"Ah, Mr. Finch," the professor said, not turning from the board. "Nice of you to join us. Were you calculating the trajectory of your next goal?"

"Traffic, sir," Alex lied. The truth was he had been watching videos of Napoli.

"Take a seat," Clarke said. "Quietly. We are discussing uncertainty."

Alex sat next to Maya. She was wearing a shirt that said Schrödinger's Cat is Alive (Maybe).

"You look tired," Maya whispered.

"Juventus," Alex whispered back. "They defend with their elbows."

"I saw the header," Maya said. "Force distribution was optimal. But your landing mechanics were poor. You could have twisted an ankle."

"I will work on my landings," Alex smiled.

After the lecture, Alex walked out into the London drizzle.

Mark was waiting.

He was not in a car. He was not on a scooter.

He was on... a skateboard.

A longboard, painted neon green.

He was wearing knee pads, elbow pads, and a helmet with a GoPro camera attached to it.

"SKATER BOY!" Mark screamed, pushing off. He wobbled dangerously.

"Mark," Alex said, watching him almost crash into a bin. "You have zero balance."

"I have speed!" Mark yelled. "Balance is for people who stand still! Get on, Professor! I will tow you!"

"I am walking," Alex said.

"Boring!" Mark shouted, skating away. He hit a small stone and fell off.

Alex sighed. He walked over and helped him up.

"Are you okay, Speed?"

"I am fine!" Mark said, dusting off his pads. "The ground attacked me. It was a foul."

The training ground was busy.

Steve, the manager, was in a good mood. They had beaten Juventus away. They were top of the group.

"Napoli," Steve said, pointing to the screen.

The Italian champions.

"They are fast," Steve said. "They have Osimhen. He is a sprinter. He is strong. He jumps like a basketball player."

He looked at Mark.

"Speed. This is a race. Osimhen thinks he is the fastest. You must show him he is second."

Mark's eyes lit up. "A race? I love races."

"And they have Kvaratskhelia," Steve said. "Kvara. The dribbler. He is magic. Like Antoine."

Antoine nodded. "I know him. He is good. But he has bad hair."

Steve looked at Alex.

"Professor. Napoli play chaos football. They run. They attack. They leave gaps."

"Gaps?" Alex asked.

"Yes. But they are dangerous gaps. If you miss a pass... they counter in three seconds. You must be precise. Like a surgeon."

"Surgery," Alex said. "I can do that."

Tuesday night. The Emirates.

It was a European night under the lights.

Alex stood in the tunnel.

Osimhen was standing next to him. He was wearing a protective face mask. He looked like a superhero. Or a villain.

"Nice mask," Alex said.

Osimhen looked down. "It is for protection. From defenders who cannot catch me."

"My friend is fast too," Alex said, pointing at Mark.

Osimhen looked at Mark. Mark was doing high knees. Fast. Very fast.

"We will see," Osimhen grunted.

The whistle blew.

Napoli played like fire. They were explosive.

In the 10th minute, Kvara got the ball. He nutmegged Ben White. He cut inside. He shot.

Ramsdale saved it.

"WAKE UP!" Bastian roared. "THEY ARE DANCING!"

Alex tried to control the midfield. But Napoli didn't want to control it. They wanted to bypass it.

They hit long balls to Osimhen.

Osimhen ran.

Mark ran with him.

It was a race.

Osimhen was fast. But Mark... Mark was the Arrow.

Mark got to the ball first. He kicked it out.

"I WON!" Mark yelled at Osimhen.

"It is a throw-in," Osimhen said, confused.

"BUT I WAS FASTER!" Mark insisted.

Alex laughed.

The first half was end-to-end. Basketball on grass.

In the 40th minute, Napoli scored.

Osimhen jumped. He jumped so high his head was above the crossbar.

He headed it in.

One zero. Napoli.

The Italian fans went wild.

Alex stood in the center circle. He looked at the Suit in the directors' box. The Suit was eating a sandwich. He looked unimpressed.

"We need control," Alex whispered to Jude. "This is too chaotic."

"Chaos is fun," Jude grinned. "But okay. Let's squeeze them."

Halftime. One zero.

Steve was calm.

"They are burning energy," Steve said. "They are sprinting everywhere. By the 70th minute, they will be dead."

He looked at Alex.

"Professor. Stop trying to race them. Slow it down. Make them chase the ball. Make them tired."

"Possession," Alex said.

"Yes. Boring possession. Side to side. Back and forth. Put them to sleep."

"And then?" Antoine asked.

"And then," Steve smiled. "We wake them up. With a slap."

Second half.

Arsenal changed.

Alex got the ball. He didn't pass forward. He passed to Bastian.

Bastian passed to Jude. Jude passed back to Alex.

Tick. Tock.

The crowd groaned. They wanted action.

But Alex ignored them. He was the metronome.

Napoli chased. Osimhen ran at Bastian. Bastian passed.

Kvara ran at Jude. Jude passed.

They ran. And ran. And ran.

By the 60th minute, the Napoli players were hands on knees. They were gasping.

"They are tired," Alex whispered to Antoine.

"Good," Antoine said. "Now... magic."

65th minute.

Alex got the ball. The Napoli midfield was slow to press.

Alex saw the gap.

He didn't pass. He drove.

He ran through the middle.

A defender stepped up.

Alex did a "Roulette". The Zidane turn.

He spun over the ball.

The defender tackled air.

Alex was through.

He saw Mark making a run.

But he also saw Antoine.

Antoine was standing still. In the "half-space".

Alex passed to Antoine.

Antoine controlled it. He looked at the goal.

He curled it.

Top corner.

GOAL!

One one.

Antoine bowed. "The sleeping spell is broken!"

Napoli were tired. Arsenal were awake.

75th minute.

Alex won the ball. He looked up.

Mark was running.

Osimhen was tracking back, but he was exhausted.

Alex hit the Hurricane pass.

Mark ran onto it.

He was one on one.

He didn't shoot.

He stopped.

He waited for the defender to slide past.

Then he chipped the keeper.

GOAL!

Two one. Arsenal.

Mark ran to the corner. He pretended to sleep. Then he jumped up screaming.

"WAKE UP CALL!"

The final whistle blew.

Arsenal 2. Napoli 1.

They had controlled the chaos.

Alex walked off the pitch.

Osimhen shook his hand. "Your friend is fast," Osimhen admitted.

"He is the Arrow," Alex smiled.

Milo was waiting. He was wearing a suit made of... pizza boxes?

"THE PIZZA PARTY!" Milo yelled. "WE DELIVERED! ALEX! THE ROULETTE! I AM SELLING SPINNERS! 'THE FINCH SPIN'!"

"Milo, you look like a cardboard box," Alex said.

"RECYCLING IS CHIC!" Milo shouted.

Alex walked into the locker room.

He checked his phone.

A text from Maya.

"Angular momentum conserved perfectly on the spin. 9.8 out of 10. Also, don't forget we have a group project on Friday. Don't be late."

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