The floodlights at Galaxy Youth Academy cut clean lines through the night.
This was Ace's second official match in the LA Galaxy system.
Sacramento Republic Academy stood across from them. Fast. Physical. Relentless with their press. The kind of team that punished hesitation without mercy.
There were more people in the stands tonight. Not just parents and staff. First-team scouts. Media. Cameras already rolling before kickoff.
Ace stood in the tunnel, white-and-blue kit on his back, the No. 10 sitting heavier than it should.
Not pressure. Expectation.
Inside his head, the noise never stopped.
I died once watching greatness from a distance.
Now I'm here.
Contract signed. Cameras watching. People already digging into my life.
I chose this.
All of it.
The faint blue system screen hovered at the edge of his vision.
[Daily Task Active]
Score or assist at least 1 goal.
Reward: 500 EXP + Random High-Grade Skill Card
The whistle blew.
First Half
Sacramento didn't wait.
From the first touch, they pressed high and hard.
3' — Galaxy tried to build from the back. One slow touch, one bad angle, and Sacramento were through. Their striker didn't hesitate.
Low shot. Rebound. Finish.
0–1.
The stadium fell quiet.
Ace exhaled slowly.
Not like this.
8' — He dropped deeper. Demanded the ball. One touch, two touches, quick release. The tempo was sharper than anything he'd played before.
Faster decisions. Less space. No forgiveness.
12' — Sacramento nearly struck again. Another turnover forced by pressure. Another shot that skimmed just wide.
The warning was clear.
Ace adjusted.
18' — He received between the lines and triggered Phantom Shadow Dribble.
For a split second, his body blurred.
Two midfielders bit on the wrong movement.
He slipped past them, carried forward, and threaded a clean pass into space for Marcus.
The cross came in.
Cleared again.
Close. Not enough.
22' — Corner for Galaxy.
Ace stepped up.
Deep breath. One glance at the box.
He whipped the ball in with pace.
Lucas met it clean, forcing a sharp save.
The rebound dropped loose.
Ace reacted first.
One touch. Strike.
The net snapped.
1–1.
The crowd came alive again.
Diego grabbed him. "That's our No. 10!"
Ace didn't celebrate long. He was already turning back toward midfield.
Not finished.
The rest of the half stayed tight.
Sacramento pressed. Galaxy adjusted.
No more goals.
Locker Room
The air was tense, but different now. Not panic. Focus.
Coach Harlan started to speak, but Ace stood first.
"We're fine," he said, calm but firm. "They got one because we hesitated. That's over."
A few heads lifted.
"We match their pace. We stay sharp. We don't rush. One clean moment decides this."
Diego nodded. "We're with you, Ace."
No speeches. No drama.
Just clarity.
Second Half
Galaxy came out sharper.
Faster passing. Cleaner movement.
47' — Ace won the ball in midfield and pushed forward immediately. One-two with Diego. A gap opened.
He slipped into the box.
Phantom Shadow Dribble flickered again.
The defender froze just enough.
Ace squared it across goal—
Marcus met it.
Blocked.
The chance died.
Ace clicked his tongue softly.
Margins.
65' — Sacramento answered. Quick break. Dangerous cross. Cleared at the last second.
The match stretched. End-to-end, but controlled chaos.
78' — Ace tried from distance. 25 yards out. Clean strike.
Saved.
85' — One final push.
Ace picked the ball up deep, drove forward, cut past one, then another. Space opened for a split second.
He slipped a pass through to Diego.
Return ball.
Ace hit it first time—
Deflected.
Corner.
Nothing came from it.
90' + 3
Final whistle.
Final Score: 1–1
There was no explosion. No pile of bodies. No last-second hero moment.
Just heavy breathing.
Mixed expressions.
A draw.
Coach Harlan clapped his hands once. "Better response after the start. But we're not settling for draws."
His eyes landed on Ace.
"You stabilized us. Good. Now learn how to finish games."
Ace nodded.
"I will."
Diego walked beside him toward the tunnel.
"You still changed the game," he said.
Ace didn't smile.
"Not enough."
Post-Match
The cameras were waiting again.
More this time.
More questions.
"Alex Rivera, a goal tonight and clear influence in midfield. How do you assess your performance?"
Ace kept his tone even.
"We reacted well after conceding. But we dropped points. That's what matters."
Another voice cut through.
"Alex, there are multiple clips circulating online of a blonde woman seen leaving with you after games and training. Social media is calling her 'Ace's Mystery Blonde.' Any comment?"
The question hung in the air.
Closer than before.
Louder than before.
Ace didn't hesitate.
"My focus is football," he said. "Everything else is private."
No irritation. No denial. No explanation.
Just control.
He walked off.
Tunnel
His phone buzzed nonstop.
Messages. Mentions. Clips already spreading.
One text stood out.
Emma:
Saw the interview.
You handled it perfectly.
When you're free… I'll make you forget the cameras again.
Ace stared at it for a second.
Then locked his phone.
Out on the pitch, a draw.
Inside, something sharper.
One point.
But it didn't feel like enough.