"Is this about me switching my nationality?" Zachary asked cautiously, remembering the time he had decided to represent Ivory Coast instead of DR Congo at the World Cup. "Is this about me playing for Ivory Coast?"
The phantom let out another chuckle, the sound like dry leaves rustling in the wind. "Oh, no." It waved its hand dismissively. "Those divisions of countries, those borders—they mean nothing to me, and they mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. I didn't care whether you played for DR Congo, Ivory Coast, or even Argentina."
Zachary frowned, confusion knitting his brow. "Then what is this about?"
The phantom's eyes narrowed, and its smile faded into something darker, more serious. "This is no longer just about your desire. You see, your homeland… isn't just DR Congo or Ivory Coast. It's something much bigger. It's the entire Planet Earth."
Zachary blinked, completely taken aback. "Planet Earth? What are you talking about?"
The phantom hovered closer, its form shimmering with the same eerie energy that filled the room. "You wanted greatness. You wanted to make an impact. You wanted to help your homeland. But your homeland, Zachary, isn't confined to these arbitrary borders humans have created. Your destiny is tied to something far greater."
Zachary took a step back, his confusion deepening. "What are you saying? Why are you talking about Earth? I've been focused on football, on my career, on doing something great in my sport."
The phantom chuckled again, this time with a darker edge. It raised its arm and twisted its hand in the air. Suddenly, the sparks that had been floating aimlessly around the room converged toward the phantom, swirling into a tight vortex before disappearing into its translucent form.
Zachary's heart skipped a beat as the room went dark, the flickering lights now extinguished. His pulse quickened. Whatever this was, it wasn't good.
"It's time, Zachary," the phantom said, its voice soft but commanding. "I'm taking back the system. You no longer need it."
Zachary's eyes widened in shock. "What? What do you mean, you're taking it back?" He had grown accustomed to the system, almost dependent on it, even though he had relied less on it in recent months. But to lose it now?
The phantom's eyes locked onto Zachary, its gaze intense. "You have grown strong, yes. But you've become too reliant on the gifts I gave you. Now, you must continue to grow without the system. It's time for you to face the real challenges of life—the struggles, the hardships—without any assistance. Only then can you truly achieve greatness."
Zachary felt a pang of frustration rise in his chest. "I've also worked hard. I didn't just rely on the system. I trained. I fought. I think I earned my place."
The phantom smiled faintly. "I don't doubt your effort, young man. But hard times are coming. Times where the system cannot protect you. You will face trials—both on and off the pitch—that will test your resolve. And only through these struggles will you discover your true potential."
Zachary clenched his fists. He wasn't sure if it was anger, fear, or a mix of both, but something inside him bristled at the phantom's words. "What kind of trials? What are you talking about?"
The phantom's form began to flicker again, as if it was fading from existence. Its voice, however, remained steady and cold. "You'll see soon enough. But understand this—if you hope to achieve the greatness you seek, you must go through this without the system. You must fight, you must fail, and you must learn. Only then will you be ready for the true test. And only then will you be able to help not just your homeland, but the entire world."
Zachary's mind was spinning. What was this phantom talking about? What "true test"? What did it mean to "help the entire world"? He opened his mouth to ask, but before he could form the words, the phantom began to dissolve, its silhouette breaking apart like dust in the wind.
"Wait!" Zachary called out, but the phantom was already disappearing, its body melting away into the shadows. Within moments, it was gone, leaving Zachary standing alone in the dimly lit room, his heart still racing.
For a few moments, he stood there, his thoughts filled with confusion and disbelief. Did that really just happen? Was the system really gone? There was only one way to find out.
Zachary raised his hand again, the way he always did to summon the system. "System."
Nothing. No flicker of light, no holographic screen. Just silence.
Zachary's stomach dropped. He tried again, his voice louder this time. "System!"
But again, nothing happened. No response.
The phantom had been telling the truth. The system was gone.
Zachary let out a long breath, his hands dropping to his sides.
A strange sense of loss washed over him. The system had been with him for so long, helping him in ways that few could ever imagine. And now, just like that, it was gone.
But then, as the initial shock began to fade, a new feeling emerged. A sense of defiance.
The system may have been taken away, but Zachary still had his skills. His SSS-grade physical stats remained. His strength, his stamina, his speed—they were all still there.
And more than that, he had the experience of years of top-level football. He had already proven he could dominate matches, system or no system.
"I don't need it," Zachary muttered to himself, clenching his fists. "I'm still as skillful as before. And I'll prove it."
He walked over to the window, staring out into the quiet streets of Woolton. The city lights twinkled in the distance, and the soft hum of the evening buzzed faintly in the background. He had faced challenges before, and he had come out stronger every time.
The phantom's words echoed in his mind—hard times are coming—but Zachary wasn't afraid. He was determined. Whatever those challenges were, he would face them head-on.