Ethan hadn't planned to leave the flat.
That was the thing.
It was one of those rare afternoons where training had finished early, his legs still heavy but his head clear. He'd spent most of the morning doing absolutely nothing—toast, phone, stretching he half-committed to, then back on the sofa.
Normal.
That still felt new.
He checked the time again, frowned, then checked his reflection in the mirror by the door.
Black hoodie. Plain.
Grey joggers. Clean.
Trainers he'd worn since League One.
He hesitated, then swapped them for another pair.
"Why do I care?" he muttered to himself.
The system didn't respond. It hadn't all day.
Jordan's message came through as Ethan locked the door.
Quick meet. Nothing formal.
Nothing formal usually meant something was coming. But Jordan hadn't pushed, so Ethan didn't overthink it.
They met at a small five-a-side centre tucked behind a retail park. No banners. No cameras. Just cages, artificial turf, and the smell of old coffee.
Josh Zerker was already there.
Ethan stopped walking.
Josh looked exactly like he did online. Same beard. Same relaxed posture. Same energy that made it feel like he belonged anywhere he stood.
For half a second, Ethan forgot how to move.
Josh spotted him and grinned. "No way. You're actually real."
Ethan laughed, a little too quickly. "I think so."
Josh shook his hand. Firm, casual. "Mate, I've been watching your clips. Championship's no joke."
Ethan nodded, still processing the fact that this conversation was happening.
Before he could say anything else, another voice cut in.
"Wow. You're younger than I expected."
Tobi.
Late, as promised.
He walked in with a coffee in hand, scanned Ethan once, then shook his head. "Nineteen, yeah? That's mad."
"Just turned," Ethan said. "Last month."
Josh raised his eyebrows. "Nineteen and already getting kicked about in the Championship. Respect."
Tobi smirked. "You sure you're actually good, or is this just one of those systems people keep talking about?"
Ethan burst out laughing.
That did it.
The tension broke instantly.
They sat on the benches by the pitch, talking like they'd known each other longer than twenty minutes. Football mostly. The difference between leagues. The speed. The way Championship games didn't slow down even when you wanted them to.
Josh listened more than he talked.
"So what's it really like at The Den?" he asked. "From the inside."
Ethan thought for a second. "It's loud even when it's quiet. You mess up once, you feel it. But if you work, they back you."
Tobi nodded. "That tracks. I reckon I'd last about five minutes."
"Five?" Josh said. "You're being generous."
They joked about a Sidemen five-a-side against Millwall players.
"You'd get broken," Ethan said, smiling.
Josh leaned back. "I give myself seven minutes before I pretend I've pulled something."
At one point, Josh looked at Ethan properly, head tilted.
"You know," he said, "it's mad seeing someone your age come through this clean. You don't act like you're chasing it."
Ethan shrugged. "I grew up watching you lot. This still feels… weird."
Tobi stopped mid-sip. "Wait. You actually watched us?"
Ethan nodded. "Before matches. Headphones in. Helped me switch off."
Tobi looked personally offended. "And you didn't tell me that earlier?"
Josh laughed. "You've peaked, mate. Inspired a Championship footballer."
Someone nearby recognised Ethan and asked for a photo. It was awkward. Ethan smiled, signed something, apologised when his signature came out messy.
When they walked away, Josh nudged him lightly. "Gets normal. Eventually."
Ethan wasn't convinced.
Before they left, Josh brought it up casually.
"You still not on Instagram?"
Ethan shook his head. "Don't know what I'd even post."
"That's fine," Tobi said. "Your first post is supposed to be bad. It's tradition."
Josh pulled his phone out. "We'll set it up. No rush. No post today."
They did it in under five minutes. Username. No bio. No picture.
"That's it?" Ethan asked.
Josh nodded. "That's it. Don't let it run you."
That line stuck.
They parted without ceremony. No promises. No plans.
Ethan walked home alone, hands in his pockets, replaying the afternoon in his head.
He was still just a fan.
That mattered.
At home, his phone buzzed constantly. Notifications he didn't open. Messages he didn't read. He put it face down and lay back on the bed.
Quiet again.
That's when the system came back.
Not softly.
SYSTEM ALERT
Ethan sat up instantly.
CAREER PROGRESSION INTERFACE: FULLY ONLINE
That was new.
Primary Development Template: IDENTIFIED
His heart rate spiked.
Template Classification: Elite Efficiency Archetype
A pause followed. Longer than usual.
Comparative Match Confidence: 97%
Ethan swallowed.
Then the final line appeared.
Template Name:
— DATA LOCKED —
Reason:
Competitive Proof Phase Incomplete
Next Objective:
Dominate the Championship
The screen dimmed.
No explanation.
No reward.
No confirmation.
Just expectation.
Ethan lay back slowly, staring at the ceiling, a grin creeping onto his face despite himself.
He was still nineteen.
Still learning.
Still grinding.
But something had shifted.
And whatever the system had seen in him…
It was done waiting.
END OF CHAPTER 24
Author's Comment
This chapter was meant to breathe.
Before the pressure spikes again.
Next chapter, the system doesn't tease anymore — it explains.
And that changes everything.