Date: Wednesday, September 9, 2026
Time: 6:18 AM
Location: Blackwood Football Academy, Blackwood City
Luca Veyron woke with the feeling that something was about to go wrong.
He didn’t know why.
Nothing had happened yet.
That was the problem.
He lay still for a moment, listening to the quiet hum of the apartment.
Beside him, Aurora was asleep.
The room was dim, and the morning light had only just begun to push through the curtains.
Luca turned toward the clock.
6:18 AM.
He had barely slept.
Not because of the academy.
Not entirely.
His mind kept returning to the translucent interface that had appeared the night before.
The System.
It had given him no miraculous ability.
No attribute increase.
No special reward.
Only an assessment.
Right Wing.
Luca sat up.
His left ankle felt better than it had two days earlier.
The stiffness was still there, but Sofia’s mobility work had helped.
He placed his feet on the floor and stood.
Then he looked at the football beside his bed.
For years, he had trained according to other people’s instructions.
Striker.
Midfielder.
Striker again.
Midfielder again.
Yesterday, he had finally written down his own plan.
Right Wing.
He wondered how long that would last.
7:06 AM
The academy cafeteria was already crowded.
Luca carried his breakfast toward the table where Elias Morrow was sitting.
Elias looked up.
“You’re early.”
“So are you.”
“I was hungry.”
Luca sat down.
Elias looked at the notebook beside Luca’s tray.
“You’ve started carrying that everywhere.”
“It’s useful.”
“What’s inside?”
“Training notes.”
“That’s disappointingly responsible.”
Luca ignored him.
Elias leaned closer.
“Right wing?”
Luca glanced at him.
“Yeah.”
Elias nodded.
“Finally.”
Luca stopped eating.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve watched you for four years.”
Elias pointed his fork toward him.
“Whenever you get bored playing centrally, you drift right.”
“I don’t drift.”
“You drift.”
“I move.”
“You drift.”
Luca sighed.
Elias smiled.
“Same thing.”
Luca looked down at his food.
“Maybe.”
Elias studied him.
“You’re serious about this.”
“Very.”
“Good.”
Elias leaned back.
“But don’t expect them to change everything overnight.”
“I don’t.”
“Especially Halden.”
“I know.”
Victor Halden had never been cruel toward Luca.
That almost made the situation more frustrating.
Victor believed in measurable development.
Luca simply hadn’t given him enough evidence.
For years, that had been the entire problem.
7:52 AM
The senior academy players gathered on Training Pitch Two.
The grass was damp from overnight rain.
Clouds hung low over the city.
Victor Halden stood beside Adrian Vale while the squad warmed up.
Luca joined the group.
His eyes immediately went toward the right side of the pitch.
Ryan Mercer was already there.
Ryan noticed.
“You planning to stare at my position all morning?”
Luca looked at him.
“No.”
“Good.”
Ryan adjusted his shin guards.
“Because I’m not giving it to you.”
Luca nodded.
“I didn’t ask.”
Ryan smiled.
“You’re getting better at answering.”
“I’ve had practice.”
Ryan laughed.
Before anything else could be said, Victor blew his whistle.
“Everyone in.”
The squad gathered.
Victor held a training sheet.
“Today’s session is focused on tactical flexibility.”
Luca’s attention sharpened.
Victor continued.
“We’re preparing for multiple match scenarios.
Players may be used outside their usual positions.”
Luca’s expression changed.
Not much.
But enough for Adrian to notice.
Victor began assigning groups.
“Renner, striker.”
Marcus Renner nodded.
“Mercer, right wing.”
Ryan stepped forward.
“Kessler, central midfield.”
Noah moved into position.
“Morrow, left back.”
Elias nodded.
Victor continued.
Then:
“Veyron.”
Luca looked at him.
“Left midfield.”
Silence.
Luca blinked.
“Left midfield?”
“Yes.”
He waited.
Victor looked at the sheet.
“You’re comfortable there.”
Luca almost laughed.
Comfortable.
That word again.
“Understood.”
Victor nodded.
“Good.
Get ready.”
Luca walked toward the left side.
Adrian watched him go.
He did not interfere.
Not yet.
8:04 AM
The first exercise began.
It was a transition drill.
One team attacked.
The other defended.
Players had to recover quickly after losing possession.
Luca started on the left.
The first few minutes were awkward.
He was accustomed to receiving the ball on the right and opening his body toward the center.
On the left, his natural angles disappeared.
When the ball came to him, he received with his left foot.
The touch was clean.
But his next movement was different.
A defender closed him down.
Luca attempted to cut inside.
The defender anticipated it.
He lost the ball.
“Again!” Victor shouted.
The ball returned.
Luca received it deeper.
This time he passed backward.
Victor’s voice came again.
