"Hey, Roland!"
A boy with a runny nose sprinted toward the stands, his voice echoing across the field. His breathing was ragged by the time he reached a section of the stands where a lone figure sat, gazing at the sky.
The boy climbed up the steps and stood before Roland, who was completely lost in thought. He frowned, then shook Roland's shoulder.
"Hey, bro!"
No response.
Frowning, he waved his hands over Roland's face, blocking his view of the sky.
"Hey! What are you spacing out for?" he shouted.
Roland blinked, finally snapping out of his trance. His eyes landed on the outstretched hands in front of his face.
"What are you doing?"
"I was calling you, but you didn't answer."
"Oh, sorry about that. I was thinking about something."
The boy's expression softened. "Was it your parents?"
Roland hesitated, then sighed. "Yeah… something like that."
"Don't worry, they'll be here soon. Probably just stuck in traffic." The boy patted his shoulder. "Why don't we go play some football? It'll help take your mind off things."
Roland shook his head. "Nah, I'm not really in the mood for a match."
The boy groaned dramatically. "Come on, man! You're not doing anything except sitting here staring at space."
Roland smirked. "And what are you gonna be doing?"
"Playing, obviously."
"You?" Roland raised a brow. "What, are you going to be the keeper or something?"
The boy scoffed. "No way. You know I hate keeping. I'll be playing midfield—controlling the game, making plays, setting up passes."
Roland chuckled. "Henry, I don't think that's a good idea."
Henry frowned. "Why not? I want to play too."
"Why don't you just rest today? Maybe do some training instead?"
Henry crossed his arms. "Nope. I'm playing."
Roland shrugged. "Alright, whatever you say." He stood up and stretched. "Give me a minute. Let me change my shoes real quick."
"Hurry up! The match is about to start."
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you."
Roland jogged to the locker room. A few minutes later, he emerged wearing black leather boots with small spikes underneath. His blue jersey, lined with black and white stripes along the back, fit snugly over his frame. The number 8 was printed boldly on the back, just above the name Rowwy.
He ran up to Henry. "I think I'm good to go."
Henry eyed him curiously. "Do you think I'm missing anything?"
Roland smirked. "So you did plan on playing all along, huh?"
Henry grinned. "Maybe."
Henry nudged Roland playfully.
Roland didn't say anything at first, then let out a small sigh.
"Let's go."
Grabbing Henry by the wrist, he pulled him toward the field.
As soon as they stepped onto the grass, a few classmates called out to them.
"Hey, Henry!""Hey, Roland!"
A bunch of their classmates waved at them as they jogged onto the field.
"Are you guys ready?"
"Sure!!"
A boy with green hair and piercing blue eyes strode toward them, a captain's band wrapped tightly around his bicep. His confident stride and relaxed demeanor made it clear he was in charge.
"Alright, Roland, you'll be playing striker. Henry, you'll be our keeper."
Henry frowned. "What do you mean, Alex? I thought you said I'd play midfield today."
Alex gave him a warm, almost apologetic smile.
"We don't have a keeper today. He didn't show up, and you're the only one we can count on. The rest of us are terrible at it."
"But…" Henry hesitated, looking between Alex and Roland.
Before he could protest further, Roland placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Just bear with it," Roland said. "Whenever you really want to play in midfield, just let me know. I don't mind staying at the post for a while. I'm not that bad as a keeper."
Henry's lips curled into a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Roland."
Alex, standing to the side, briefly frowned before forcing his usual confident smile back onto his face.
"What are you d—"
"Henry wants to play too," Roland interrupted, facing Alex directly. "If he hadn't dragged me here, I probably wouldn't have even considered playing today. So either agree, or I'll just go back to the stands."
For a moment, Alex stared at Roland in frustration. Then, with a begrudging sigh, he muttered, "Fine."
With that settled, Henry jogged to the goalpost while Roland took his position at the front, leading the attack.
The match kicked off. Roland quickly got into his rhythm, scoring two goals. Meanwhile, Henry remained mostly unchallenged as the opposing team struggled to get close to the goal.
Then—
Crack! Crack!
Henry, who had been keeping watch at the post, stiffened. His ears perked up as he scanned the field. He wasn't the only one who noticed—others had also stopped playing, looking around for the source of the sound.
Leaving his position, Henry jogged toward Roland, who was standing near the halfway line.
"Did you hear that, Roland?"
Roland nodded, his expression serious. "Yeah. Loud and clear."
"It sounded like… glass breaking."
"But this was way louder. Everyone heard it."
Then, a shadow fell over them.
Henry's breath hitched as he looked up.
High above the field, a jagged crack had formed in the sky, splitting reality like shattered glass. Through the fissure, an eerie, bluish gaseous substance leaked into the atmosphere.
Then—
The gas poured in faster.
A powerful gust of wind surged through the area as the sky itself began to change. The once-clear blue heavens darkened to a swirling, unnatural shade of deep blue. The very air around them shifted, growing heavy, dense… alien.
The ground rumbled.
Mountains trembled.
Birds, mid-flight, dropped lifelessly from the sky.
Panic spread through the field.
"What the hell is going on?!" Roland shouted, his eyes darting across the landscape.
Then—
"ARRRGHH!!"
A bloodcurdling scream tore through the silence.
A boy clutched his chest, his face contorted in agony.
One by one, others followed—clutching at their chests, gasping for air, falling to their knees.
Henry felt it too. A pressure unlike anything he had ever experienced crushed against his ribs, his heartbeat hammering against his chest like a drum of war.
Then, a voice—cold, unfeeling, and ancient—echoed in their minds.
[Mana has arrived. Let the apocalypse begin.]
The earth trembled violently.
[The Era of Gods is over. Let the Legacies prevail.]
The sky darkened further.
[The Ancients are waking.]
[The Abominations are being born.]
[Nightmares have become reality.]
[You may now view your status window.]
Before Henry's eyes, glowing text materialized in midair.
[STATUS WINDOW]
Name: Ray
Legacy: Null
Level: 0
Race: Human
Title: None
Strength: 12
Agility: 11
Health: 10
Stamina: 10
Mana: 109
Magic: 109
Henry's breath hitched.
This… wasn't normal.