The screen wasn't even on yet—
But everyone was already staring at it.
The training pitch felt tighter than usual.
Not physically.
Mentally.
Players stood in small groups, whispering, guessing, calculating.
Because today—
Was the first ranking reveal.
And everyone knew what that meant.
No more opinions.
No more assumptions.
Only truth.
Lamii stood slightly apart.
Arms relaxed.
Eyes forward.
But inside—
Everything was focused.
This is where I stand…
"You nervous?"
Lamii didn't look at him.
"No."
Adrián smirked.
"You should be."
A pause.
"Because here… numbers decide everything."
Coach Salva stepped forward.
Remote in hand.
No long speech.
No build-up.
Just one sentence:
"Look carefully."
Click.
The screen lit up.
Names.
Numbers.
Order.
Reality.
Top 5
#1 — Mateo
#2 — Adrián
#3 — Hugo
#4 — León
#5 — Sergio
A pause.
Then—
Lamii's Position
#8 — Lamii
Some players exhaled in relief.
Others clenched their fists.
A few looked down.
But Lamii—
Didn't move.
Didn't react.
He just stared.
Top 10…
A pause.
Not enough.
Mateo didn't react either.
No smile.
No pride.
Like #1 was expected.
Like anything else would be wrong.
"Not bad."
Lamii glanced at him.
"But not close."
"You see your position."
Silence.
"This is where you stand…"
A pause.
"…today."
Coach continued:
"Top 3…"
Everyone leaned in.
"…will train with the first team."
The air changed instantly.
Heavier.
Sharper.
More dangerous.
That meant:
Mateo.
Adrián.
Hugo.
Five places away…
Coach raised his hand.
"This ranking is not permanent."
A pause.
"You can rise…"
Another.
"Or fall."
"Today…"
Coach stepped back.
"We start matches."
"5v5."
"Fast games."
"Limited touches."
"Win—stay."
"Lose—drop."
No time to adapt.
No time to think.
Just perform.
Lamii stepped onto the pitch.
Heart steady.
Mind sharp.
The whistle blew.
Instant intensity.
No warm-up.
No slow start.
Ball came.
Lamii moved.
Fast.
But not fast enough.
Pressure.
Loss.
Even at #8—
Nothing was easy.
Next play—
He didn't hesitate.
One touch.
Pass.
Move.
Better.
Not perfect.
But better.
His team scored.
Stayed.
Next match.
Another win.
Then—
A loss.
Lamii stepped off briefly.
Breathing heavier.
Still inconsistent…
On the main pitch—
Mateo played.
And it wasn't close.
Every touch—
Perfect.
Every move—
Ahead.
Every opponent—
Late.
Untouchable
No one could take the ball from him.
No one could read him.
No one could stop him.
That's #1…
At one point—
Tension rose instantly.
Fast.
Sharp.
Intense.
Adrián tried.
Creative.
Aggressive.
Calm.
Controlled.
Effortless.
Mateo won.
Clean.
Again.
Even #2—
Was behind.
From the side—
Lamii saw everything.
Analyzed everything.
This is the level I need…
Lamii returned.
Focused.
Determined.
He stopped reacting.
Started initiating.
Ball came.
He moved early.
Before pressure.
Before danger.
Quick turn.
Sharp pass.
Perfect timing.
Goal.
Players noticed.
Again.
"You're improving."
Lamii replied:
"I have to."
Then—
It happened.
Lamii vs Mateo.
Ball between them.
No space.
No time.
Fast.
Instinct.
No hesitation.
Still faster.
Still ahead.
But—
For one second—
Lamii broke through.
Mateo blinked.
Just once.
Not Victory
But not failure.
Progress.
Whistle blew.
Players gathered again.
Exhausted.
Focused.
Waiting.
Screen lit again.
New rankings.
Names moved.
Positions changed.
#5 — Lamii
Small murmurs.
Recognition.
Respect.
Adrián Looked
"Not bad."
Mateo
Still #1.
Unmoved.
"Next evaluation…"
A pause.
"Decides first team call-up."
Heavy.
Serious.
Real.
Lamii looked at the board.
From #8…
To #5.
The Goal
Top 3.
This wasn't just a ranking anymore.
It was a ladder.
And Lamii had just taken his first real step—
Toward the top.