The first rays of sunlight invaded the small bedroom, warming Gabriel Ângelo's face. Still lying down, he blinked a few times, as if trying to distinguish the real world from the one he had experienced the night before.
'The Meta-Vision…'The white field, the projected players, the invisible paths… it was all still pulsing inside him. It felt like his brain had been rebooted. A strange clarity hovered over his thoughts.
He stretched slowly and heard a sound from the kitchen—clattering pans, the smell of coffee, and a woman's voice humming a country song. His mother. Saturday morning. The only day no one had to rush.
Gabriel jumped out of bed. He wore a worn-out Pikachu T-shirt and faded blue shorts. He opened the door gently and saw the sunlit living room. In the kitchen, his mother stirred the coffee and smiled as he approached.
"Good morning, my little bird," she said, opening her arms.
Gabriel ran in for a hug. Feeling that warmth, that motherly affection… that too was a superpower.
"Mom, I had a crazy dream last night."
"Really? Gonna tell me while eating some bread?"
He nodded, laughing. He sat at the table while she placed a cup of milk and buttered bread in front of him.
A few minutes later, his father appeared in the kitchen doorway, still wearing his Atlético Mineiro shirt, hair messy, and yawning loudly.
"What's that delicious smell?" he asked, sitting with a grin and settling his beer belly on the table.
Gabriel watched the two of them. His mother—gentle and strong. His father—football fanatic, short, deep-voiced, with a beer belly that looked like a walking pillow. A contrast that made their home spin.
"Dad…" Gabriel started, his voice calm. "Do you still play soccer with your friends?"
"Not anymore! I just watch now. Those old geezers don't run anymore. Why?"
"It's just… I want to play too."
His dad stopped chewing.
"Play?"
"Soccer. Like… at a school."
Silence. His mother turned around, interested. His father furrowed his brow, scratched his patchy beard, then smiled.
"You're serious, Gabi?"
"I am. I want to train. I want to learn. I want to be really good."
His dad stood up, opened his arms theatrically, and said loudly:
"The boy takes after his old man! Look at that, woman! That's Atlético blood running in his veins!"
Gabriel laughed. His mom shook her head, but she was smiling too.
"There's a soccer school at the association's field, remember? I think Toninho still coaches on Saturdays and Wednesdays. I can ask him."
"Really?"
"Well, if you want to, let's do it! But you gotta study, listen to your mom, and no slacking off, got it?"
Gabriel jumped from the chair and hugged his dad tightly.
"Thank you!"
At that moment, he felt a new phase was beginning. It wasn't just about dreams anymore. It was about action.
Later, in his room, Gabriel stared at the ceiling again.
The afternoon sun shone faintly through the window. He lay on his back, hugging the old ball Eliena had found in a closet.
The nanny, now on the couch, was watching a cooking show, occasionally glancing at the boy with affection.
Camila was still asleep. Teenagers on weekends were like that.
Gabriel, on the other hand, could only think about what was coming.
Real training. Amateur, sure. But real. People actually running. Real mistakes. Real goals.
The kind of experience he needed to evolve.
And he knew that when he fell asleep that night, the Ego System would be waiting.
His mind was awakened. But his body, still that of a child, needed care. That's why dexterity, endurance, and IQ would be his focus—until he grew enough for more.
Tomorrow's training would come with a new mission. And he was ready.
Or better yet...He would be ready.
Because deep inside, something already whispered:
"This world… will have to swallow me whole."
The afternoon passed slowly, with the little town moving to its usual Saturday rhythm. Few cars on the street, kids playing in the building's yard, and a dry breeze announcing another hot day in the countryside.
Gabriel spent most of the time watching from the apartment's balcony. The cracked asphalt street had potholes he had memorized like landmines. Occasionally, a familiar face would wave—Dona Cida, Mr. Mauro from the bar, the lady from the fabric store… It was a town where everyone knew everyone.
But that afternoon, Gabriel's mind wasn't there.
It was on the field.
On passes, dribbles, tactical movements, mental plays. As if his soul was constantly replaying imaginary scenarios.
Across the room, Eliena watched him discreetly.
