The night wind swept across the empty training ground, carrying with it the faint scent of wet grass and cold metal. Floodlights buzzed overhead, illuminating the faded white lines on the field. At this hour, not a single teammate remained. Not a single coach. Not a single voice except the steady thumping inside Ares' chest.
His legs still trembled from the sprint drill he'd forced himself through—one hundred meters, full speed, ten times, with almost no break. It wasn't part of the academy schedule. He did it because he had to. Because he felt time chasing him.
Because something had changed inside him.
The System.
It had revealed itself only hours earlier, during the match when Ares' consciousness had shattered and rebuilt itself within that strange void. Now, as he stood alone on the pitch, the echo of the voice still lingered in his memory:
[Will System Activated.]
[Host: Ares.]
[Purpose: To forge an unbreakable will.]
He still wasn't sure if he believed it. But everything since then—his senses, his strength, the clarity in his movements—felt sharper, more defined, almost frighteningly so.
A soft electronic chime rang inside his mind.
[Chapter Mission: Resist.]
[Trigger Condition: The host faces a situation that challenges mental strength.]
[Reward: Partial Skill Unlock.]
[Failure: - Will Integrity.]
Ares exhaled slowly. "You again…"
He half expected silence. Instead, the System responded instantly, its tone calm and strangely emotionless:
[The Will System exists to assist the host in shaping destiny.]
"Destiny?" He scoffed softly. "My current destiny is being kicked out of the Youth Academy."
But even as he said it, his chest tightened. It wasn't a joke. His position was already unstable. His performance had been inconsistent. His family situation made things worse. He didn't have the luxury others did—extra training, better equipment, private coaches.
He had his legs. His heart. And whatever the System was.
Ares sat on the grass, pulling off his sweat-drenched training shirt. His muscles still pulsed with leftover tension. He rubbed the back of his neck and stared up at the sky. The moon was pale tonight, almost silver.
"System," he murmured, "what exactly do you want from me?"
For a moment, there was only the sound of distant cars.
Then—
[The host desires strength.]
[The Will System responds to desire.]
[Command Detected: Strength Enhancement.]
[But condition incomplete: The host must demonstrate an unshakable will.]
Ares sighed. "Meaning what? More suffering?"
[Correct.]
He almost laughed.
Of course.
Of course strength wasn't free.
He stood again, stretching his legs, but his body protested. His muscles screamed from overtraining. His lungs burned. He had nothing left to give—
Or so he thought.
Just as he bent forward to pick up his water bottle, a voice cut across the field.
"Ares! What the hell are you still doing here?"
Coach Raymond.
The last person Ares wanted to see.
Raymond marched across the turf, his steps heavy with irritation. "Training hours ended three hours ago. You're not supposed to be here alone."
Ares straightened, wiping his forehead. "I… needed extra practice."
"Extra practice doesn't mean burning yourself out." Raymond stopped in front of him, eyes narrowing. "Look at you. You can barely stand."
Ares clenched his jaw. "If I don't improve, I won't stay in the academy much longer."
Raymond exhaled sharply. "You're not wrong. But training yourself to death isn't the answer."
Ares lowered his gaze. "Then what is?"
Raymond hesitated—and that hesitation told Ares everything.
Even the coach didn't know how to help him.
Suddenly, the System chimed again:
[Resistance Challenge Triggered.]
[Situation: External pressure threatens the host's conviction.]
[Task: Assert your own will.]
Ares didn't fully understand, but he felt something stir inside him—an urge, a push, like an instinct that wasn't fully his but wasn't foreign either.
"Coach," he said quietly, "I'm not done yet."
Raymond blinked. "Ares—"
"I'm not giving up. Not tonight. Not until I become good enough to earn my place."
There it was. His true voice. Not trembling. Not desperate. Just… firm.
Raymond stared at him for a long time, then sighed. "You're stubborn. Too stubborn. Fine. Ten more minutes. Then you go home."
Ares' heartbeat quickened—not because of fear, but because the System responded immediately:
[Challenge Completed.]
[Reward Granted: Skill Fragment Unlocked.]
[Partial Skill: "Clarity — Momentary Enhanced Perception"]
[Duration: 3 seconds]
[Cooldown: 2 hours]
Ares' breath caught.
