Heat.
Not from the sun—though it was blinding—but from the air itself. From the dry, tallic scent of tense sweat and new-cut grass baking under pressure.
The Regional U17 Semifinal.
Paliras vs São Paulo FC.
And this ti, it wasn’t just scouts in the stands.
There were journalists. Caras. A drone hovering silently above midfield like an eye waiting to see which future star would blink.
Thiago didn’t blink.
But he felt it.
The weight of what this match could unlock.
A spot in the final.A permanent place in the U17s.And if Paulo’s hint from two nights ago ant anything—maybe more.
"São Paulo plays fast, but arrogant," Paulo had said. "They press high, assu you’ll fold. Don’t."
Thiago rembered those words as he jogged through warm-ups, feeling every movent in his hamstrings, every bounce in his feet.
He looked across the pitch—and saw him.
São Paulo’s star winger: Lucas Freitas. Number 11. Tall. Lean. Smooth with the ball. And already rumored to be signing for Ajax’s youth academy.
He didn’t look at Thiago.
Not yet.
But Thiago could feel it.
Today wasn’t just a semifinal.
It was a mirror.
One of them would rise.
The other would fade.
Kickoff.
And imdiately, São Paulo hit with speed.
Their midfield moved like a pack—three players rotating positions every minute, dragging Paliras’ formation like a shifting net.
Thiago stayed on the left, pinned back by Lucas’s overlapping pressure.
Minute 9.
Lucas burst down the wing, beat the fullback with a fake, and sent in a low cross.
Cleared.
Barely.
Minute 11.
Lucas again—this ti cutting inside, curling a shot that skimd the top of the bar.
Paliras scrambled.
But held.
For now.
Thiago’s first touch ca in the 13th.
He received the ball deep, near the sideline.
Lucas was already tracking back.
Thiago didn’t force it.
He dribbled out, recycled the play, reset the tempo.
Then started again.
Minute 16.
Ball cos wide. Defender tight.
Thiago dips his shoulder, shapes to cut inside—then bursts down the line instead, pushing the ball into space.
Defender lunges—misses.
Crowd gasps.
Thiago slows just before the touchline and cuts it back into the box.
The striker ets it.
Shot.
Blocked.
João collects the rebound.
Goal.
1–0 Paliras.
System Notification:
Assist Logged
EXP Gained: 6
Match Rating: 7.1
No Active Quest
Skill Point Earned
Lucas responded instantly.
Off the next possession, he danced past two midfielders like wind through trees.
Thiago watched from the far wing.
Lucas was good.
Too good to ignore.
In the 27th, Lucas received a chipped ball, let it bounce twice, and fired a side-volley into the net.
1–1.
The stadium shook with noise.
Now it was real.
Winger vs winger.
Na vs na.
Coach Paulo made no changes at halfti.
Just one sentence: "Make them rember your na first."
Thiago nodded once.
Then walked out into the heat.
Minute 51.
Thiago receives deep, one marker on his shoulder, another closing fast.
He doesn’t panic.
He taps it backward once—baiting the press—then flicks it through the space between them.
Nutg.
Gasps. Whistles.
He accelerates.
Midfield opens.
He drives forward, hips low, scanning.
He sees João calling for it.
Fakes the pass.
Carries instead.
One more defender.
No space.
Thiago cuts back, drops his weight, and threads a needle-pass through two bodies.
João doesn’t hesitate.
Goal.
2–1.
System Notification:
Assist Logged
EXP Gained: 6
Match Rating: 7.9
Level: 10 → 11
Skill Point Earned
Attributes Updated:
Dribbling – 74
Vision – 66
Stamina Buff Active – Engine Pulse I
On the sideline, a Paliras staff mber whispered to Paulo.
He nodded.
Scouts were watching. So were the senior team’s developnt officers.
Thiago didn’t know.
He didn’t need to.
He was locked in now.
Minute 63.
São Paulo pressed harder.
Lucas kept pushing, demanding the ball every play.
He nearly scored again—cutting in from the left, curling just wide of the far post.
Thiago didn’t answer imdiately.
He waited.
Watched.
And then—minute 68—he struck.
Ball flicked high from João.
Thiago brought it down on the run, controlled it mid-air with his thigh, then chopped forward without slowing.
One-on-one with the center-back.
He didn’t try to outpace him.
He danced.
Quick touch. Right. Left. Step. Delay. Roll. Tap.
Defender frozen.
Thiago cracked it low, near post.
Keeper read wrong.
Goal.
3–1.
System Notification:
Goal Logged
EXP Gained: 8
Match Rating: 8.4
Attributes Updated:
Shooting – 62
Composure – 57
Lucas scored again in the 79th—a brilliant solo run that silenced even Paliras’ fans.
3–2.
The crowd knew what they were watching now.
Not just a semifinal.
A showdown.
But the whistle blew after six minutes of added ti.
Thiago had more contributions.
Paliras had the win.
As they walked off, Lucas finally looked at him.
Just a nod.
Nothing more.
But Thiago returned it.
They’d et again.
That much was certain.
Back in the locker room, Paulo gathered the players.
"We’re through. Final in four days. You’ve made Paliras proud."
Then he turned to Thiago.
"Pack light," he said. "You’re not coming back on the bus."
Thiago frowned. "What?"
Paulo handed him a folded sheet.
"Coach from the senior squad saw the match. You’re requested to train with the first team starting tomorrow. Ergency depth call-up."
Silence.
Even João sat stunned.
Thiago unfolded the paper.
It wasn’t a joke.
Just an address.
And a training schedule with his na on it.
"Don’t get soft," Paulo said. "Finish the cup first. But after that?"
He smiled faintly.
"They’ll be watching for real."
Thiago sat alone outside the locker room that night.
Boots unlaced. Socks balled in his hands.
He pulled up the System, breathing slow.
Level: 11
EXP: 17 / 450
Skill Points: 7
Attributes:
Pace – 72
Dribbling – 74
Shooting – 62
Passing – 65
Physicality – 64
ntality – 57
Passives:• Pain Resistance I• Balanced Vision I• Engine Pulse I• Poise Under Fire I• Spatial Sense I
Active Quest: None
He stared at the screen for a long ti.
Then closed it.
Because for the first ti since this all began—
He didn’t need the System to tell him what was next.
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