Shadows and Promises

The hospital room smelled of antiseptic and stale coffee, the afternoon light filtering weakly through the blinds. Luca sat propped up in bed, his leg stiff in its post-surgery brace, the faint buzz of the Football Prodigy System still humming in his mind. He'd spent the morning testing its limits—flexing his fingers, willing the panel to reappear. It did, every time, like a secret only he could see. But now, the real world was about to intrude.

The door swung open, and Gianpiero Cappetta stepped in, his presence filling the room like a storm rolling over the pitch. At thirty-seven, he still carried the aura of the midfielder who'd dominated Serie A—a broad frame, sharp eyes, and a quiet intensity that made Luca's stomach twist. His dark hair was flecked with early gray, and his travel-worn jacket hung loosely over his shoulders. He'd come straight from the airport.

"Luca," Gianpiero said, his voice low and steady, the Italian rolling off his tongue with a warmth that caught Luca off guard. "How're you holding up?"

Luca shrugged, eyes dropping to the brace. "Been better."

Gianpiero pulled a chair close, sitting with an ease that belied the long flight from Rome. "Your mom filled me in. Torn ACL. Tough break, kid." He paused, studying Luca's face. "But you're tougher."

Luca snorted, bitterness creeping in. "Doesn't feel like it. I'm out for months. Team's gonna move on without me."

"They might," Gianpiero said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "But football isn't about one season. It's about what you do with the time you've got. You'll come back stronger—I've seen it before."

Luca's jaw tightened. He wanted to believe it, but the whispers from the pitch still stung: He's only here because of his dad. "Easy for you to say. You were a legend. I'm just…" He gestured at his leg. "This."

Gianpiero's expression softened, a rare crack in his usual composure. "You think I didn't have setbacks? I tore my hamstring at sixteen, missed a whole year. Thought my career was done before it started. But I didn't play to prove anything to anyone else. I played because I loved it. Still do."

Luca blinked, caught off guard. He'd grown up idolizing his father's trophies, his highlight reels—Gianpiero weaving through defenses, lifting the World Cup. But love? That wasn't the story he'd told himself. "You don't care if I make it big?"

"I care if you're happy," Gianpiero said, his voice firm but gentle. "If football's your joy, I'll back you all the way. But I don't need you to be me, Luca. I just want you out there, grinning like you did when you were six, kicking a ball around the backyard."

For a moment, Luca didn't know what to say. He'd spent years chasing a shadow, assuming his dad expected greatness—another Cappetta to carry the legacy. But this? This was different. Simpler. It didn't erase the fire in his chest, though. If anything, it stoked it.

"Thanks," he muttered, voice thick. "But I'm not giving up. I'll get back out there. Better than before."

Gianpiero smiled—a small, knowing curve of his lips. "That's my boy." He reached out, ruffling Luca's hair like he hadn't since he was a kid. "Rest up. We'll talk tactics when you're on your feet."

As his father stood to leave, promising to grab some decent food for dinner, Luca's mind churned. Gianpiero didn't need him to be a legend. But Luca did. Not just for his dad's pride, but for his own. He clenched his fist under the blanket, a silent vow forming: I'll make you proud anyway. You'll see.

The door clicked shut, and the system panel flickered back to life, as if it'd been waiting.

***[Task Update: Family Motivation]***

Objective: Reflect on your father's words and set a personal goal (Completed).

Reward: 30 points, +2 Determination.

[Player Stats Update]

Determination: 76 → 78

Total Points: 20 → 50

Luca stared at the numbers, his pulse quickening. 78 Determination. It wasn't much, but it was proof the system saw his resolve hardening. He swiped to the main interface, eyeing his measly 59 Overall. Still a long way to go. But his dad's words echoed alongside the system's promise: Football's about what you do with the time you've got.

"Alright," he whispered, a grin tugging at his lips. "Let's make it count."

The panel pulsed, and a new task appeared.

***[Task: First Steps]***

Objective: Complete your first post-surgery physical therapy session.

Reward: 40 points, +1 Agility.

Luca settled back against the pillows, the ache in his knee a dull reminder of the road ahead. His father believed in him—not as a prodigy, but as his son. Now, with the system in his corner, Luca would turn that belief into something real. Something undeniable. One stat at a time.