“You’re too safe.”
Luca looked toward him.
The drill continued.
The ball arrived again.
Luca tried to drive down the line.
His stronger foot was toward the inside rather than the outside.
He had to take an extra touch.
That extra touch allowed the defender to close him.
The defender poked the ball away.
Luca stumbled.
His boot scraped across the wet grass.
He recovered quickly.
But the ball was already gone.
Victor stopped the drill.
“Veyron.”
Luca walked over.
“Yes, Coach?”
“What are you seeing?”
“Space.”
“Where?”
“Behind the fullback.”
“Then why didn’t you attack it?”
Luca hesitated.
“Because I had to take the ball on my left.”
Victor frowned.
“Your preferred foot.”
“Yes.”
“So what’s the problem?”
Luca struggled to explain.
“The angle.”
Victor looked at him.
“Then solve the angle.”
Luca nodded.
The drill restarted.
But the problem remained.
8:29 AM
Luca received the ball again.
This time, the defender stood farther away.
He pushed the ball forward.
Accelerated.
The defender matched him.
Luca tried to cut inside.
The defender blocked the lane.
Luca attempted to shift outside.
His next touch was heavy.
The ball rolled out of bounds.
Victor blew the whistle.
Luca stopped.
The ball had crossed the line by nearly a meter.
He stared at it.
That had not happened on the right.
Not usually.
Adrian walked over.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“You’re thinking too much.”
Luca frowned.
“About what?”
“Your feet.”
Luca looked at him.
Adrian pointed toward the ball.
“You normally don’t think about which foot to use.”
Luca was silent.
“You’re calculating everything here.”
Luca nodded slowly.
“Because it doesn’t feel natural.”
Adrian smiled faintly.
“Now you’re paying attention.”
9:03 AM
The next exercise involved finishing.
The coaches wanted midfielders to arrive late into the box.
Luca was instructed to attack from the left.
He made several runs.
The first was too early.
The second was too late.
The third was blocked by a center-back.
On the fourth attempt, Noah found him with a low pass.
Luca entered the box.
He struck it first time.
The ball flew wide.
“Good idea,” Noah said.
“Bad finish.”
Noah shrugged.
“Those happen.”
Luca looked toward the goal.
He wasn’t angry about missing.
He was frustrated because he could feel the difference.
When he attacked from the right and cut inside, his entire body seemed to know what came next.
On the left, every movement required thought.
Where should he receive?
Should he cut inside?
Should he stay wide?
Should he cross?
Should he switch play?
Should he run behind?
He knew the answers intellectually.
His body didn’t.
9:41 AM
The training intensity increased.
Players began to tire.
That was when mistakes became more obvious.
Luca’s first touch became less reliable.
His defensive recovery slowed.
His decision-making became hesitant.
Ryan, playing on the right, was having a strong session.
He repeatedly attacked the fullback.
Once, he beat him with a change of direction and delivered a low cross toward Marcus.
Marcus met it first time.
Goal.
Ryan raised his arms.
Marcus pointed toward him.
“Perfect!”
Ryan laughed.
Luca watched from the opposite side.
There was no jealousy.
There was something more uncomfortable.
Recognition.
Ryan looked like a right winger.
Luca looked like a midfielder pretending to be one on the left.
That distinction bothered him.
10:17 AM
The final exercise was an eleven-versus-eleven tactical game.
Luca remained on the left.
The whistle sounded.
The game began.
For the first fifteen minutes, Luca struggled.
He was too narrow.
Victor corrected him.
He dropped too deep.
Victor corrected him.
He moved inside at the wrong time.
Victor corrected him.
“Veyron!
Hold the width!”
Luca moved toward the touchline.
The ball came.
He received.
A defender approached.
Luca looked up.
There was space behind him.
He could attack.
He pushed the ball forward.
Accelerated.
For a moment, the defender was beaten.
Luca reached the edge of the box.
He crossed.
The ball sailed beyond everyone.
Goal kick.
Luca lowered his head.
“Too much.”
Adrian called from the sideline.
“Better!”
Luca looked over.
Adrian nodded.
“The idea was right.”
The ball was brought back.
Play continued.
Several minutes later, Luca received again.
This time, he cut inside.
Noah moved into the space.
Luca passed.
Noah returned it.
Luca shot.
The goalkeeper saved.
The sequence was good.
Not excellent.
But good.
Victor didn’t criticize him.
That mattered.
10:58 AM
The game ended.
Players walked toward the sideline.
Some dropped onto the benches.
Others reached for water.
Luca sat down.
His shirt was soaked with sweat.
His legs felt heavy.
Sofia walked over.
“How’s the ankle?”
“Fine.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Actually fine.”
She examined his movement as he stood.
“Better.”
Luca nodded.
