July 1st 2002 ,
The letter came folded in three, stuffed into a cheap white envelope without ceremony or remorse. One line, printed coldly at the bottom of the Manchester City letterhead, said everything:
"We regret to inform you that your scholarship will not be renewed."
The rest of the letter blurred in his hands. Sixteen years old, with a body built like a grown man, Dylan Vaughan stood on the cracked pavement outside his semi-detached home in Stockport, reading the sentence over and over. He looked like the future Viktor Gyökeres—broad-shouldered, imposing, already a predator in the box. But that didn't matter now.
Manchester City didn't want him.
His mum didn't say much when he came inside. The look in her eyes hurt more than anything: not disappointment, not blame—just worry. She tried to feed him, but he waved her off and trudged upstairs, shutting the door with a soft finality.
He collapsed onto his bed, face buried in the pillow. The silence in the room felt louder than the roar of the Etihad on matchday. He had nothing now. No contract. No path. No idea what came next.
Sleep took him like a blackout.
[SYSTEM INITIATING...]
A sharp pulse shot through his mind. He jerked upright in bed, blinking into the darkness. A shimmering screen hovered before his eyes, flickering blue and gold.
Welcome, Dylan Vaughan.
CARD SYSTEM ACTIVATED.
You have been chosen.
His heart slammed in his chest. Was he dreaming? A hallucination?
Only you can see this system. Never reveal it to anyone.
As a new user, you have received a Welcome Pack.
Opening Welcome Pack...
Cards materialized in front of him, floating like digital projections.
[Bronze Card: Dribbling]Name: Josh Ginnelly (Winger - 2002-2025)Level: BronzeEffect: +Small increase in acceleration and close control on the wing.Player Comparison: Josh Ginnelly (League One / Conference star)
[Bronze Card: Passing]Name: George Dobson (Midfielder - 2002-2025)Level: BronzeEffect: +Slight vision and short passing boost when under pressure.Player Comparison: George Dobson (League One captain)
[Bronze Card: Aerial Ability]Name: Matt Rhead (Target Man - 2002-2020)Level: BronzeEffect: +Noticeable improvement in hold-up play and headers in crowded boxes.Player Comparison: Matt Rhead (Conference powerhouse)
[Special Skill Card]Name: Dimitar Berbatov - "Berba Touch"Effect: +Instinctive elegance; superior first touch, flair in tight areas.Description: Allows the user to control difficult balls with elegance and style, creating time and space from nothing.
[Diamond Skill Card]Name: Ruud van Nistelrooy - "Fox in the Box"Effect: +Elite positioning inside the 18-yard box, predator instincts.Description: Automatically find high-value spaces in the penalty area. Converts half-chances into goals.
Dylan stared, eyes wide as the cards pulsed once, then vanished into his chest like data being downloaded.
Skills integrated.
Player Path recalibrating...
Current Status: Free Agent.
Recommendation: Seek local club opportunity. System will adapt with experience.
He sat there, still in silence. The room hadn't changed. The air smelled the same. But everything felt different.
He stood, walked over to his desk, and grabbed his old flip phone. One number still mattered: Coach Doyle.
Peter Doyle had been his first coach, a wiry old Glaswegian who once told Dylan that football was a war of inches and heart. He still helped out at Stockport County and had connections deeper in the lower leagues.
Dylan stared at the number, thumb hovering over the call button.
He took a breath.
Tapped.
It rang twice. Then a groggy voice picked up. "Dylan? Everything alright, lad?"
Dylan hesitated, voice low. "They let me go. City. I'm done there."
A pause. Then a sigh. "Ah. I figured it might be coming. Harsh game sometimes."
"I need a shot, Coach. Anywhere. League Two, Conference, Sunday league with scouts watching. I just... I need one chance."
Another pause, this one longer.
"Still got that hunger, then?"
"More than ever."
Doyle exhaled. "Alright. There's a trial at Southport this Friday. They've had injuries up front. It's not glamorous, but it's football. Show 'em who you are."
Dylan gripped the phone tighter. "Thanks, Coach. I won't waste it."
"You better not. You've got more in you than most of them ever will. Now get some rest. You'll need it."
Dylan hung up, eyes burning.
Outside, the Manchester night stretched dark and cold. But in his chest, the fire had returned.
The System was real. And so was the second chance.