The BLUE SCREEN was absolute, blinding, pressing in on Leon from all sides.

He stumbled, reaching out blindly, utterly disoriented. Byon and Alex's voices were distant, muffled, as if filtered through water. He felt a cold panic seize him.

His 'sight', his 'Current: 84', his entire perception of the world, was gone, replaced by an incomprehensible, shimmering blue void.

"Wh-where am I?" Leon stammered, his own voice sounding thin and small in the vast, silent blue. "What's going on?!"

Suddenly, a figure materialized out of the blue, as if painted onto the canvas of the void. He was a man, impeccably dressed in a dark, tailored suit that looked like it belonged to the 1800s.

A high collar, a perfectly knotted cravat, and a top hat perched elegantly on his head.

He had a trim, aristocratic beard and kind, knowing eyes that seemed to twinkle with ancient wisdom. He looked utterly out of place, yet perfectly at home in this bizarre, ethereal space.

The man smiled, a gentle, almost grandfatherly expression.

"Ah, Leon. There you are. Welcome." His voice was smooth, resonant, echoing in the blue expanse.

Leon stared, bewildered.

"Who are you? And where is 'here'?" His mind raced, trying to make sense of this impossible situation. Was he dreaming? Was he unconscious?

The man chuckled softly, and began to walk, his steps making no sound on the invisible floor. Leon found himself inexplicably following, unable to look away. "A very good question, Leon. And one that requires a touch of explanation.

As for who I am... you could say I am the one who gave you your 'sight'.

The ability to perceive 'Potential' and 'Current' abilities. And, dare I say, the founder of football itself."

Leon stopped dead. "The founder of... football? My ability? Are you serious? This is crazy! I don't believe you!"

The man paused, turning to face Leon, his smile unwavering. "Oh, but it is true, Leon. And your disbelief is quite natural. Many would feel the same.

But consider. How else did you gain such a peculiar gift? A gift, I might add, that you have used most admirably."

He continued walking, and Leon, despite himself, followed. "You are a remarkable young man, Leon Fischer. I have observed many with this gift over the centuries.

You see, when I first conceived of this beautiful game, I wished for its spirit to be truly understood, for the hidden depths of talent to be recognized. So, I bestowed this 'sight' upon certain individuals, chosen for their passion, their drive."

He paused, a flicker of disappointment crossing his ancient eyes. "But, tragically, most who received this gift used it only for themselves.

To advance their own careers. To seek out personal glory. They saw the 'Potential' and 'Current' in others, yes, but rarely did they extend a hand. Never, truly, did they embrace the spirit of upliftment."

The man turned, his gaze softening as it rested on Leon. "But you, Leon. You are different. You helped young Byon refine his game, pushed him towards his true calling, even when it meant he went to a rival club.

You saw the raw 'Potential: 95' in Alex Turner, a boy lost to the professional game, and brought him into your world. You went searching for more, driven not just by personal ambition, but by a desire to nurture unseen talent. You truly helped two, perhaps three, people to become footballers, to unlock what I had already seen within them."

Leon felt a blush. He hadn't thought of it like that. He'd just been following his instincts, his conviction.

The man chuckled, a warm, resonant sound.

"And for that, Leon, you are unique. You embody the true spirit of football: not just competition, but connection. Not just individual brilliance, but collective upliftment. And for that, you deserve a gift."

He extended a hand, his touch light, ethereal.

"I will give you a System. But not just any System. Many have Systems now, you see, individuals across the globe who, like you, possess special abilities within the game.

You will know them, eventually. But your System, Leon, is special. It is the Help System."

The words resonated in the blue void, seemingly etching themselves into Leon's very being.

"The Help System," the man explained, his voice filled with a playful warmth, "will present you with certain 'Quests'.

These quests will involve helping others, guiding them, unlocking their true potential. And when you complete these quests, you will earn 'Points'. These points, Leon, are where the true fun begins.

What you get from them… well, that is entirely about your luck. It could be anything. A boost to your own 'Current' rating.

A temporary enhancement for a teammate. Or perhaps even a rare glimpse into a hidden talent's true 'Potential'."

He smiled, a knowing glint in his ancient eyes.

"It will be a System that rewards your generous spirit, Leon. And it will guide you on your path, not just to becoming the best player in the world, but perhaps, the best influence in the world of football."

The man then raised his hand, a gesture of farewell. The blue void around them began to swirl, to intensify, becoming a vortex of light and color.

"Goodbye, Leon Fischer," the man's voice echoed, fading as the blue light consumed everything. "Continue your journey. The world of football awaits your touch. And your help."

Leon tried to speak, to ask more questions, to understand, but the words caught in his throat. The blue light intensified, overwhelming his senses.

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a dizzying sensation, like falling through an endless sky.

Then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the blue screen was gone.

Leon blinked, his eyes snapping open. He was standing exactly where he had been, on the slightly rundown pitch of the seventh academy.

The 25-year-old man with Potential: 92, Current: 69 was still juggling the ball, seemingly unaware of Leon's brief disappearance.

"Hey! Leon! How are you?" Byon's voice, now clear and immediate, cut through the fading echoes of the blue void. He and Alex were looking at him, a mixture of concern and confusion on their faces.

Leon tried to respond, but his mind was reeling. The man in the suit. The founder of football. The Help System. Quests.

Points. It all felt like a vivid, impossible dream. He tried to focus on Byon's face, on Alex's, on the pitch around them. But something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

He couldn't see.

Everything was blurry, indistinct, a swirling chaos of color and shadow.

The numbers, the 'Potential' and 'Current' ratings, the ghostly projections – all gone.

His 'sight' was completely, utterly gone. Panic, cold and raw, gripped him.

What had happened? What had the man done? He was blind to his unique ability, blind to the very essence of how he saw the game.

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A/N: Your feedback is awesome. Don't hesitate to share your thoughts