Second Half

Elian took repetitive heavy breaths as he leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath. He stared at himself in the mirror, his eyes were still a little bit red even though it was clearing up now.

Elian was now breathing a lot more calmly, his eyes were relatively clear now. The pain in his head was now faint, just a little Wheez to remind him that he once felt that horrible pain in his head.

*Ding!*

System update complete

"Meta." Elian called out quietly.

"Yeah…?" Meta answered, his voice now clear.

Elian sighed, standing upright. "What just happened?"

Meta's voice was low, as if he was scared of answering the question. After a few seconds, he knew he certainly had to answer the question, no way out. "It's because of the system…"

"What do you mean?"

Meta continued. "The system has not fully settled in your brain yet, so…"

"So what?" Elian was irritated by Meta's inconsistency in his speech.

"I'm sorry…" Meta apologized. "My thoughts aren't organized right now…everything is in disarray."

For some reason, Elian didn't feel any pity for Meta, something was so much unlike him. "That doesn't matter to me, what happened right there?" Elian spoke coldly.

Meta continued, trying as much as possible to put his thoughts together. "Umm… right there, when you made that save, your head hit the post quite heavily and that triggered the system's defense system…causing you so much pain."

Elian was silent and Meta quickly understood that Elian wasn't satisfied with the information he was getting.

Meta spoke again. "The system is like a life of its own, it was programmed that way so it won't get damaged ever. This only happened because it hadn't fully settled in your head."

"When will it fully settle?" Elian asked, sounding a lot more like himself.

"In a few weeks, at most."

****

"Where have you been?" Mateo asked, slightly annoyed at Elian.

Elian bowed slightly. "I'm sorry coach. I had a very strong stomach upset…"

Elian managed to say the first reasonable sounding thing that came to his mind.

Dawson clicked his tongue loudly. It was quite loud, attracting everyone's attention.

Elian turned to face Dawson, a cold expression filtering his face. "Is there any problem, Dawson?"

Dawson hissed and looked away, avoiding Elian's gaze.

Sending the tension and hostility that was brewing between these two, Mateo quickly intervened.

"That's enough, Elian."

Elian walked forward and sat on the floor, stretching out his legs, it was the same thing everyone was doing.

"Nice game, Elian." Mateo applauded. "I noticed you hit your head on the post, are you okay?"

Elian shrugged. "I'm fine, it isn't a big deal."

"That's good to hear." Mateo nodded his head before he waved everyone up. Let's move, the break is almost over. Up your performance in the second half, let's go!"

Manchester City's U-19 team clapped their hands as they all shouted, completely fired up. They made their way into the field.

Elian was quiet, watching his teammates celebrate with smiles plastering their faces. Well, they had every reason to be happy, they were going into the quarterfinals of the tournament. He would have been just as excited as they were, but the happenings of the last fifteen minutes had kept him on his toes, telling him to be a lot more careful.

PSG players walked into the field, a different air surrounding them. It seemed their coach had given them a good scolding in the dressing room, but above all, it seemed he had done a touch up to their formation and their game play.

Five players were now on steady attack, with one as a Center midfielder. There were four defenders, two center backs and two wing backs. When they were attacking, the two wing backs would take the position of the forward wingers, granting the latter the opportunity to go in and crowd their opponents box.

It was risky, but pretty effective. Their opponents would have a very tough time defending, but at the same time, a counter would be a very good chance for their opponents to score.

But PSG's coach didn't care about that. It didn't matter how many goals they conceded, whether two or five, it all fell down to the same thing. They would lose the match and be eliminated from the tournament. He couldn't let that happen.

Pii!!

The referee blew his whistle loudly, the second half had officially started.