Enhanced perception?
Before he could react, the System continued:
[Use recommended during critical situations.]
[Warning: Skill fragments are incomplete. Overuse may damage Will Integrity.]
The field lights flickered overhead. Ares closed his eyes, letting the new energy settle inside him. He didn't know what this "Clarity" truly meant—but he'd soon find out.
Raymond crossed his arms. "So? What now? You planning to sprint until you collapse?"
"No," Ares said, rolling his shoulders back. "Ball control."
He retrieved a training ball from the sideline. His hands tingled as he touched it. His heartbeat aligned with a strange rhythm—systematic, almost mechanical.
Raymond muttered, "Fine. But if you pass out, I'm dragging you to the dorm."
Ares ignored the comment. He dropped the ball at his feet and began his footwork drill—quick taps, pivots, rolls, inside-out touches. But something felt different. The ball, the field, the air—they all seemed sharper, clearer.
His movements grew smoother. More precise. His breaths steadied.
Raymond's eyebrows slowly lifted.
"What's gotten into you…?"
Ares didn't answer. The rhythm in his head grew louder.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Faster.
Sharp cut left. Sharp cut right.
The ball obeyed him flawlessly. His body felt light, almost effortless.
Raymond stepped closer. "You weren't moving like this yesterday."
Ares didn't respond. He was too focused.
Then—
[Host Condition Optimal. Skill "Clarity" may now be tested.]
He hesitated.
Should he activate it?
Would it drain him? Hurt him? Help him?
He whispered inside his mind: Activate.
The world changed instantly.
The lights brightened. The grass detail sharpened. Every blade, every bounce, every vibration of the ball against his foot—he could see and feel all of it with unnatural precision.
It was like time stretched.
The ball rolled toward a cone. He tapped it with the outside of his foot and spun around, every movement calculated. His body felt perfectly synchronized with his intentions.
Raymond sucked in a breath. "Okay… that's not normal."
Three seconds later, the effect vanished. Ares staggered slightly, his vision blurrier for a moment.
The System whispered:
[Skill Duration Complete.]
[Cooldown Initiated.]
Ares wiped sweat off his forehead. "I can still go."
Raymond stared hard at him, suspicion and awe mixed in his eyes. "Ares… have you been hiding something?"
"No," Ares said truthfully. "But something awakened."
Raymond opened his mouth, closed it, then shook his head. "Whatever it is… you better use it wisely."
Ares dribbled again, pushing himself through the drill. His legs burned. His lungs ached. But his mind… his mind was steady, sharper than ever.
He felt alive.
For the first time in years, he felt his path opening instead of closing.
After another ten minutes, Raymond finally barked, "Enough. That's it."
Ares stopped, panting, sweat dripping down his chin.
Raymond placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Ares… If you can keep this up, you might really survive the next evaluation."
"Survive?" Ares chuckled tiredly. "I'm going to do more than survive."
Raymond exhaled. "We'll see."
As the coach walked away, Ares stood alone under the bright field lights. The System hummed quietly in his mind.
[Host has taken the first step.]
[Will Integrity: +3]
Ares looked at his hands again. They were bruised. Calloused. Trembling.
But steady.
Three words formed inside his mind—his own voice, not the System's:
This is only the beginning.
He picked up the ball and headed toward the exit gate, each step filled with new purpose…
Until he noticed something.
A dark silhouette watched him quietly from behind the fence.
A boy. Another academy player.
But not just any player.
Viktor Hale—the team's rising star, the prodigy everyone praised, the one rumored to be guaranteed a contract.
Their eyes met.
Viktor smirked.
"So the rumors were true," he said. "You're training alone at night."
Ares' heartbeat slowed. "What do you want?"
Viktor leaned closer, his eyes cold. "Just watching. I like knowing who my competition is."
Ares didn't look away. "And? What did you see?"
Viktor's smile widened slightly.
"Someone desperate. Someone trying to catch up to the world he's already behind."
Ares clenched his fists, but he didn't reply.
Viktor nodded once, stepping back into the shadows. "Good luck, Ares. You'll need it."
And he disappeared.
The System's voice echoed softly:
[New Rival Identified.]
[Will Trial Approaching.]
Ares stared at the empty walkway ahead.
So it begins.