I spent the rest of Sunday morning locked in my room. The world outside, with the noisy Ahmedabad streets and the thick August air, didn't exist. My entire universe was the glowing blue interface of the System.
First, the Skill Point. I had one, and it felt like the most valuable currency I'd ever possessed. I focused on my skills menu.
> Power Shot (Basic) - LVL 1 (28% Proficiency)
I selected the skill, and a new submenu popped up, confirming my theory. I could apply the point.
[Apply 1 Skill Point to 'Power Shot (Basic)'?]
[Choose Upgrade Path:]
[A: Increase Proficiency (+50%)]
[B: Reduce Stamina Cost (-2 Stamina per shot)]
[C: Evolve Skill (Requires LVL 10)]
Path C was greyed out. Evolving the skill was tempting, a glimpse of future power, but it was out of reach. Reducing the stamina cost was practical, but what I needed most right now wasn't endurance; it was reliability. I needed the skill to be an extension of my body, something I could use without thinking.
I chose Path A. "Increase Proficiency."
[Skill Point applied. 'Power Shot (Basic)' proficiency increased by 50%.]
A flood of information downloaded directly into my brain. It wasn't just data; it was muscle memory. The feeling of the perfect shot, the exact timing of the release, the precise energy shaping—it all solidified in my mind. The 28% I had gained through hours of grueling practice suddenly felt like clumsy first steps. Now, I understood.
I checked the skill again. > Power Shot (Basic) - LVL 1 (78% Proficiency)
The jump was huge. I felt a new confidence settle in me. My main weapon was now vastly more reliable.
Next, I opened the new tab that had appeared on my menu. [Daily Quests].
The interface was simple, a list of three tasks.
[Daily Quest (Repeatable)]
Physical Conditioning: Run 5km. (Reward: 10 System EXP)
Basic Drills: Execute 100 Perfect Blocks against a training drone. (Reward: 10 System EXP)
Strategic Analysis: Watch and write a 500-word tactical breakdown of one professional Aetherball match. (Reward: 10 System EXP)
My eyes widened. This was a game-changer. I didn't have to wait for a high-stakes match to get stronger. The System was giving me a way to grind. A clear, daily path to level up and earn more rewards. It was a slow path, but it was a guaranteed one.
Just as I was processing the implications of this, my datapad buzzed on my desk. A message from an unknown sender. My heart leaped into my throat.
It was from Coach Valerius. The message was short, blunt. "Team meeting. Arena briefing room. 2 PM."
The heat outside was oppressive as I made my way to the arena. It made the blast of cool, recycled air from the school's entrance feel like diving into a cold lake.
I was nervous. This was my first time facing the others since the tryouts. Since I had beaten their star player and taken a spot they all thought I didn't deserve.
I was one of the last to arrive at the locker room. The moment I stepped through the door, the loud chatter and laughter died. It didn't just get quieter; it stopped completely.
Every single player turned to look at me.
Then, just as quickly, they all looked away. The conversations started again, but they were different now. Quieter. More intense.
Whispers.
I couldn't hear everything. I didn't need to. I caught snippets as I walked to an empty locker in the corner, feeling like an intruder.
"...can't believe Valerius picked him..."
"...that pathetic shot? The one that just fell over the line?"
"...must be a joke. My cousin hits harder than that and he's in middle school."
"...what a waste of a roster spot..."
No one spoke to me. No one even met my eyes. I was an alien species. A glitch in their world that they were trying their best to ignore.
I saw Jax across the room. He was sitting on a bench, his back to me, surrounded by his usual group of friends. He didn't turn around. He just let out a loud scoff, a sound of pure dismissal that was clearly meant for me to hear. It was a performance of disrespect for his audience.
I felt a familiar sting of isolation. But underneath it, the fire from yesterday was still smoldering. Their whispers didn't change the fact that I had won. They didn't know about my System. They didn't know about the level up, the new stats, the skill points. They were judging the player from yesterday. They had no idea I was already stronger today.
The door swung open, and Coach Valerius walked in. The locker room fell completely silent. His presence sucked all the air out of the room. He scanned the faces, his eyes seeming to linger for a moment on the tense atmosphere.
"Alright, this is the team," he said, his voice a low rumble that commanded attention. "I don't care if you like each other. I care if you can win. While you are in this room, wearing this jersey, you are a single unit. You will respect my decisions. You will respect the team. Anyone with a problem with that can get their gear and leave right now."
He stared directly at Jax's group. No one moved. No one said a word.
"Good," he grunted. "Briefing room. Now."
We all filed into the adjoining room. The coach handed each of us a small data chip.
"This is the base playbook," he said. "Drills, standard formations, offensive and defensive sets. I expect you to have it memorized by practice tomorrow morning. 6 AM sharp. Don't be late."
I took the small, cool chip in my hand. It felt heavy with significance. This was it. I was officially a part of the Westwood High Aetherball team.
As I walked out of the briefing room, my mind was already racing. The playbook. A massive file of complex strategic data.
A thought, sharp and exciting, cut through all the noise of the whispers and the tension.
Can the System analyze this?