I got back to my apartment, the data chip from Coach Valerius feeling like a lead weight in my hand. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the bustling streets of Ahmedabad, but I didn't notice. My world had shrunk to the size of this tiny piece of plastic.
This was my entry into the team. My proof.
I slid the chip into the port on my datapad. A file directory popped up. Westwood_Aetherball_Playbook_v3.4.
My heart hammered against my ribs. The question that had been burning in my mind since the meeting finally surfaced. I took a deep breath and focused inward.
System, can you analyze external data files?
A calm, blue notification appeared in my vision. [Confirmed. External data analysis is a baseline function. No MP cost required for non-encrypted files.]
It was possible. A wave of relief and excitement washed over me.
Analyze it.
[Accessing file: 'Westwood_Aetherball_Playbook_v3.4'. Initiating data absorption…]
It wasn't the violent, head-splitting experience of analyzing a skill. This was different. It was a clean, silent flood of information. Decades of Aetherball strategy—formations, offensive sets, defensive rotations, special plays—poured directly into my mind.
But I wasn't just reading it. I was understanding it on a level I never could before. The System was highlighting everything.
[Analyzing Formation: 'Iron Shield'... Strengths: High durability against frontal assault. Weaknesses: Vulnerable to rapid flanking maneuvers. Optimal Use Case: Defending a narrow lead in the final minute.]
[Analyzing Play: 'Crossfire Gambit'... Optimal Execution requires a left-side attacker with Agility > 35. Note: Current roster does not meet this requirement. High probability of failure.]
I saw the playbook not as a set of instructions, but as a living thing, full of strengths, weaknesses, and hidden potential. In less than five minutes, I knew the Westwood playbook better than the man who had written it. The knowledge settled into my mind, as familiar as my own name.
Just as I was processing the sheer magnitude of this new advantage, my datapad buzzed loudly, jolting me out of my trance.
It was an incoming video call. The caller ID made my stomach clench.
Coach Valerius.
My hand trembled as I accepted the call. The coach's stern, grizzled face filled the screen. He was back in his office, the dark court behind him. He didn't waste time with greetings.
"Kai," he grunted. "I'm sending you a tactical scenario. A data file."
A notification pinged on my datapad. A new file had arrived. City_Semifinals_Replay_2024.avf.
"That's the replay of the final five minutes of last year's city semi-final against Oakhaven," the coach said, his eyes hard. "We were up by one point. We lost the game. It knocked us out of the championships."
He leaned closer to his camera. "You have ten minutes. Watch it. Then you're going to send me a breakdown telling me exactly why we lost, and what three decisions would have won us the game. I don't want a novel. I want bullet points. Clear. Concise. Correct."
His face was grim. "You think you see the game on a different level. You think you're smart. Prove it."
"Your time starts now."
The video feed cut out.
A ten-minute timer appeared on my datapad screen and began to count down. This was it. This was his test. He wasn't testing my arm. He was testing my brain.
I opened the file. The game footage filled the screen. I saw the familiar Westwood jerseys. A younger-looking Jax was on the court, playing with his usual reckless power. The score was 3-2. The clock showed five minutes remaining.
I didn't just watch. I immersed myself in it, letting my System do what it did best.
System. Analyze the match data.
[Analysis Engaged.]
The game became a web of blue lines and probabilities.
[Detecting flaw in defensive rotation… Player #7 consistently over-commits, leaving a passing lane open for 1.2 seconds after each rotation.]
[Analyzing player positioning… User 'Jax' is playing out of position. Stamina drain indicates fatigue. He is chasing the ball instead of holding his zone.]
[Probability analysis: Oakhaven's winning shot had a 78% chance of success due to defensive misalignment.]
I saw it all. The tiny mistakes that cascaded into a catastrophic failure. The small moments of bad judgment that cost them the game. I saw Jax, tired and angry, trying to win the game by himself and abandoning his teammates.
Most importantly, I saw the path to victory they had missed. A simple series of three passes that would have bypassed Oakhaven's defense and led to a wide-open shot. The 'blue line' wasn't just for me anymore. I could see it for a whole team.
The timer on my datapad showed less than a minute left.
My fingers flew across the virtual keyboard, typing out a new message. I didn't write an essay. I did exactly as he said.
To: Coach Valerius Re: Semifinal Analysis
Critical Failures: - Defensive rotation of players #7 and #4 was consistently out of sync, creating a recurring vulnerability on the left flank. - Jax (Player #10) abandoned his assigned zone due to fatigue, breaking formation and leaving the center lane exposed for Oakhaven's final drive. - Team failed to exploit the Oakhaven goalie's documented weakness to high-arcing shots.
Winning Scenario: - At 1:15 remaining, a pass from #7 to #3 (instead of a failed shot) would have drawn the defense out of position. - Subsequent pass from #3 to #10 (Jax) would have resulted in a 2-on-1 against the goalie. - A high-arcing lob shot from #10 would have resulted in a goal with a 92% success probability, securing a 4-2 lead.
I hit send just as the timer hit three seconds.
I leaned back, my heart pounding. I had laid my analysis bare. This was my one real skill. If he thought this was wrong, if he thought I was a fool... then I truly had nothing.
I waited. One minute passed. Then two. The silence was deafening.
My datapad pinged. A new message. From the coach. My hands were shaking as I opened it.
The message contained a single word.
"Practice."
I stared at it, confused. Then another message arrived, a second later.
"6 AM. Don't be late. And bring your brain with you."