She glanced toward the pitch.
“How was left midfield?”
Luca gave a tired laugh.
“Not my favorite.”
“Why?”
“I can’t explain it.”
Sofia smiled.
“You don’t have to.”
Luca looked at her.
“Why?”
“Your body already explained it.”
11:26 AM
The coaching staff gathered near the technical area.
Luca wasn’t close enough to hear everything.
But he saw Victor speaking with Adrian.
The discussion lasted several minutes.
Victor looked toward the pitch.
Then toward Luca.
Adrian said something.
Victor folded his arms.
Another coach joined them.
Luca looked away.
He didn’t want to speculate.
He had spent too many years trying to guess what coaches thought about him.
He needed facts.
Not assumptions.
12:03 PM
Lunch was louder than usual.
The morning session had exhausted everyone.
Marcus dropped into the seat beside Luca.
“You looked uncomfortable.”
Luca looked at him.
“Thanks.”
Marcus laughed.
“I mean on the left.”
“I know.”
Marcus took a drink.
“You’re better on the right.”
Luca looked at him.
“You’re saying that too?”
“Who else said it?”
“Noah.”
Marcus nodded.
“He’s right.”
Luca stared at his food.
Marcus leaned back.
“You know, I’ve never understood why they keep moving you.”
“Neither do I.”
Marcus shrugged.
“They probably see something useful in you.”
“Useful isn’t enough.”
Marcus’s expression became serious.
“Maybe.”
He looked at Luca.
“But you’re not replaceable just because you’re not perfect.”
Luca appreciated the words.
Marcus wasn’t trying to comfort him.
He was simply being honest.
“Thanks.”
Marcus nodded.
Then smiled.
“Besides, if they move you again, they’ll probably put you in goal.”
Luca laughed.
“That would be terrible.”
“For everyone.”
1:19 PM
Luca found Adrian in the analysis room.
The coach was reviewing training footage.
Luca stood at the doorway.
“Can I come in?”
Adrian nodded.
“Of course.”
Luca entered.
The screen showed footage from the morning.
Adrian paused it.
Luca was on the left.
“How bad was it?”
Adrian looked at him.
“That’s not the right question.”
“What is?”
“How useful was it?”
Luca frowned.
Adrian rewound the footage.
“You struggled.”
“I know.”
“But you adapted.”
The clip showed Luca receiving the ball, cutting inside, passing to Noah, and continuing his run.
“Your first ten minutes were poor.”
Adrian rewound again.
“But you started adjusting.”
The clip continued.
“You stopped trying to play exactly as you would on the right.”
Luca watched.
“You began using the space differently.”
Adrian paused the footage.
“That’s development.”
Luca nodded.
“But you’re still better on the right.”
Adrian said it plainly.
Luca looked at him.
“You agree?”
“I’ve been saying it for weeks.”
Luca stared.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did.”
“When?”
“Several times.”
Luca thought back.
Adrian smiled.
“You just weren’t listening.”
Luca looked at the screen again.
That was uncomfortable.
Because it was true.
1:34 PM
Adrian pulled up another clip.
This one showed Luca from the previous day’s small-sided game.
Right wing.
Receive.
Acceleration.
Cut inside.
Shot.
Post.
Adrian paused the video at the moment before Luca struck the ball.
“Look at your body.”
Luca leaned forward.
“What about it?”
“You’re already prepared to shoot.”
Luca watched.
His left shoulder was slightly open.
His body was balanced.
His next movement was obvious.
Adrian changed the video to the left-side sequence.
Luca looked different.
More upright.
More cautious.
Adrian said nothing.
He didn’t need to.
The comparison was obvious.
Luca sat back.
“So what happens now?”
Adrian shrugged.
“That depends on you.”
“I thought you were my coach.”
“I am.”
“Then tell me.”
Adrian smiled.
“You want certainty.”
“Yes.”
“Football doesn’t give much of it.”
Luca sighed.
Adrian continued.
“What I can tell you is that I want to see you on the right.”
Luca’s eyes sharpened.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Then why am I on the left?”
“Because you’re an academy player.”
Adrian leaned back.
“You need to demonstrate that you can function outside your preferred position.”
Luca nodded.
“Professional football demands versatility.”
“Exactly.”
Adrian pointed toward the screen.
“But versatility isn’t the same thing as identity.”
Luca absorbed that.
“Your problem isn’t that you can’t play elsewhere.”
Adrian paused.
“Your problem is that nobody has figured out where you belong.”
Luca looked at the frozen image.
For the first time, he felt that someone understood the problem.
Not completely.
But enough.
2:07 PM
Luca left the analysis room.
He walked toward the outdoor pitches.
The academy grounds were quieter in the afternoon.
Younger age groups were training on the far fields.
