"Mark?" Alex asked. "Did you sleep here?"

Mark looked up. His eyes were red. He looked like he had been wrestling a bear.

"I couldn't sleep," Mark whispered. "I had a dream. A nightmare."

"What was it?" Alex asked, sitting down next to him.

"I was running," Mark said, his voice trembling. "I was running so fast. Faster than light. But... the goal... it kept moving away. And then... Kyle Walker turned into a giant cheetah."

Alex tried not to laugh. "That sounds... stressful."

"It was!" Mark yelled. "And then... then... I looked down. And I wasn't wearing my silver boots. I was wearing... clogs. Wooden clogs!"

"It was just a dream, Speed," Alex said, patting his shoulder.

"Was it?" Mark asked, staring at his feet. "Or was it a warning? From the universe?"

The door opened. Bastian walked in. He saw Mark in pyjamas.

"No," Bastian said. He turned around and walked back out.

Harry, the captain, walked in a moment later. He saw Mark.

"Nice pyjamas, Speed," Harry grinned. "New sponsor?"

"It is comfort wear!" Mark snapped. "I am fragile today!"

Steve, the manager, walked in. He looked energized.

"Right!" Steve boomed. "Everyone awake? Mark, go put on clothes. You look like a giant baby."

Mark grumbled and went to change.

"We have a midweek game," Steve said. "Champions League. Matchday Four. Away."

He clicked the remote. The screen showed a stadium Alex knew well.

The Allianz Arena. Munich.

"Bayern Munich," Steve said.

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Bayern were giants. They were efficient. They were powerful. They were the team Bastian used to play for.

Bastian walked back in (he had decided to face the pyjamas). He looked at the screen.

"Home," Bastian said. His voice was soft.

"Yes," Steve said. "We go to your house, Bastian. And we have to rob it."

He looked at the team.

"They are angry. They lost to City in the semi-final last year. They want revenge on English teams. They have Harry Kane... wait, no, we have Harry Kane."

Harry laughed. "Confusing times, boss."

"They have Musiala," Steve said. "The other Golden Boy nominee. The one who thinks he should have won."

Alex felt a prickle on his neck. Musiala. The German wonderkid. The dribbler.

"He is good," Alex said.

"He is very good," Steve agreed. "He is like Antoine... but younger. And German. Which means he is efficient magic."

He looked at Alex.

"Professor. This is your duel. You vs Musiala. The Brain vs The Dancer. If you stop him... we win. If he dances past you... we die."

"No pressure," Alex muttered.

The flight to Munich was tense.

Bastian was the tour guide.

"That is the stadium," Bastian said, pointing out the window as they landed. It glowed red in the dark. "It looks like a tyre. A giant, angry tyre."

"It is beautiful," Antoine said.

"It is loud," Bastian corrected.

They arrived at the hotel. Alex was rooming with Jude this time.

Jude was doing pushups. One handed pushups.

"Jude," Alex said from his bed. "Why?"

"Power," Jude grunted. "Must maintain power."

"We played two days ago," Alex said. "You need rest."

"Rest is for the weak," Jude said, switching arms. "And for Mark. Is he still in his pyjamas?"

"I think he is wearing them under his suit," Alex laughed.

Wednesday night. The Allianz Arena.

The stadium was a sea of red. The noise was different. It wasn't a roar. It was a drumbeat. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Alex stood in the tunnel. He looked at the Bayern players.

They were huge. Kimmich. Goretzka. De Ligt.

And Musiala.

Jamal Musiala was standing at the front. He looked young. He looked slight. But his eyes were sharp.

He saw Alex.

He walked over.

"The Golden Boy," Musiala said. His English was perfect. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," Alex said.

"They say you are the Professor," Musiala smiled. "I liked school. But I preferred recess. Playing tag."

"I was good at tag," Alex lied.

"We will see," Musiala said. "Tonight... you are 'it'."

He winked and walked away.

Alex looked at Jude.

"He thinks I am 'it'," Alex said.

"Then catch him," Jude said, cracking his knuckles. "Or... I will catch him. And I will sit on him."

The game started.

Bayern were a machine. But a fast machine.

Musiala was incredible.

He didn't run. He glided. He moved like water.

In the 10th minute, he got the ball.

Alex stepped up to tackle him.

Musiala didn't do a trick. He just... shifted his weight.

Alex moved left. Musiala went right.

It was so simple. And so effective.

Musiala was past him.

He drove at the defense. He passed to Sané.

Sané shot.

Ramsdale saved it.

"Close him down!" Ramsdale yelled.

Alex was frustrated. Musiala was slippery. He was like trying to catch a bar of soap in the shower.

"He is reading my balance," Alex realized. "He waits for me to plant my foot... then he moves."

Data point acquired.

Alex changed his approach.

The next time Musiala got the ball, Alex didn't plant his feet. He kept moving. He shuffled. He stayed on his toes.

Musiala tried to shift. Alex shifted with him.

Musiala tried to go left. Alex was there.

