Post-Match – Vix Asteroid Academy Locker Room
The air inside the locker room was thick—not with tension, but with adrenaline, sweat, and something sweeter: victory.
I sat there in full kit, boots unlaced, shirt damp, my chest still heaving. My legs buzzed with aftershocks from the freekick. But the part of me that was really trembling?
That part was somewhere deeper. Somewhere that knew everything had just changed.
We'd pulled off a remontada.
Kenji was high-fiving anyone in reach, shouting something about defensive dominance. Musa had ripped his shirt off and was using it as a makeshift headband while dancing in tight circles. The Martian twins were clicking and chirping their way across the room, dumping water over their heads and shoulders.
Coach Navarro, for once, let the chaos happen.
"Enjoy it," he said, voice rough. "You earned it. Just don't get lost in it."
I looked over at Soren. He wasn't part of the madness. He sat quietly, towel draped over his neck, taping up a sore ankle. When he caught my eye, he gave me a nod.
That hit harder than any goal I'd scored.
Then the press officer came in. A middle-aged woman with a voice like steel.
> "Alejandro Vega Ruiz. Interview room. Now."
---
Media Room
Bright lights. Even brighter questions.
I sat in a rigid chair as floating cameras hovered around me. Holoscreens beamed my face in five directions. Alien reporters, Earth anchors, and a girl from Mercury—literally Mercury—all fighting to get their questions answered first.
- "Vega! That final goal—did you plan the curve? Or was it instinct?"
- "You looked like a different player today. What changed?"
- "How does it feel to carry Earth's hopes on your back?"
Carry?
I swallowed. I wanted to be humble. Grateful. Focused.
But instead, I said:
"This is just the beginning. I came here to be the best. To make sure Earth stops being a joke."
The words tasted good. Too good.
Somewhere behind the cameras, I saw Soren watching. No smile. Just quiet, unreadable stillness.
---
Next Morning – Training Grounds
Clouds hung low over the academy's skyfield. Coach Navarro was already pacing.
> "The IYC Qualifier isn't a party. I want grit. I want urgency. You want attention? Earn it. Again."
We started warm-ups. I jogged beside Kenji and Musa.
"Look at golden boy," Kenji muttered. "Still glowing."
Musa elbowed me. "Bet he autographed his pillow this morning."
I laughed it off. Tried to, at least.
But once the drills began—
Bad touch. Ball skipped under my boot. Missed my timing on a give-and-go with Soren. Shot wide. Again.
Coach didn't yell. He just watched.
Which was worse.
"Get outta your head, Vega!" Musa barked.
He was right.
But the cameras. The headlines. The noise—it all clung to me like second skin.
I was chasing shadows.
---
That Night – Dorm Room
I tossed and turned. The sheets felt like nets trapping my limbs. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the missed pass, the awful shot, the way Soren looked away.
Eventually, sleep won.
---
🌀 [GOAT SYSTEM INTERVENTION]
> Sleep State Detected. Connecting to Legacy Memory...
PLAYER LINKED: Timo Werner
---
A stadium. Empty. Foggy. Echoes of goals long gone.
And him.
Timo Werner. Germany kit. Pacing slowly. Hands in his pockets. Casual, like we were just two guys waiting for the same train.
"Rough day?" he asked.
I nodded.
> "Good. That means you still care."
I swallowed. "Everyone saw me yesterday. Now they expect me to be that guy. Every time."
Timo laughed softly. "Let me tell you a secret. I missed so many sitters I stopped watching replays. They said I was finished. Memes. Parodies. But you know what kept me going?"
I looked up.
> "I love the game more than I hate their noise."
He turned to face me.
> "You don't need to be perfect. You just need to show up. Every. Single. Day. Show up, even if you miss. Show up until the ball starts listening to you again."
He walked past me, fading.
> "Don't let praise become a cage, Vega. Remember why you started."
---
🌀 [GOAT SYSTEM NOTE]
> Legacy Echo Complete
Confidence Reset: Active
---
I woke up just before sunrise. Heart quieter. Head clearer.
There was no crowd in my dorm. No headlines. No chants.
Just me. And the game.
Time to show up again.