The darkness was warm. Comforting. Like a final embrace.
Tobi rembered the silence. The numbing kind that only cos after tears have dried and hope has withered into nothing. At 26, the world had turned its back on him—or maybe he had turned his back on the world. His boots, once kissed by the grass of Portugal’s most hallowed pitches, lay forgotten in a dusty closet. His na, once chanted by thousands, now lingered only in whispered scandals and tragic headlines.
"Portuguese Prodigy Falls From Grace."
"Tobi Oliveira: A Career Cut Short."
"Suicide Suspected in Tragic Death of Forr Benfica Star."
The pain had faded long before the final act. It wasn’t about dying—it was about escaping.
But when his eyes opened again, it wasn’t darkness that greeted him.
It was sunlight.
Blinding, warm, and all too familiar.
A single ceiling fan spun lazily above him. The walls of the room were plastered with posters of Cristiano Ronaldo, Luís Figo, and a much younger version of himself mid-dribble, smiling after winning the Lisbon U-16 Cup.
His chest tightened.
No... this can’t be.
He sat up sharply in bed, feeling lighter—smaller. He scrambled to the mirror beside his old desk. A teenage boy stared back. Leaner, wide-eyed, skin smoother, hair not yet faded from stress or neglect.
It was him. At sixteen.
Before the fa.
Before the injury.
Before... everything.
His heart thundered.
A sharp ding echoed in his mind like a notification from a video ga. A transparent screen blinked into existence in front of his eyes.
---
[Welco, Tobi Oliveira.]
[Initializing System... Football System Activated.]
---
> Na: Tobi Oliveira
Age: 16
Level: 1
Attributes:
Pace: 63
Dribbling: 68
Shooting: 60
Passing: 62
Stamina: 58
ntality: 45
Skill Points Available: 5
System Quests Unlocked.
---
Tobi staggered back.
"A system? Am I in so sort of ga?"
No response—only the hum of the fan and his own rapid breathing.
He reached out instinctively, and as his fingers grazed the screen, it collapsed into a small icon that hovered near his vision like a subtle AR display. He looked around again—his room, his street outside, the sll of fried cod wafting in from downstairs. This wasn’t a dream.
Tobi Oliveira was back. Ten years younger. Ten years smarter.
And this ti... he had a system.
---
Two Hours Later
His mother shouted from downstairs, the exact words he hadn’t heard in years.
> "Tobi, breakfast is getting cold! Don’t make co up there!"
Tears threatened to fall. He had forgotten that voice.
"I’m coming!" he called back, voice cracking.
He dressed in a hurry—his old Benfica training kit, the sa one he had worn the day he first got noticed by a scout. As he descended the stairs, every step confird it—he was back in 2015. Ronaldo was still at Real Madrid. VAR wasn’t ruining the ga. And he still had ti to change his life.
But how?
---
System Alert: Quest Unlocked
> Title: A New Start
Objective: Join a professional academy within 6 months.
Reward: 10 Attribute Points, Unlock "Talent Evaluation" Feature.
Failure: System lock for 1 year.
---
Tobi blinked. "System lock?"
The implications hit him. This wasn’t a cheat code to stardom—it was a challenge. He had knowledge, experience, and now... a second chance.
But talent alone wasn’t enough. Not this ti.
As he ate breakfast, listening to his father rant about the cost of football boots, he knew he had to move fast. Scouts didn’t wait. Trials didn’t co twice. And reputations were built early.
After finishing, he laced up his old cleats and jogged to the neighborhood pitch. The worn synthetic turf hadn’t changed—neither had the graffiti on the walls or the broken light post in the corner. But his mind was sharper. His body, though not as developed as in his pri, felt brimming with potential.
The System pinged again.
---
> Skill Usage Detected.
Dribbling Practice Mode Activated.
XP Gained: 10
Progress to Level 2: 10/100
---
He smirked.
So that’s how it worked.
"Alright," he whispered, adjusting the ball under his feet. "Let’s see what ten years of regret can do."
He began juggling, then weaving through imaginary cones, pushing his body harder with every move. Sweat poured down his brow, but his heart soared.
This ti, he wouldn’t waste it.
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