A living-world football RPG · in development
You're not the manager. You're the player.
One footballer. One career. Every choice off the pitch decides what happens on it.
A football career is
20%
on the pitch
and
80%
in the locker room, the press, and the agent's office.
Take Júlio Sandoval — a left winger at Atlético Verena, two seasons in and scrapping for his place. You live his eighty: not formations and transfer budgets, but the handshakes, the grudges, the quiet word that gets you back in the side. Every screen ahead is one week of his career.
It begins with a notification.
Fifteen seconds. A message arrives. You read the room, you choose, you live with it. No grinding, no menus to wade through, just the next moment in your career.
Training ground · before the session
Vargas catches you by the boot room. "Gaffer's asking why you went down so easy on Saturday," he says, not quite looking at you. "What do I tell him?"
- "Tell him I'll answer it on Tuesday."
- "Tell him to come ask me himself."
- Say nothing. Let him wonder.
The choices telegraph their tone, never their outcome. The second-order consequences (who heard you, who'll remember) surface later, the way they would in a real dressing room.
You - Form
- Sharp
- Dressing room
- Respected
- The manager
- On thin ice
- The press
- A rising name
Two seasons since the move inland. A run of starts, then a cold spell nobody quite explained. Lately the crowd has started singing his name again.
No ratings. No sliders. You read your own career the way the room does.
There are no stats to min-max.
You will never see an attribute table, a rating out of a hundred, or a slider to drag. Your form, your standing, your decline: you read them the way a player does, in how the manager talks to you, in who passes to you, in what the press writes.
It's a career you feel, not a build you optimise.
You can't watch the match.
You live with what it does to you.
Set your intentions, scout your marker, queue the moments you'll go for, then let it play. The result arrives as a story you read, your own moments picked out of the team's.
And every match is a seed: the manager's reaction, a teammate's resentment, a line in the morning paper. Tomorrow's drama is written by today's ninety minutes.
- 52' A scrappy restart. You're seeing little of the ball.
- 61' The press resumes. Cumbria look the fresher side.
- 67' You cut inside onto your right and curl one at the far corner. Their keeper claws it over. The bench is up.
- 74' A let-off: their winger rattles your far post.
- 78' Your corner. Vargas waves you off and takes it himself — and buries it. He wheels away. He doesn't look for you.
- 90+5' Full time. The room will be loud tonight. You're not sure how much of it is for you.
The world doesn't wait for you.
A full pyramid of clubs, leagues and rivalries runs on its own clock: boards hire and fire, veterans fade, careers end. You're one player stepping into a story already in motion. Log off and it keeps turning. Come back to a world that moved.
Join the wishlist.
We'll only message you when it matters: a first playable, a beta, the day the world opens. No noise. Just the whistle.
You don't pick the formation.
You pick who has your back.
Every teammate, coach, journalist and board member keeps their own private read on you. It's never a number you can grind; it's a standing you earn, lose, and fight to recover.
Your standing
How they read you, today