The concrete steps outside the Paliras dormitory were cool against Thiago’s thighs as he sat alone in the predawn stillness. Sowhere in the distance, the last echoes of celebration still humd through the training complex—a distant car stereo playing samba, the occasional whoop of lingering staff mbers, the tallic clang of cleanup crews collecting bottles and discarded strears from the victory party.
He tilted his head back, letting the night air brush against his sweat-damped skin. The adrenaline hadn’t fully drained yet—his muscles still thrumd with residual electricity, his nerves still alight with the echoes of the match. When he closed his eyes, he could still see it all in perfect clarity:
Neymar’s impossible dribbles cutting through their midfield like a hot knife through butter.
The exact mont his cross had left his boot—the perfect weight, the perfect curve—before Nando connected with that diving header.
The way the stadium had erupted when Rafael buried the winner, the sound so imnse it had vibrated in Thiago’s teeth.
He flexed his hands slowly, feeling the lingering ache in his knuckles from where he’d punched the turf after that missed chance in the second half. Every bruise, every strain, every drop of sweat had been worth it.
Paliras were going to the final.
Against Corinthians.
A derby for the ages.
Thiago exhaled slowly and summoned the System. The interface materialized in his vision with its familiar blue glow, sharper now sohow, as if eting his heightened focus.
SYSTEM UPDATE
Level: 15
EXP: 212 / 600
Skill Points Available: 10
Attributes:
Pace – 70
Dribbling – 71
Shooting – 67
Passing – 69
Physicality – 66
ntality – 64
Sub-Attributes:
Ball Control – 71
Trick Execution – 63
Stamina – 64
Quest Complete:Chain Reaction
Contribute to 6 goals before the end of the Campeonato Paulista
Progress: 7 / 6 – Completed
Rewards Unlocked:
1 Vision
1 Ball Control
Perk:Anchored Presence
1 bonus skill point for exceeding requirents
A strange warmth spread through Thiago’s chest as the System processed the completion. The 1 to Vision manifested first—the edges of his sight sharpening montarily, the distant floodlights gaining clearer definition against the dark sky. Then Ball Control settled into his muscles like a second skin, the phantom weight of an imaginary ball feeling more natural against his instep than it had just monts before.
But it was the new Perk that made his breath catch.
Anchored Presence:Improves physical resistance and balance in duels, especially when shielding or jostling for space. Roots the user more firmly during contested monts.
He could already feel the difference—a new solidity in his core, as if his center of gravity had been subtly recalibrated. The mory of Neymar shrugging off challenges with effortless ease flashed through his mind. Now he understood.
Before he could dwell further, the System pulsed again—a new notification unfolding like a scroll:
NEW QUEST ISSUED:Crowning Glory
Objective: Win the Campeonato Paulista final against Corinthians
Rewards:
1 to all base attributes
Failure Penalty: None (The weight of defeat is punishnt enough)
Thiago’s pulse spiked. A 1 to all attributes? That was unprecedented.
The System wasn’t just rewarding him anymore.
It was preparing him.
A creak of the dormitory door interrupted his thoughts. Rafael erged, his hair still damp from the showers, a water bottle dangling from his fingers. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, but his grin was bright as ever.
"Didn’t think I’d find you communing with the football gods out here," Rafael said, collapsing onto the steps beside him.
Thiago accepted the offered water bottle. The plastic was slick with condensation, icy against his palm. "Just...processing."
Rafael snorted. "Processing? You orchestrated that coback like a fucking conductor. That ball to Nando?" He whistled low. "Scouts were scribbling notes so fast they nearly set their clipboards on fire."
Thiago took a long drink, the cold water a shock to his system. "Heard anything specific?"
"Sevilla’s guy was practically drooling. And so Premier League scout—Brighton, maybe?—kept muttering about ’press resistance’ like it was a holy mantra." Rafael stretched, his joints popping audibly. "They see it, man. What you’re becoming."
The words settled between them, weighty and real. Thiago looked down at his hands—the calluses, the fading bruises, the veins standing out against his skin. These weren’t just tools anymore. They were weapons.
"I’m not rushing," he said quietly.
"Good." Rafael bumped their shoulders together. "Just don’t get so caught up in the next step that you miss the one right in front of you." He gestured toward the training pitch, barely visible in the predawn gloom. "Corinthians won’t be like Santos. They’ll co to break legs first, play football second."
Thiago thought of the new Perk, of the quest waiting in his periphery. "Let them try."
Rafael laughed and stood, groaning as his muscles protested. "I’m gonna pass out before I fall over. But seriously—" He paused, uncharacteristically solemn. "You’re not that kid they called up from the reserves anymore. Everyone sees it now."
As Rafael disappeared inside, Thiago turned his face back to the sky. The first hints of dawn were bleeding into the horizon, turning the clouds pink at the edges. His phone buzzed—once, then twice.
Clara first:
"Saw the assist. You’re magic. I told everyone at school you’re my brother and nobody believed so I made them watch the replay 3 tis. Also Mom cried but says she didn’t."
He smiled, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Before he could reply, another notification appeared:
Camila.
"I saw the ga. You were brilliant."
Simple. No emojis. No follow-up.
Thiago exhaled slowly and typed:
"Thanks. Can we still talk? Tomorrow?"
The three dots appeared imdiately. Then:
"Of course."
No hesitation. No conditions.
He pocketed the phone and stood, his body protesting every movent. The new Perk thrumd beneath his skin, the System’s quest a quiet pulse at the edge of his awareness. Sowhere beyond the training ground walls, São Paulo was waking up—vendors setting up stalls, buses rumbling to life, the city preparing for another day.
But here, in this quiet mont between victories, Thiago felt sothing shift.
The final lood.
Europe whispered.
And beneath it all, the System waited—not as a crutch, but as a mirror, reflecting back every ounce of effort he poured into his craft.
He took one last look at the lightening sky, then turned toward the dorm.
Tomorrow would bring film sessions.
Tomorrow would bring Camila’s questions.
Tomorrow would bring the first steps toward Corinthians.
But for now?
For now, he let himself breathe.
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