Musiala stopped. He looked surprised.

He passed it back.

"Good!" Steve yelled from the sideline. "Stay dancing!"

It was a dance battle. The Professor vs The Dancer.

For thirty minutes, it was a stalemate. Zero zero.

But Bayern were dangerous. They were pushing.

In the 40th minute, Bayern won a corner.

Kimmich took it.

The ball flew in.

Bastian jumped. He was playing against his old team. He wanted to win.

He headed it clear.

The ball fell to Jude.

Jude didn't hesitate.

"GO!" he roared.

The counter attack.

Jude ran. He was the Power. He shrugged off Goretzka.

He saw Mark.

Mark was the Arrow. He was sprinting down the wing.

Jude hit a long pass.

Mark caught it. He was one on one with Alphonso Davies. The fastest defender in the world.

It was a race. The Arrow vs The Roadrunner.

Mark pushed the ball. He sprinted.

Davies sprinted.

They were neck and neck.

Mark looked at Davies. He grinned.

"Bye bye!" Mark yelled.

He found an extra gear. The "Hurricane Gear".

He pulled away. Just an inch.

He crossed.

Alex was there. The late run.

He arrived at the edge of the box.

He didn't shoot.

He saw Antoine.

Antoine was on the penalty spot.

Alex dummy-ed. He let the ball run through his legs.

The Bayern defender slid past him.

Antoine was alone.

He didn't smash it. He just caressed it into the corner.

GOAL!

One zero. Arsenal.

The Bayern fans were silent. The Arsenal corner went wild.

Antoine bowed to the crowd. The Magician.

Second half.

Bayern came out angry.

Musiala stopped smiling. He started running.

He dribbled past Jude. He dribbled past Bastian.

He was in the box.

Alex was the last line of defense.

Musiala ran at him. He did a stepover. Then another.

Alex watched the ball. Not the feet.

Musiala went left.

Alex stuck his foot out.

He touched the ball. Just a toe.

It was enough.

The ball rolled away. Musiala tripped over Alex's leg.

"Penalty!" the Bayern fans screamed.

The referee waved it away. "Ball!"

Alex lay on the ground. He had made the tackle. The perfect, precise, Professor tackle.

Musiala got up. He looked at Alex. He shook his head.

"Good tackle," Musiala whispered.

"Good dribble," Alex panted.

The game went on. It was intense.

Eighty-fifth minute.

Arsenal were tired. Bayern were pushing for the equalizer.

Alex had the ball deep in his own half.

He was surrounded. Three Bayern players.

"Kick it out!" Bastian yelled.

Alex looked up.

He saw a pass. A crazy pass.

Jude had made a run. Not forward. But across the pitch.

Alex hit a swerving, outside-of-the-boot pass.

It curved around the pressing Bayern players.

It found Jude.

Jude turned. He drove.

He saw Mark.

Mark was making a run.

Jude passed.

Mark was through.

But Davies was back. He was fast.

Mark knew he couldn't beat him again. He was tired.

Mark stopped. He cut inside.

He saw Alex.

Alex had run the length of the pitch again. The Engine.

Mark passed back.

Alex was twenty-five yards out.

He didn't think. He just hit it.

He hit it with the "Golden Boy" boots.

The ball flew. It dipped.

It went over the keeper.

It hit the crossbar. CLANG.

It bounced down.

And... out.

Alex put his hands on his head. So close.

But the rebound...

It fell to Harry Kane.

The ex-Tottenham striker. In Munich.

The crowd booed him.

Harry didn't care.

He headed it into the empty net.

GOAL!

Two zero.

Game over.

Harry ran to the corner. He kissed the Arsenal badge. (The fans loved that).

Alex ran over. He hugged Harry.

"The rebound!" Alex laughed. "I meant to hit the bar!"

"Of course you did, Professor," Harry grinned. "Strategic geometry."

The final whistle blew.

Arsenal 2. Bayern Munich 0.

A masterclass.

Alex walked off the pitch. He swapped shirts with Musiala.

"Next time," Musiala said, "I win the tag."

"Next time," Alex smiled.

Bastian was waiting. He was holding a Bayern scarf a fan had thrown him.

He looked at the stadium. He looked at Alex.

"You beat my home," Bastian said. "With my new family."

He put a massive arm around Alex.

"I am proud, small rock."

Alex felt warm inside.

They walked into the tunnel.

Milo was there. He was wearing... lederhosen. Gold lederhosen.

"JA! JA! JA!" Milo screamed. "WE CONQUERED GERMANY! I AM SELLING THE LEDERHOSEN! 'THE BAVARIAN BRAIN' COLLECTION!"

Alex just shook his head.

"Get in the bus, Milo," Alex said.

"Jawohl, Herr Professor!" Milo saluted.

Alex walked to the bus.

He was tired. He was sore.

But he was happy.

He looked at his phone. A text from Mrs. Gable.

"I saw the game. Your angles were excellent. But don't forget... Pythagoras test on Friday."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.