A group of U15 players practiced passing patterns.
One boy miscontrolled a ball.
Another shouted at him.
The coach immediately stopped the exercise.
“Don’t blame him.
Show him.”
The second player nodded.
They restarted.
Luca watched for a moment.
He remembered being that age.
He remembered believing every mistake was proof that he wasn’t good enough.
Maybe that had never been true.
Maybe mistakes were simply information.
He continued walking.
3:26 PM
Luca returned to the gym.
Not for a full session.
Just mobility and light technical work.
He placed his notebook beside him.
Under the heading Day 2, he wrote:
Left midfield: functional, uncomfortable.
Then:
Right wing: natural, not yet proven.
He paused.
Added:
Need evidence.
He stared at the words.
That was what the academy wanted.
Evidence.
Not belief.
Not excuses.
Evidence.
He closed the notebook.
4:11 PM
The System appeared.
No warning.
No sound from the academy.
Just a translucent panel in front of Luca.
He froze.
[POSITIONAL OBSERVATION UPDATED]
Current Training Position: Left Midfield
Performance Assessment: Functional
Natural Compatibility: Moderate
Primary Compatibility: Right Wing
Observation:
Player demonstrates adaptability outside primary position but shows increased hesitation in body orientation, attacking angle selection, and final-third decision-making.
Luca read the message slowly.
Then another line appeared.
[Adaptability is valuable.]
[Positional specialization remains recommended.]
Luca stared at the final line.
[Do not confuse versatility with optimal development.]
The interface disappeared.
Luca remained seated.
For once, the System hadn’t told him that he was special.
It had told him something much more useful.
Being capable of playing somewhere did not mean he should build his career there.
Luca opened his notebook again.
He wrote:
Versatility = useful.
Then underneath:
Natural position = priority.
He closed the notebook.
5:03 PM
The sky darkened.
Luca left the academy grounds with his backpack over one shoulder.
His legs were tired.
His ankle was stiff again.
Nothing severe.
But enough to remind him that ninety days did not mean ninety days of unlimited training.
His body had limits.
He needed to respect them.
Near the academy entrance, he saw Ryan.
Ryan was speaking with two younger players.
When he noticed Luca, he nodded.
“See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.”
Ryan walked away.
Luca watched him for a moment.
There was competition between them now.
But it wasn’t hatred.
Ryan had something Luca wanted.
A place on the right wing.
Luca didn’t resent him for protecting it.
If anything, Ryan gave him something valuable.
A standard.
6:18 PM
Aurora was waiting at home.
She was sitting at the dining table with her laptop open.
Several clothing samples were spread beside it.
She looked up when Luca entered.
“How was today?”
Luca dropped his bag.
“Another position.”
Aurora smiled.
“Of course.”
“You don’t sound surprised.”
“I’m not.”
Luca sat opposite her.
“Left midfield.”
“How was it?”
“Functional.”
Aurora raised an eyebrow.
“That’s a very Luca answer.”
He smiled.
“I struggled.”
“Better.”
“Why is that better?”
“Because now you’re being honest.”
Luca looked at the samples on the table.
“What are those?”
“New AURELIA designs.”
“They look good.”
“You’re not even looking.”
“I can tell.”
Aurora laughed.
She closed the laptop.
“So.”
Luca looked at her.
“Do you still think you’re a winger?”
He hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Then keep working toward it.”
“What if the academy disagrees?”
Aurora shrugged.
“Then give them enough evidence that disagreeing becomes difficult.”
Luca smiled.
“You make everything sound easy.”
“No.”
She reached across the table.
“I just don’t think fear should make your decisions.”
Luca looked at her hand.
Then took it.
For a few seconds, the academy disappeared.
There were no evaluations.
No contract.
No System.
No position.
Just the person who had stayed beside him before there was anything impressive about his name.
9:47 PM
Luca sat at his desk.
The academy evaluation notice remained beside his notebook.
89 days remaining.
He added the day’s observations.
He had struggled on the left.
He had adapted.
He had still made mistakes.
He had learned something.
That was enough for one day.
Luca closed the notebook.
Then he looked toward the football beside his bed.
Tomorrow, the coaches might put him somewhere else again.
Defensive midfield.
Striker.
Attacking midfield.
Maybe even right wing.
He couldn’t control their decisions.
But he could control what he learned from each one.
That thought brought him back to something Adrian had said.
Versatility isn’t the same thing as identity.
Luca finally understood what had been missing.
For years, every new position had forced him to ask:
What does the team need me to be?
Now he needed to ask a different question.
What kind of player am I?
He turned off the light.
The answer wasn’t complete.
Not yet.
But for the first time, he knew where to look.
The right side of the pitch.
And tomorrow, he would find out whether Blackwood was willing to let him stay there.