The world spun, a dizzying kaleidoscope of colors and shadows.
Leon stumbled, reaching out blindly, Byon's frantic voice a muffled echo. His 'sight', his unique ability to perceive the very essence of footballing talent, was gone.
Panic clawed at his throat.
"Leo! What's wrong?!" Byon (Current: 84) grabbed his arm, his face etched with concern.
Alex (Current: 74), looking bewildered, stood nearby. "You just... went stiff. Are you okay?"
Leon blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze. The blue void had vanished as quickly as it came, but his vision remained blurred, unfocused.
He could see their shapes, their worried expressions, but the numbers, the spectral projections – they were gone.
"I... I don't know," he stammered, feeling a cold dread. "My... my eyes. Everything's blurry."
Byon guided him to a nearby bench.
"Maybe you're just tired, mate? You've been pushing yourself hard."
