Trial (3)

The sun hung lower in the sky, casting elongated shadows across the field as the players moved into position. The trial had reached its defining moment—the match. No more isolated drills, no more structured scenarios. Just raw football, where instincts, intelligence, and technical ability would separate those who belonged from those who didn't.

David exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders to loosen up. His body was buzzing with anticipation. He had done well in the earlier drills, but this was where it really counted. The match was where reputations were made and where final decisions were solidified.

He glanced around at his teammates. Omar stood near the center circle, stretching his legs, his expression unreadable. Caleb was a few yards away, bouncing on the balls of his feet, looking as relaxed as ever.

"Alright, boys," Caleb called out, clapping his hands together. "Let's make this count."

The coach blew his whistle, and the game began.

The opening few minutes were frantic. Passes were rushed, touches were heavy, and players seemed to be overthinking every move. It was natural—everyone knew what was at stake. But it wasn't the kind of football that would impress the coaches.

David tried to find his rhythm, staying wide on the right, but the ball rarely came his way. The midfield was congested, and too many players were holding onto possession for too long, trying to do too much individually.

Caleb, playing in the No. 10 role, saw this and began directing the play. "Keep it simple!" he barked. "One, two touches! Move it faster!"

Gradually, the team settled. The ball started circulating with more purpose. David finally got his first real involvement in the eighth minute, receiving a switch from one of the center-backs. He controlled it well, took a touch past his marker, and delivered a cross into the box. It wasn't perfect—just a bit too high for Omar to reach—but it was a positive sign.

Fifteen minutes in, the opposition won a free kick near the halfway line. Their midfielder, a tall and physically dominant player, lofted a long ball into the box.

David tracked back to support the defense, but the ball fell to the opposing striker, who brought it down cleanly before firing a shot toward goal.

The goalkeeper parried it away, but the danger wasn't cleared. A second shot came flying in—this time low and hard.

David reacted instinctively, throwing his body in front of the strike. The ball slammed against his shin and ricocheted away to safety.

A sharp whistle rang out.

"Excellent block!" one of the coaches shouted.

David barely had time to register the compliment before the game resumed at full pace.

As the match progressed, David began to grow into the game. He demanded the ball more, taking defenders on when the opportunity presented itself.

Then, in the 28th minute, his moment came.

Caleb, under pressure in midfield, danced past one challenge and spotted David making a run down the right. Without hesitation, he lofted a perfectly weighted pass into space.

David sprinted onto it, taking it in stride as his defender scrambled to keep up.

The fullback tried to close him down, but David had already decided—he wasn't slowing down.

A quick touch inside threw the defender off-balance. In that split-second, David cut onto his left foot, just like he had in the drills, and unleashed a powerful strike toward the far post.

The ball curled beautifully, bending away from the goalkeeper's outstretched arms and slamming into the net.

The silence lasted for only a moment before the field erupted with noise.

"Brilliant finish!" a coach shouted.

David clenched his fists, exhaling sharply. He had done it again.

Omar jogged over, giving him a quick nod. "That was solid," he admitted.

Caleb grinned. "I told you, mate. Just ball out."

David didn't allow himself to get carried away. One goal wasn't enough. He needed to keep performing.

After David's goal, the opposition increased their intensity. Their midfield started pressing aggressively, forcing mistakes. Caleb, despite his technical ability, was getting less time on the ball.

David had to drop deeper to help relieve the pressure. He found himself engaging in more defensive work, tracking runners and making interceptions. It wasn't the most glamorous job, but he knew the coaches were watching everything—not just attacking contributions.

Omar, meanwhile, was proving to be a handful for the opposition's defense. His movement was sharp, and he nearly grabbed a goal himself, only to see his shot denied by a fingertip save.

The game was finely balanced.

With ten minutes left to play, the opposition broke forward on a counterattack. Their winger, a lightning-fast player with incredible footwork, sprinted down the left, leaving his marker behind.

David was one of the few players quick enough to recover. He sprinted back at full speed, closing the gap just as the winger reached the penalty area.

If he mistimed the tackle, it would be a clear penalty.

If he hesitated, the winger would have a free shot on goal.

David didn't hesitate.

He lunged in at the perfect moment, his foot meeting the ball cleanly before the attacker could get his shot away. The ball was sent spinning out for a throw-in.

A sharp whistle rang out.

"Brilliant defending!" one of the assistant coaches called out.

David got back to his feet, breathing heavily. He wasn't just proving himself as an attacker—he was showing that he was an all-round player.

With five minutes left, Caleb found himself in space outside the box. David spotted Omar making a run and immediately darted forward himself.

Caleb had options. He could play it safe and hold possession, or he could risk a defense-splitting pass.

He chose the latter.

With a delicate chip over the defensive line, Caleb sent the ball toward Omar, who controlled it beautifully before setting up David with a quick layoff.

David took a single touch before rifling a shot into the top corner.

2-0.

The coaches exchanged glances. They had seen enough.

The final whistle sounded moments later.

David bent over, resting his hands on his knees, his heart pounding. He had given everything. Now, it was out of his hands.

The head coach stepped forward.

"Alright, lads. That's it. You've all given your best effort, and now it's time for us to make some decisions. We'll be calling out the names of those who will move on to the next phase of selection. If your name is called, stay back. The rest of you… thank you for your time."

David stood frozen, his breath caught in his throat.

The names started being read out.

One by one, players were either relieved or heartbroken.

Then, finally—

"David."

His stomach unclenched.

He had made it.

A/N: why don't we do this, I'll upload an extra chapter every twenty power stones. Please don't forget to vote and leave a review if you enjoyed this.