SO THIS IS FOOTBALL HUH?

Football a sport where two teams of eleven face off, each fighting to score touchdowns while preventing the other from doing the same. A game of grit, strategy, and relentless will.

Inside a dimly lit room, Elijah lay slouched on his bed, his eyes locked on the television screen. The only light came from the glow of the TV as it played a legendary match from eight years ago.

Final Score:Raiden Faucons – 45, Blitz König – 40.

The tension on-screen was unbearable. A tight camera zoomed in on a younger Zidane Kingsley, calm and focused, standing tall in the pocket.

Commentator 1:

"We're down to the last few seconds, folks. The atmosphere is electric! Blitz König's defense is on its last leg. If they don't tighten up, Raiden Faucons' star quarterback Zidane Kingsley will etch his name in the history books once again!"

The camera panned across the roaring crowd. Flashing lights. Rising chants. The moment crackled with intensity.

Commentator 2:

"Just look at him! Kingsley isn't just playinghe's composing a masterpiece. The way he reads a defense… it's almost supernatural."

Zidane stepped up to the line of scrimmage, eyes scanning the field like a hawk. He called out the play "Thunderstrike" and everything shifted into motion.

The snap came. In a blur, he faked the handoff, pulling defenders in with perfect deception. Then, pivoting smoothly, he rolled out of the pocket and launched a high, spiraling pass deep into the night sky.

Commentator 1:

"The ball is up… and it's heading right into the waiting arms of destiny!"

Slow-motion took over the screen. The ball's arc. The defender's desperate reach. The receiver's leap. The touchdown.

Back in his room, Elijah leaned forward, mesmerized. His heart thumped in sync with the moment.

Zidane wasn't just a quarterback—he was football.

Commentator 2:

"This drive will go down in history as one of the greatest. Zidane Kingsley didn't just lead a team he commanded the future."

Elijah sat up slowly, eyes gleaming with awe. A faint blue aura shimmered around his body and eyes, like fire licking the edges of ambition.

"So this is football, huh?" he whispered.

The aura pulsed stronger.

"Wow… I'm getting excited."

[One Month Later – July 1st | T.B.C. High]

A sleek, black car pulled up to the entrance of T.B.C. Private High, one of the most advanced football academies in the nation.

The door swung open and Kyren Locke stepped out, dressed in a sleek warm-up jacket. Beside him was the composed Zalika Williams, clipboard in hand.

Kyren stared at the campus, taking it all in two sprawling football fields, cutting-edge facilities, towering gym halls.

"So this is it... T.B.C. High," he said with a wide grin.

"I'm going to be the greatest football player here… then the greatest in the world."

Inside the school auditorium, around 100 new recruits buzzed with anticipation. Uniforms were clean, eyes wide, and hearts pounding.

Elijah entered through the side door and stood quietly in the back. He watched in silence, unreadable.

Zalika and Kyren took their seats near the front.

Suddenly, the doors burst open—and a wave of awe swept the room.

Zidane Kingsley, legendary quarterback and now head coach, walked in with calm confidence. The chatter died instantly. All eyes locked on him.

Kyren leaned forward, stunned.

"That's really him… Zidane Kingsley."

Zidane stepped up to the podium, mic in hand. His presence commanded silence.

Zidane:

"Football is more than a game. It's war. Eleven versus eleven not just to score… but to overcome. Doubt. Pain. Fear. Yourself."

He let the weight of his words settle before continuing.

"But you know… people call football a rip-off of soccer. You know why?"

Silence.

Zidane's gaze swept the crowd.

"Because even though we have the same number of players… the same ball… what we lack is unity. Drive. Guts. That's what I'm here to build."

He straightened.

"My name is Zidane Kingsley. I've won four Super Novas. And now, I'm here to create something new."

"Our first goal? Win the NFS Championship.The other three… only the board and I know. But let me make this clear—"

He held up a single finger.

"In this world, the strongest player on a team isn't called a captain. He's called an Emperor."

Murmurs rippled across the room.

"An Emperor?" Elijah whispered.

"Wait, I've never heard that before…" said another.

Zidane stepped closer.

"I want every one of my players to become an Emperor on the field. But first I'm going to break you down. No more labels. No more QB, WR, RB."

"You don't choose your position. I do. Based on your heart, your mind, and how you play."

A hand shot up.

"Wait, that's not fair!"

Another voice echoed:

"What's the point then? Why even try out if you might get dropped?"

"We have other school offers still open we decide to come to this school because it's one of the school with best technology and advancement." Said a next student 

Zidane turned to the edge of the stage, sat down, and leaned into the mic."

"LEAAAAAAAVE."

Gasps filled the room.

"You don't pay me," he said, cold. "At the end of the day, I still get paid. I still walk away with four Super Novas. You? Most of you won't even make it pro."

More murmurs.

"If you're scared of being benched, go. If you think my methods are too harsh, go. If you're not ready to be broken and rebuiltbgo."

One by one, students began standing and walking out.

The room slowly thinned.

But Zalika stayed. Kyren stayed. Elijah didn't move.

Zidane rose.

"This school has two football fields, a state-of-the-art gym, film rooms, steam rooms, smart facilities that track everything speed, ball control, position, energy output. We have the best tech in the country."

He raised his fist.

"So my revolutionaries…"

He looked each of them in the eye.

"…shall we fight?"