The Weight of Expectations

The crisp morning air carried the scent of freshly cut grass as Daniel stepped onto the CF Igualada Under-19 training pitch for the first time. The field looked the same as the junior team's, but the atmosphere felt different—more serious, more intense.

This wasn't just a step up in name. It was a new level entirely.

Miguel and Luis flanked him, their expressions mirroring his own excitement and nervousness. Around them, older, stronger players were already warming up, their passes sharp and controlled.

"Look at these guys," Miguel muttered. "They look like they've been playing pro for years."

Luis smirked. "That just means we have to be better."

Daniel nodded, gripping the straps of his training bag. He had been given this chance—now he had to prove he belonged.

The First Training Session

Coach Morales who was also the coach of the under 19's didn't waste time.

"Listen up," he barked. "You're not here to just wear the jersey. You're here to compete. To fight for your place. If you don't give 100% in every session, you won't play and we might have to just drop you from where you started from. Simple."

Daniel stared at Luis and Miguel.

"We cannot afford to return it would destroy our football career" Miguel said and the others nodded in aggrement. 

The drills started fast. One-touch passing, positional play, shooting exercises. Every movement had to be quicker, sharper.

Daniel sprinted down the wing, controlling a pass before immediately laying it off to Miguel. No time to hesitate.

During a scrimmage, Daniel found himself up against Marc Riera, one of the more experienced players in the squad. The guy was quick, aggressive, and clearly unimpressed with the newcomers.

When Daniel tried to push forward, Marc shouldered him off the ball with ease.

"Welcome to the U-19s," Marc said with a smirk before playing the ball forward.

Daniel clenched his jaw. He knew it would be tough—but this was going to be brutal.

For the first week, Daniel struggled.

The speed of play was overwhelming. His time-perception powers made it worse—sometimes he saw everything too fast, sometimes not fast enough. He had to constantly adjust, fight, and push himself.

Luis and Miguel weren't having it any easier. They all left training exhausted, sore, and mentally drained.

One night, as they sat in a small café after practice, Sofia joined them.

"How's training?" she asked, stirring her coffee.

Daniel sighed. "It's like trying to run in a hurricane."

Sofia smirked. "Well, at least you're not flying away."

Miguel groaned. "It's insane. The older guys are monsters."

Luis took a sip of his drink. "They push us around like we're nothing."

Sofia leaned forward. "So what? We're there for a reason. Adapt. Fight back."

Daniel glanced at her. She wasn't wrong. He had worked too hard to get here. He couldn't let frustration slow him down.

He had to prove himself.

The next training session, Daniel changed his approach.

He stopped overthinking. He trusted his instincts, used his speed, positioning, and quick decision-making to his advantage.

During a practice match, he finally got his moment.

Miguel intercepted a pass and sent a through ball into space. Daniel exploded forward, sprinting past Marc.

For a brief second, time slowed—but this time, Daniel controlled it.

He timed his touch perfectly, nudging the ball past the keeper and into the net.

Coach Morales nodded approvingly.

Marc, still catching his breath, looked at Daniel with a new expression—respect.

As Daniel left training that evening, he felt something strange.

A flicker of movement in the distance.

He turned—nothing.

For weeks, there had been no signs of his pursuers. But now, a familiar unease crept into his chest.

Were they watching again?

Or was something worse coming?