The Steaua Stadium training complex looked like a fortress in the dawn light.
Andrei arrived at 6:00 AM sharp, exactly as instructed, his breath misting in the cold December air.
Other players were already there—men who earned more in a week than his father had made in a year before the accident.
He recognized faces from television. Constantin Budescu, the creative midfielder with magic in his boots. Florin Tănase, the captain, a striker who'd scored against Arsenal in the Europa League. These weren't just players. They were legends of Romanian football.
"You must be the kid from Iași."
Andrei turned to find a man in his early thirties studying him with sharp eyes. Mirel Rădoi, the assistant coach, extended his hand. "I watched your tape. You've got decent movement, good pace. But technique and football intelligence are different things. Understand?"
"Yes, Mister."
"We'll see." Rădoi gestured toward the training pitch. "You're with the reserves today, but train like the first team is watching. Because they are."
The reserve squad was a mix of hungry teenagers like himself and older players clinging to professional contracts. The atmosphere was different from Iași—more intense, more competitive.
Everyone was fighting for something.
They started with a warm-up, and immediately Andrei felt the system activate in his peripheral vision:
Training Session: Active
Current Focus: General Fitness
Stamina expenditure: Monitoring...
The display wasn't intrusive, just... present. Like having a coach inside his head who never stopped analyzing.
They moved into passing drills—one-touch, two-touch, playing through tight triangles. Andrei's ball control was sharp today, his first touch cushioning passes perfectly. The system tracked it all:
Pass Accuracy: 89%
First Touch Success: 93%
Technical Execution: Above Average
"Luca! Good feet!" The reserve coach, Bogdan Andone, called out encouragement.
They transitioned to small-sided games—five versus five on a reduced pitch. This was where youth players either announced themselves or disappeared. Andrei played as a striker, constantly moving, checking to the ball, spinning away from markers.
In FIFA terms, this was where Positioning and Vision mattered most. Could you find space? Could you see the pass before it existed?
Andrei received the ball with his back to goal. A defender pressed tight against him, physical and aggressive. For a moment, panic flickered—his composure threatening to crack. But then the system highlighted something in his vision:
Teammate Run Detected: Left Channel
Defender Weight: On Front Foot
Optimal Action: Back-heel pass
Andrei didn't think. He rolled the ball backward with his heel, spinning away from his marker in the same motion. His teammate collected it and slotted home. Goal.
"Beautiful!" his teammate shouted, slapping his back. Beautiful.
Assist Recorded
Vision: +0.1 (recognized passing lane under pressure)
Composure: +0.1 (executed technique in tight situation)
The increments were tiny, but they were real. Growth measured in decimal points.
The game continued. Andrei scored twice—once with a first-time finish after a clever run, once with a curling effort from outside the box. His lungs burned, his legs felt heavy, but something else burned brighter: the knowledge that he belonged here.
As the session ended, Andrei noticed someone watching from the sidelines. A woman, early twenties, with an expensive camera and a press credential hanging from her neck. She was making notes, her dark eyes flicking between her notepad and the players.
When she looked up, their eyes met for just a second. She smiled slightly, then returned to her notes.
Training Session Complete
Performance Rating: 8.4/10
Overall Impact: +0.2 (Multiple attributes improved slightly)
New Overall Rating: 66.2/99
Andrei walked toward the showers, exhausted but satisfied. He'd survived day one. Six more days to go.