
Luca drank.
Across the pitch, Ryan was watching.
He had returned from the changing room and was standing near the entrance.
He had seen the entire test.
His expression was difficult to read.
The afternoon match simulation was where the consequences became real.
At 2:03 p.m., Victor gathered the squad.
“First team against second team.
Two halves of thirty-five minutes.”
He looked at his lineup sheet.
“Ryan, right wing.”
Ryan nodded.
“Luca, left.”
Luca’s head lifted.
Left wing.
After everything Adrian had tested that morning, Victor had not moved him to the right.
It was deliberate.
Or perhaps simply practical.
Either way, it mattered.
Luca started on the left.
Within five minutes, he had already discovered the problem.
His first touch kept opening him toward the wrong side.
When the fullback approached, Luca’s preferred movement took him inside, but the angle closed faster than it did on the right.
He could still play.
He could still pass.
He could still run.
But every action demanded an extra calculation.
Ryan, meanwhile, was operating comfortably on the opposite side.
He received wide, attacked the fullback, combined with Marcus, and delivered two dangerous crosses in the first fifteen minutes.
Luca tried to match the intensity.
That made things worse.
In the twenty-first minute, Noah switched play toward him.
Luca received the ball.
He hesitated.
The fullback closed.
Instead of releasing the ball quickly, Luca attempted to cut inside.
The defender won it.
Blackwood’s second team counterattacked.
Luca turned and chased.
He reached the midfield line but was late to the challenge.
Victor’s whistle cut through the rain.
“Veyron!”
Luca stopped.
“Your reaction after losing the ball was too slow.”
“Yes, Coach.”
“Don’t say yes.
Fix it.”
The game restarted.
Luca did.
On the next turnover, he immediately recovered, forced the ball backward, and helped his team regain shape.
It was not spectacular.
It was simply correct.
Adrian noticed.
So did Victor.
The second half began with a change.
Victor called Luca over.
“Right.”
Luca looked at him.
“Right wing?”
“Yes.”
Ryan heard it.
For a moment, neither player moved.
Then Ryan jogged toward the opposite side.
Luca took his place.
The difference was immediate.
Not because Luca suddenly became brilliant.
Because he stopped fighting his own body.
Noah received centrally.
Luca stayed wide.
The fullback shifted toward him.
Noah carried the ball into the half-space.
Luca waited.
The defender turned his hips.
Luca accelerated.
One touch.
Two.
He reached the edge of the box.
Marcus pulled the center-back toward him.
Luca had a shooting angle.
He hesitated.
The defender recovered.
Luca crossed late.
The ball struck a defender and went out for a corner.
That had been his chance.
Adrian shouted from the sideline.
“Better movement.
Earlier decision next time.”
Luca nodded.
The corner came to nothing.
Ten minutes later, another opportunity arrived.
This time Luca waited longer.
Ryan’s earlier run had pulled one defender away.
Noah played the ball into Luca’s feet.
Luca received on his left.
The fullback stepped forward.
Luca feinted inside.
The defender shifted.
Luca went outside instead.
For half a second, the defender was beaten.
Luca crossed.
Marcus attacked the near post.
His header went over the bar.
Marcus turned toward Luca.
“Better.”
Luca pointed at him.
“Next one.”
Ryan watched from the opposite flank.
He had not been beaten.
But he had seen enough.
Luca was not yet a better winger than him.
He was becoming a real winger.
That was the threat.
The match ended 2–2.
Ryan had scored once.
Marcus had scored once.
Luca had created the second goal but had also lost possession several times.
Victor gathered the players.
“Good intensity.
Poor concentration in transition.”
He looked across the group.
“Ryan, your crossing was strong.
Defensive recovery was inconsistent.”
Ryan nodded.
“Luca, your movement from the right was significantly better than from the left.
But your final-third choices are still inconsistent, and your defensive recovery needs work.”
Luca listened.
Victor did not praise him excessively.
He did not dismiss him either.
That was progress.
Then Victor said something that changed the immediate competition.
“Tomorrow’s training groups will be adjusted.”
Several players looked up.
“Right-wing rotation will be shared between Ryan Mercer and Luca Veyron.”
Ryan’s jaw tightened.
Luca remained still.
Victor continued.
“That does not mean Luca has won the position.”
Ryan’s expression relaxed slightly.
“It means both of you will be evaluated there.”
The players began leaving the pitch.
Ryan walked past Luca.
“Congratulations.”
