The Manchester United academy didn't slow down for anyone.
If yesterday's rain had been a test of balance, today was a test of resolve.
Noah stood at the edge of Pitch Two, stretching quietly while the others chatted behind him.
The air was colder, sharper, carrying that familiar scent of wet grass and early mornings.
His muscles still ached from the day before—but it wasn't the bad kind of pain.
It was the kind that meant growth.
"Oi, Noah!"
He turned to see Marcus jogging over, a grin plastered on his face. "Did you hear? They're splitting us by performance now."
Liam followed, tying his boots with exaggerated seriousness.
"Which means I'm clearly being promoted to legendary status."
Ethan adjusted his glasses. "Statistically unlikely."
Noah smiled faintly. So it's starting already.
Coach Harrison's whistle cut through the noise.
"All of you—line up."
The boys rushed forward, forming a crooked line. Some stood confidently.
Others fidgeted.
A few looked outright nervous.
Coach Harrison walked slowly in front of them, hands behind his back.
"From today onward," he said, voice calm but heavy, "you are no longer just kids playing football. You are academy players.
And that means competition."
His gaze stopped briefly on Noah. Then Damien.
"You will be divided into Core Group and Development Group.
This isn't a punishment.
It's a statement."
A murmur spread.
Names were called one by one.
"Marcus Reed. Core."
Marcus pumped his fist.
"Damien Blackwood. Core."
No surprise there.
"Noah Ravenscroft. Core."
Liam's head snapped up. "YES—wait, what?"
"Liam Parker. Development."
"…Robbed," Liam muttered.
The line split.
Noah walked toward the Core Group, feeling eyes on his back. Some curious. Some irritated. Some sharp with jealousy.
This is the line, he realized.
The first one.
The Core Group session began immediately—and brutally.
Smaller field. Faster tempo. No wasted movement allowed.
"Two-touch limit," Coach barked. "One if you can manage it."
The ball came to Noah quickly.
One touch to control.
Second touch—pass.
Simple. Clean.
No praise.
The drill intensified.
Players pressed harder. Tackles came faster. Space disappeared.
This wasn't about technique.
This was about thinking under pressure.
Damien played like a blade—sharp, aggressive, demanding the ball constantly.
His ego filled the field, pushing others aside.
Noah noticed something else.
He wants to dominate.
That wasn't bad.
But it was dangerous.
During a possession drill, Damien attempted to dribble through three players.
He succeeded.
On the fourth—he lost the ball.
Coach Harrison blew the whistle.
"Again."
Damien clenched his jaw.
Noah received the ball next. A defender rushed him immediately.
Instead of dribbling, Noah passed into empty space—before anyone asked for it.
Marcus arrived a second later and finished.
Coach Harrison nodded once.
That single nod felt heavier than any compliment.
The scrimmage followed.
Core Group vs Core Group.
No excuses.
No slowing down.
Noah felt the pace climbing. His lungs burned. His legs screamed.
Then—
A moment.
Everything aligned.
The ball, the players, the angles.
For a heartbeat, the game slowed.
There.
He didn't activate anything.
Didn't rely on the system.
He just moved.
Intercepted a pass.
Turned.
Fed a through ball so precise it split the defense like paper.
Goal.
The whistle blew.
Training ended.
As the boys collapsed onto the grass, Coach Harrison spoke again.
"Some of you rely on talent. Some rely on ego. Some rely on instinct."
His eyes met Noah's.
"Instinct lasts the longest."
Damien looked away, fists clenched.
Later, in the locker room, Liam poked Noah's shoulder.
"You're officially scary now, you know that?"
Noah laughed softly. "I'm just trying not to get cut."
The system chimed quietly.
SYSTEM UPDATE:
Training Session Complete
Stat Growth:
Passing +1
Positioning +1
Composure +1
Hidden Flag:
Rivalry Established – Damien Blackwood
Noah leaned back against the locker, closing his eyes.
This wasn't about power.
This wasn't about destiny.
This was about drawing the first line.
And refusing to step back.