Blue lock: Reborn Egoist

The following days blurred together in a whirlwind of relentless training. Eito's body was worn down—his muscles aching from endless drills, his mind constantly running, assessing, calculating the next move. Every morning, he would push himself to the limit, refusing to give in to exhaustion. His father, Ego, was unforgiving in his expectations, and Eito felt that pressure with every passing moment.

At five years old, Eito knew he wasn't like the other children. He wasn't just playing for fun; he was playing for something greater. He was playing to become the best, to be more than anyone expected him to be. And to do that, he needed to surpass his limits.

Each day, Ego put him through grueling exercises. The older boys Eito had trained with were still there, and they were getting faster, more competitive, but so was Eito. His speed had improved, his agility sharpened. His stamina, a crucial element of his growth, had steadily risen. Every improvement felt like a victory, but every victory only made the next challenge harder.

And Ego made sure to remind him of that.

Today, like every other day, was no different.

Eito was in the small training room, running sprints back and forth across the field, his feet pounding the ground with each step. His Stamina had reached 42, but it wasn't enough yet. Not for Ego. The older boys were right behind him, pushing him, keeping him in a constant state of competition. The intensity of the drills never let up.

Ego stood in the corner of the room, arms crossed, eyes locked on Eito. "Faster. Push yourself harder. You're still holding back."

Eito's breath came in quick, shallow bursts, his legs trembling from the effort, but he kept moving. He had learned that when Ego spoke, there was no room for hesitation, no time for weakness. He had to prove himself every second, every minute, of every day.

The ball was brought in next, and it was time to shift gears. Eito's Focus was tested as he dribbled the ball through a series of cones, trying to maintain control while pushing the limits of his speed and coordination. His movements were fluid but still lacked the grace and precision he craved.

Ego's voice broke through the rhythm of Eito's movements. "You're still thinking. Stop thinking and act. Instinct, Eito. React before you even realize it."

Eito's heart beat faster at the command, a familiar wave of frustration rising inside him. He could feel the pressure of his father's expectations like a weight pressing down on his chest. The Ego stat still hadn't been unlocked, and Eito knew this was the missing link. Ego wasn't something that could be taught or coached—it had to come from within, something deep inside Eito that would push him beyond the limits of his training.

He sprinted harder, his feet flying across the turf, the ball at his feet. He didn't think; he decided. A burst of energy shot through him as he shifted his body, feinting one way, then darting in the opposite direction. The older boys couldn't keep up. For the first time, Eito felt his Instinct guide him, pushing him to act before the thought even formed in his mind.

As the ball reached the makeshift goal, Eito took the shot. It wasn't perfect, but it was instinctual. The ball sailed past the defenders and hit the net with a soft thud. Eito stood frozen, his body still thrumming with energy, the adrenaline racing through his veins.

It wasn't a perfect shot, but it was enough.

Ximena clapped from the sideline, a proud smile on her face. "That was better, Eito. You're getting there."

But Ego was silent. His eyes were intense, evaluating the play. After a long pause, he spoke.

"Better," Ego said, his voice quieter this time. "But there's still room for improvement. You need to trust yourself more. Don't second-guess your instincts. You can feel the game now, but you must have the confidence to take it to the next level."

Eito stood still, his chest heaving with exertion. He had scored. But the words from his father hung in the air like an unspoken challenge. Trust me more.

He understood what Ego meant. The hesitation—the uncertainty in his movements—had been the barrier. But now, he could feel the rhythm of the game. He was starting to understand how to think as a striker, and how to make those instinctual decisions. But there was still something missing. His Ego was still undefined.

He wasn't just playing for the win; he was playing to prove his worth. To prove that he was the best. His father's expectations were high, and they would always be. But Eito wasn't afraid anymore. He was ready for what came next.

Ego motioned to the older boys, who stood with their arms crossed, clearly impressed but still holding back. "We'll go again. This time, I want you to push further. No holding back. I want to see how well you handle true competition."

Eito nodded, his heart racing with anticipation. He was ready. The next phase of his training had begun, and this was where he would make his mark.

But then, Ego's voice rang out again, more serious than before.

"You'll be leaving soon, Eito. I've arranged for you to join a youth team. A team in Spain. They're known for being incredibly tough—competitive in a way that will push you to your absolute limit. You'll have to prove yourself there. It won't be easy."

Eito's mind raced at the mention of Spain. He had trained in isolation, only facing the older boys as competition. But now, he was being sent to a team abroad—a real test of his abilities. A painful youth team, one known for being brutal, where only the strongest survived. His heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of excitement and anxiety rising within him.

"You will face real pressure there," Ego continued, his eyes narrowing. "The competition will be fierce. They won't care about who you are or where you come from. You'll need to fight for every spot, every minute on the field. You need to find your ego. You need to find what drives you. It's time to leave this small world behind and enter the real one. Prove your worth."

Eito froze. Spain. A real youth team. The challenge was immense, but he couldn't back down. He had to face it head-on. This was the opportunity he had been training for, the chance to test himself against the best.

"I'll be ready," Eito said, his voice firm. The journey was about to change, and he was determined to prove he belonged.

Ego nodded slightly. "Good. We leave in two days. Pack your things."