Luca looked at him.
“For what?”
“You finally got a real fight.”
Ryan continued toward the changing room.
Luca watched him go.
The words were not friendly.
They were not hostile either.
They were a warning.
At 4:01 p.m., Sofia examined Luca’s ankle.
“No swelling.”
She pressed around the joint.
“Range of motion is good.”
She handed him a resistance band.
“Mobility tonight.
No extra sprinting.”
Luca nodded.
“And tomorrow?”
“If it feels normal tomorrow morning, you train normally.
If it doesn’t, you tell me.”
“Understood.”
Sofia looked at him.
“Actually understood?”
“Actually understood.”
“Good.”
The physical consequence was minor, but Luca could feel it in his legs as he walked back toward the changing rooms.
The test had not given him a miracle.
It had given him a problem list.
Final-third decisions.
Defensive recovery.
Repeated-sprint efficiency.
And now something else.
Competition.
At 7:18 p.m., Luca met Aurora at a small café in Blackwood City.
She had finished a supplier call for AURELIA only twenty minutes earlier.
Her tablet sat beside her coffee, still open to a spreadsheet.
She looked at Luca.
“You’re tired.”
“Yes.”
“Did you train extra?”
“No.”
Aurora smiled.
“That’s new.”
Luca laughed.
He told her about the test.
She listened without interrupting.
When he finished, she asked, “Did you win the position?”
“No.”
“Did you lose it?”
“No.”
“Then what happened?”
Luca thought about it.
“Adrian tested me on the right.”
“And?”
“I was good sometimes.
Bad sometimes.”
“Sounds like football.”
He looked at her.
Aurora closed the tablet.
“What did Victor say?”
“Tomorrow Ryan and I will share the right-wing rotation.”
Aurora smiled.
“That’s important.”
“It also means Ryan is going to make sure I don’t get comfortable.”
“Good.”
Luca raised an eyebrow.
“You think that’s good?”
“If you’re trying to earn a professional career, eventually someone will try to take your place.”
She reached across the table and touched his hand.
“But don’t turn Ryan into the enemy because he’s doing his job.”
Luca shook his head.
“I don’t.”
“I know.”
She squeezed his fingers.
“And don’t turn yourself into the enemy either.”
He looked at her.
“What does that mean?”
“You’ve spent years criticizing yourself for being the wrong kind of player.
Don’t start doing the same thing because you’re learning to be a winger.”
Luca looked down at their hands.
That landed harder than he expected.
Aurora opened her tablet again.
“I have another supplier meeting tomorrow morning.”
“Early?”
“Seven-thirty.”
“I’ll let you work.”
She looked at him.
“You can still text me.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
She smiled.
For a few minutes, they sat without discussing football.
Luca found himself relaxing.
Outside, buses moved through the wet streets.
Students walked beneath umbrellas.
Restaurant workers carried boxes through side doors.
Blackwood City continued with its evening while academy players worried about starting positions inside one training ground.
His world was bigger than the pitch.
That mattered.
At 10:06 p.m., Luca returned to his room.
His legs were heavy.
His ankle was slightly stiff again, but there was no pain.
He completed Sofia’s mobility work, showered, and sat on the edge of his bed.
Only then did the System appear.
[PLAYER DEVELOPMENT SYSTEM]
[Evaluation Day: 9/90]
[Days Remaining: 81]
[Position: Right Wing]
[Current Development Trend: Positive]
[Recent Assessment Recorded.]
Strengths:
First-Touch Orientation
Acceleration Timing
Attacking Movement
Recognition of Space
Combination Play
Development Concerns:
Final-Third Decision Making
Defensive Transition
Repeated-Sprint Efficiency
Positional Consistency Under Fatigue
[External Competition Detected.]
[Right-Wing Competition: Ryan Mercer]
[Current Development Comparison: Ryan Mercer remains more developed and consistent.]
[Recommendation: Continue targeted development.]
Luca read the final line twice.
Ryan was still ahead.
The System had not changed that.
Adrian’s test had not changed that.
One good session had not changed that.
But tomorrow, for the first time, Luca would train for the position he believed might actually be his while competing directly against the player who already owned it.
He placed the phone on the bedside table.
Then he looked at his left foot.
The old instinct was still there.
So was the work.
Luca turned off the light.
Tomorrow would not be about proving that Ryan was wrong.
It would be about proving that Luca could survive the competition.
And for the first time, that felt like a challenge he actually understood.