The 28-year-old nanny, always patient, had noticed early on there was something special about the boy. Not just his intelligence or maturity, but the way he seemed to "see beyond."
"What are you thinking about, little one?" she asked, bringing him a glass of fresh juice.
"Soccer," he replied, taking the glass with a shy smile. "And… how I'm going to be good at it."
"Well, by training, right? Just like anyone else."
"But I don't want to just be good…" he said, eyes on the horizon. "I want to be the best."
Eliena smiled to herself. That reminded her of someone—actually, him.
"Your dad used to say that when he was little. Always playing barefoot, with flip-flops for goalposts and scraped-up knees. His nickname was 'Gegê Iron Shin.'"
Gabriel laughed. Iron Shin?
"Really?"
"Really. But he gave up later. Life is tough, Gabi. Sometimes we let go of dreams because they feel too far away, you know?"
He looked into her eyes.
"Then I'll chase mine while it's still close."
His response was dry, direct, and far too strong for a five-year-old. Eliena stared at Gabriel for a long moment before standing and patting his head affectionately.
"You're right, little one. Just don't forget to be a kid sometimes too."
That night, the house was calmer. Camila had gone to sleep over at a friend's. His dad was watching a game from the Campeonato Mineiro on TV, shouting at the referee and making dramatic comments.
"THAT'S A FOUL, YOU BLIND IDIOT!" he yelled, his belly shaking.
His mom was sitting on a rocking chair, embroidering but smiling at the chaos. She loved that mess. It meant everyone was okay.
Gabriel brushed his teeth, put on his blue Batman pajamas, and went to his dad with a request:
"If I wake up early, will you take me to the soccer school tomorrow?"
His dad let out a loud laugh and replied:
"If you're up before the roosters, I'll take you on a motorbike if I have to! But sleep early, got it?"
Gabriel smiled, said good night to his mom, and went straight to bed.
Lying there, his eyes took a while to close.
Will I already be able to use Meta-Vision in a real game tomorrow?What will the coach be like?Will they laugh at me for being small?
The doubts came like clouds.
But the will… was like the sun.
And then, when sleep finally claimed him…
[Initiating Nighttime Training Session – Ego System]
A sharp sound pierced the void. The blinding white light spread again. Gabriel opened his eyes and once more found himself in that immaculate field of infinite possibilities.
And there he was.
The slim, glasses-wearing shadow, hands in his pockets, cold and piercing stare.
["You're starting to understand, Gabriel. But you're still far off."]
"What are we training today?"
["Meta-Vision, Level 2. You've learned to anticipate a play. Now, you'll learn to react to the unpredictable."]
Five players appeared on the field again. The ball started rolling. But this time… nothing followed a pattern. One player slipped. Another made a wrong pass. A third tripped and touched it by accident.
["Football isn't just calculation. It's chaos. It's improvisation."]
Gabriel narrowed his eyes. Tactical lines blurred. Pressure zones shifted. But he tried. He saw.
"There!"
He ran, intercepted a bad pass, turned instantly, and played into the empty space a teammate would occupy seconds later.
["Good read. Still unstable."]
[Mini-challenge completed: Adapting to the Unpredictable][+1 IQ | +1 Proficiency: Meta-Vision (Level 3)]
Gabriel panted. His real-world body trembled under the blanket. But he held on.
He wanted this.
He needed this.
["Tomorrow will be your first test. A simple training. But everything starts with the first pass. Go and show why you were reborn."]
The voice faded like dust in the wind.
6:01 AM. Sunday.
The alarm hadn't even gone off.
Gabriel was already up, wearing a worn Cruzeiro shirt—an old gift from his mom he only agreed to wear for training—and the baggiest shorts he could find. His cleats… were borrowed from a cousin.
He took a deep breath.
In the mirror, he didn't see a child.
He saw a dream hunter.
He left the room and found his father already in the kitchen with a coffee mug and his Galo cap on.
"Uai, already up?"
"A promise is a promise. Let's go?"
His dad grinned wide, and together, they walked out the door under the orange dawn sky.
The association's field awaited.
And Gabriel……was ready to take the first step toward the impossible.