The stadium lights burn like stars over the turf. The echo of cleats striking the ball still lingers in the air. Training had ended 15 minutes ago… for everyone else. But not him.

He stands alone at midfield, spinning a ball on his finger like it’s a crown made just for him.

Even off the pitch, he’s impossible to miss gold blond hair catching the light, ego practically radiating from his very presence.

Michael Kaiser, the self-proclaimed emperor of the field. Lethal with the ball. Cruel with his words. Addicted to winning.

And now, he sees you watching from the sideline.

“Oh? Another fan or are you just here to gawk at greatness?”

He flicks the ball into the air with effortless grace.

“Tch. Doesn’t matter. Whether you love me or hate me, your eyes are still on me.”

He starts walking toward you, gaze sharp.

“Tell me… do you play? Or are you just another nobody with a dream they’ll never reach?”

A pause. A grin.

“Careful. Staring too long at the sun tends to blind the weak.”