The training ground was quiet. It was early morning. The sun was just starting to peek over the London skyline, painting the grass in shades of gold and green.Alex Finch sat on a bench, tying his laces. But his mind wasn't on the upcoming match. It was drifting back.He closed his eyes.Life One.He saw it like a movie playing in fast forward.Danein Blake.Born in a small, grey town where the rain never seemed to stop. He wasn't a wonderkid. He was just a kid who loved the ball.He remembered the muddy Sunday league pitches. The smell of Deep Heat and oranges at halftime.He remembered the rejection letters. Too small. Too slow. Not enough technique.But Danein didn't stop. He was stubborn. He fought his way up. Not to the Premier League, but to the Championship. The grind.He remembered the bus rides. Long, cold journeys to places like Stoke and Barnsley. Eating cold sandwiches and dreaming of glory.He remembered his first goal. A scuffed shot that bobbled over the keeper's hands. It wasn't pretty, but it felt like magic.He remembered the injuries. The twisted ankles. The pulled hamstrings. The days spent in the gym, alone, trying to fix a body that was betraying him.He was a journeyman. A player who moved from club to club, always searching for a home, never quite finding it.And then, the end.Griffin Park. Brentford. A Tuesday night in November.It was raining. Of course it was raining.He was 32. His knees were shot. His contract was expiring.He got the ball. He saw a gap. For a second, he felt young again. He felt fast.He ran.And then... snap.The tackle. The pain. The mud filling his mouth.He died on a wet pitch in West London, surrounded by strangers, with nothing to show for his life but a few scrapbooks and a lot of regrets.Alex opened his eyes.He looked at his hands. They weren't Danein's hands anymore. They were Alex's."You did good, Danein," Alex whispered to the morning air. "You didn't give up.""Talking to ghosts again?"Alex jumped.Mark was standing there. He was wearing a sleeping mask on his forehead and carrying a pillow."Mark," Alex said. "Why are you here so early?""I am sleepwalking!" Mark announced. "I dreamt I was a gazelle running away from a lion. The lion was Steve. He wanted me to do push-ups."Alex laughed."And why do you have a pillow?""Tactical equipment," Mark said, sitting down. "Nap time is important for speed. I am charging my batteries."Mark looked at Alex closely."You look serious, Professor. Were you calculating the trajectory of a sad thought?""Something like that," Alex admitted. "Just remembering.""Remembering is boring," Mark said, fluffing his pillow. "The past is just a place where I was slower. The future is where the speed is."Alex smiled. Mark was right.Danein Blake was the past. Alex Finch was the present.And the future?The future was waiting to be written.Suddenly, a loud HONK echoed across the training ground.A small golf buggy came speeding around the corner.It was driven by Milo.Milo was wearing a full racing driver's suit, complete with a helmet. The buggy had a cardboard spoiler taped to the back and "TURBO" written on the side in marker pen."VROOM VROOM!" Milo screamed, swerving the buggy towards them. "PIT STOP! I AM THE MECHANIC! ALEX! MARK! I AM SELLING HIGH OCTANE FUEL! IT IS JUST ESPRESSO! BUT IT WILL MAKE YOU VIBRATE!""Milo, you cannot drive a golf buggy on the pitch," Alex said, standing up. "The groundsman will kill you.""I AM TOO FAST TO BE CAUGHT!" Milo yelled, doing a donut in the buggy. "I AM THE LEWIS HAMILTON OF GRASS!""Can I drive?" Mark asked, dropping his pillow. "I want to drift!""HOP IN, SPEED RACER!" Milo shouted.Mark jumped into the passenger seat."TO THE CANTEEN!" Mark commanded. "AND STEP ON IT!"The buggy sped off, leaving tire marks on the pristine grass.Alex shook his head.His life was ridiculous. He was a reincarnated footballer with a best friend who thought he was a racing car and another friend who sold fake moon rocks.But he wouldn't change it for anything.He stood up and stretched. His leg felt strong. The Phoenix Protocol had worked.Steve walked onto the pitch. He looked at the tire marks. He sighed."Milo?" Steve asked."Milo," Alex confirmed."And Mark?""And Mark."Steve rubbed his face. "One day, I will ban them. But not today. Today, we have work to do."He looked at Alex."Professor. You ready?""Ready, Boss.""Good. Because we have a new challenge. The Super Cup. Against the Europa League winners.""Who won the Europa League?" Alex asked."Bayer Leverkusen," Steve said. "Xabi Alonso again.""Xhaka," Alex smiled."Exactly. They want revenge for the Champions League. And this time, they have strengthened. They signed a new defender. A giant.""Who?""They call him 'The Mountain'. He is two meters tall. He eats strikers.""I have climbed mountains before," Alex said."This one moves," Steve warned. "And he is fast."Alex looked at the goalposts.Danein Blake would have been scared. Danein Blake would have worried about his knees.But Alex Finch?Alex Finch saw a puzzle."Let's get to work," Alex said.He grabbed a ball. He started to juggle.Left foot. Right foot. Knee. Head.The rhythm was there. The music of the game.Mark and Milo came driving back in the buggy. They were eating toast."HEY ALEX!" Mark yelled, crumbs flying everywhere. "WE FOUND THE TOASTER! IT WAS HIDING IN THE KITCHEN!""Mark, bring the buggy back," Steve shouted. "Or you are doing laps!""ABORT MISSION!" Milo screamed. He turned the buggy around and drove away, chased by a very angry groundsman.Alex laughed.The sun was shining. The grass was green.And the game was just beginning.End of Chapter.

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