The week leading up to the Luton Town match was a blur of conflicting realities for Ethan.
By day, he was in the virtual world, a meticulous manager drilling his squad on defensive shape, analyzing opposition data, and fostering the budding partnerships between his young stars.
By night, he was a normal teenager, playing with Gaffer, helping his dad, and trying to ignore the looming reality of his first work shift.
Saturday arrived like a speeding train. Ethan woke with a jolt, his stomach a tangled knot of nerves and excitement.
Today, everything was real. The points were real. The job was real. The ridiculously tight schedule was very real.
His plan was simple, bordering on insane.
The match kicked off at 3 p.m. A virtual football match lasts roughly the same as a real one, about an hour and forty-five minutes including half-time.
That meant he'd be logging off around 4:45 p.m. His first shift at CostMart started at 6 p.m. It was a twenty-minute bike ride away. It was doable, but there was zero room for error.
No extra time, no lengthy post-match interviews, no getting lost in the transfer market.
He spent the morning with his family, a ball of nervous energy. He could barely eat his lunch.
"You seem tense," his mom noted. "Is it your big game or your new job?"
"Both," Ethan admitted.
"Just remember to breathe," his dad said with a supportive smile.
"And don't be late for Mr. Henderson."
At 2:30 p.m., he went to his room, took a deep breath, and lay down in the pod. It was time to go to work.
He materialized in the home dressing room at The Apex. The atmosphere was completely different from the pre-season friendlies.
The light-hearted banter was gone, replaced by a tense, focused silence. The players were in their royal blue home kits, the official League One patches gleaming on their sleeves. This mattered.
Ethan walked into the center of the room, his own nerves settling as his managerial persona took over.
"Alright, lads. This is it," he began, his voice calm and steady. "Everything we've done for the past two weeks has been leading to this moment. Luton Town. They're tipped to win the league. They think this is an easy three points. They think we're just the new kids on the block."
He paused, letting his gaze sweep across the room.
"They're right. We are the new kids. And we're going to be their worst nightmare. We start fast, we press hard, and we play with zero fear. From the first whistle to the last."
He turned to the holographic tactics board. "This is how we're lining up. A 4-3-3.
In goal, Angus Gunn.
Back four: Stacey, Hanley, Gibson, Giannoulis. Solid. Experienced.
The midfield three: Kenny McLean, you're the engine. Jacob Sørensen, you're the shield.
And Emre Demir, you are the key. You'll have a free role to find space and unlock their defense.
And the front three: On the right, Jonathan Rowe. On the left, making his competitive debut, David Kerrigan. And leading the line, also making his debut, Viktor Kristensen."
He had put his faith entirely in his youth. A front three with a combined age of 51. It was either genius or madness.
"Luton are a physical team," Ethan continued. "They play a direct style. I want our wingers to be brave. David, Jonny, take your full-backs on. Be a constant threat. Viktor, your movement is key. Don't get into a wrestling match with their big center-backs; pull them into channels and create space for Emre. Let's go out there and show this league who we are."
As the players got to their feet, ready to head for the tunnel, Grant Hanley pulled the three young forwards aside.
"Listen to me, you three," the captain said in his low growl. "This isn't a friendly. They will kick you. They will try to intimidate you. Don't react. Just get up and go again. Let your football do the talking. Got it?"
Kerrigan gave a cocky smirk. "Don't worry, skip. I can handle myself."
Viktor just nodded, his face a mask of intense focus.
Emre simply replied, "Got it."
The team walked out into the roar of a packed Apex stadium.
The virtual fans were in full voice, a sea of blue and white under the bright afternoon sun.
"The wait is over! The 2025/26 League One season is finally here!" the commentator's voice boomed with infectious energy.
"And what a way to start, as the brand new Apex United, led by the mysterious young manager Ethan Couch, play their first-ever competitive match against promotion-favorites Luton Town! The Apex is absolutely rocking today, hoping to witness a historic victory!"
The whistle blew. The season had begun.
The first twenty minutes were a brutal introduction to life in League One. Luton were exactly as advertised: big, strong, and direct.
They pressed with ferocious energy, giving Apex no time on the ball. Every tackle was hard, every header was fiercely contested.
"Man on, Kenny!" Hanley yelled as McLean was clattered from behind.
"Watch the second ball!" Sørensen screamed as another long punt was launched towards their defense.
Apex was struggling to get out of their own half. The front three were isolated. Viktor was being physically dominated by a hulking center-back, and Kerrigan was getting frustrated, trying to take on three players at once and losing the ball.
Ethan stood on the sideline, a knot in his stomach.
His team looked rattled. He needed a moment, a spark from somewhere to change the momentum.
In the 26th minute, he got it.
Emre Demir, who had been quiet up to this point, dropped into a deep position to finally get a touch of the ball.
He was immediately closed down by two powerful Luton midfielders. It looked like he was trapped. But in a moment of sublime, balletic grace, he dragged the ball back with his studs, pirouetted between the two of them, and emerged into space.
The sudden move broke the Luton press.
For the first time, Apex had room to breathe. Emre glided forward, his head up. He saw David Kerrigan making an angled run from the left wing towards the center.
Emre threaded a perfectly weighted pass that bypassed the entire Luton midfield.
Kerrigan received the ball on the half-turn. A defender came rushing out to meet him. Kerrigan dipped his shoulder, feinted to go right, and then exploded to the left, leaving the defender for dead. He drove towards the penalty area.
The crowd rose to its feet.
He could have shot, but he saw Viktor Kristensen making a clever, selfless run towards the near post, dragging the big center-back with him.
That run created a sliver of space. Kerrigan looked up and slid a low, hard pass across the face of the goal.
It was aimed for the far post, where Jonathan Rowe was sprinting to get on the end of it. But the pass never reached him.
A Luton defender, desperately lunging to intercept, stuck out a leg. The ball cannoned off his shin, wrong-footing the goalkeeper, and rolled agonizingly into the back of his own net.
Own goal!
The stadium erupted in a mixture of joy and stunned laughter.
"Oh, you will not believe it! Apex United have the lead in the most fortuitous of circumstances!"
"A moment of magic from Emre Demir, a brilliant, driving run from David Kerrigan, and the final touch comes off a Luton Town defender! It's scrappy, it's lucky, but Ethan Couch will not care one bit! Apex lead one-nil!"
Ethan let out a huge sigh of relief, a wide grin breaking across his face.
He looked over at the furious Luton manager, who was screaming at his defenders.
As the Apex players celebrated their bizarre goal, a notification flashed in Ethan's vision. It wasn't from the game. It was a real-world alert from his phone's calendar app.
[REMINDER: First Shift @ CostMart. Starts in 2 hours and 30 minutes.]
He was leading in his first-ever league match, but the clock on his other life was already ticking.