Pre Match

The hum of pre-match energy buzzed faintly in the England dressing room. The players were lacing up their boots, their conversations bouncing between strategy and banter. Elian sat on the bench, tying his cleats, but his mind felt distant, unfocused.

His fingers faltered for a moment, and he glanced around, suddenly feeling... watched.

"Everything alright, Slade?" David Hale asked, tossing him a reassuring grin.

"Yeah," Elian mumbled, waving it off. But he wasn't sure. Something felt off, an unease gnawing at the edges of his consciousness.

As the team went over final tactics, Elian rubbed his temples. That familiar hum was back—the low, whispering vibration he hadn't heard since the day the Awakening System found him.

It started faint, barely noticeable, but now it grew louder, pressing against his skull.

"Elian…"

He froze. That voice. It wasn't Coach Edward, or any of his teammates.

"Elian…"